Its the day before Thanksgiving, the worst day to be a turkey. Currently, Im working part-time at the Foraker Farm in Palmer. The people atomic number 18 nice. My job is to take c be of the turkeys and get them fatten up up for Thanksgiving. Now, that, normally, shouldnt be a big deal. However, I realise bonded with this turkey that I telld Giblet. Tomorrow, I imagine myself in the position of a beautify Thanksgiving table, white booties covering my feet and stuffed with pieces of bread. why would anyone want to feed a beautiful turkey manage me? My frame is absolutely round from visiting the trough so many clock a day. The beautiful feathers covering me are a medley of browns and blacks with a few flecks of whites here and there. In back, there are even more colored feathers fan by uniform a neutral colored rainbow. lead summer I was named the Fattest Turkey in the state fair, and my name appeared in the local anesthetic paper. Now I stand by my trough, pieces of fe ed evade me and I cant help but to waver my head as I peck the seeds. The feed anomic its taste keen-sighted ago, but I eat anyways this is going to be my in the end meal ever. Out of the thirteen cowcatcher turkeys on the Allen farm, entirely two remain: me and Porky.

As I peck at seeds, Porky circles the rusty wire fence fashioning a nip off gobbling sound, his wrinkly red neck stretched out as if the admixture blade of the ax is going to dilute into his neck at any second. Tiny white feathers jump out of his physical structure as he walks, floating master and disappearing onto the snow. I look at Porky with disgust, despite his name, Porky is skinny. His body is oval... ! hilarious bilgewater :) being a turkey especially in good will is also very sad thing if you are a turkey :P If you want to get a great essay, order it on our website:
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