An Incident Has Come and Gone

It was a dark cold night; the night before Thanksgiving Eve, and I was driving quickly down the winding road. I still had a few errands to run before we left for Cape Cod the next day, so my mind was going through lists of things still left unaccomplished.

As I rounded a sharp corner, I slammed on my brakes. There before me in the stark light from my headlights were six turkeys, running across the road. They looked rather harried and in a great hurry, and stopped only briefly before continuing on across the blacktop.

The leader was a big turkey. Heavy and well-set, with a large neck and beak. His head turned around as my headlights hit him and his eyes looked wild and determined. He quickly ushered his fellow turkeys off the road as I sat, watching, visibly shaken, at what could have only been a dangerous break-out.

Yes, that was it, I realized, as I pondered the fleeing turkeys. There was a turkey farm just up the road and I knew that these few desperate creatures had made a break for it. It was a last ditch effort to live.

My son was in the back seat and we sat in silence for a minute, as we reverenced the escape of these few birds. Unfortunately their peers didn't make it. Thousands of them went under the knife the very next day.

It was tragic, but then I realized that I too was one of those who didn't care. I was one of the masses that bought my turkey, cooked it up and without a twinge of guilt, savored the flavor and the juices of the succulent meat.

Did I report those turkeys? Did I call the authorities and have them taken back to their prison to be slaughtered the next day?


No, I didn't.


I felt that I should give them their freedom....


....And as I soaked up my gravy on Thanksgiving Day, and delighted in the flavor of this magnificent bird....I could feel proud that I had saved just a few.