Turkey Was Like

Turkey was like,
Why you slaughter me?
I had no answer, really.
Taste good,
I said,
trying to brush the question off my shoulder
like animal dander
(that's what you get for playing "fireman rescue" with a big dog).
After dinner, let's just say
the dander was gone,
but the question remained.

Later that night I looked at pictures of turkeys on the internet.
Of the thousands of pictures I saw
over a period of six hours,
only one of those pictures depicted
a turkey being ripped in half by a centaur
as part of an ancient, Thanksgiving-like ceremony.

"Could've been worse, StaceyAnne,"
I whispered, shaking my head slowly in indignant yet resigned disbelief,
"Could've been a whole lot worse."
And just then,
My stomach churned.
Instantly I knew the message she was sending:
I know 
And I am THANKFUL.