Negotiations

So there we stood in the parking lot--twelve people if you included Julie, me, and the radio staff--and a frightened, hyperventilating turkey locked in a crate.

"I'd like to take this bird to Catskill Animal Sanctuary," I said to Jason, the station manager, who had apparently been called outside because two strange women were much more interested in the LIVE turkey than they were in the "turkey bowl" competition.

"He’s not ours," Jason explained. "He's the property of Quattro’s Poultry Farm. And what's Catskill Animal Sanctuary?"

I explained that Catskill Animal Sanctuary was a haven for abused farm animals, and that this was clearly an abusive situation. "And the turkey is a she, by the way."

"Look," he said, his eyes dropping. "I just wanted people to have fun. It’s a holiday. It’s supposed to be festive."

I softened a little. "Does it look like they're having fun? You've got only seven people here, and three of them look like unless they WIN the competition, they won't be having Thanksgiving dinner." I motioned to a chain-smoking mother and her two gaunt young daughters, all noticeably underdressed on this frigid day.

Jason hesitated but a second before giving me Quattro's phone number. "What they want to do with the turkey is their business."

"Thanks," I smiled. "You know, you might rethink this event for next year. You're welcome to come celebrate at Catskill Animal Sanctuary--people WILL have fun...and so will the animals."

"Sounds good," he said.

A thought occurred to me. "Wait one more second," I offered. "I have something for you."

A moment later, I returned from the car with a copy of my first book. "Here," I said, placing the signed copy in his hand. "This may help you understand why you really need to stop holding this event." I touched his arm and walked away.