As the turkey was removed from its protective plastic wrapping this Thanksgiving I reflected on just what kind of life this particular fowl may have had.

Clearly he, or she, had not benefited from a Presidential pardon and could not look forward to a long and well-fed existence, free of anxiety, at Disney World, living out its natural life in pampered bliss.

Turkeys are not the smartest creatures although they are certainly not as stupid as their distantly related ostrich cousins. The ostrich actually has a brain that is smaller in size than one of its eyes.

It must be difficult for a single turkey to rise above its peers and accomplish very much in a short life span, determined for the most partby achieving a desirable body mass and tenderness index. The lucky ones get to strut around with thousands of close relatives, pecking at seeds and supplemental food pellets, and gobbling raucously without concern for natural predators, drought induced food shortages or lack of water.

For the most part they don't even have to worry about laying or sitting on eggs.

Turkeys are fortunate because their meat, as we know, contains tryptophan. Tryptophan is an essential amino-acid (think - building blocks here), a key ingredient in the production of serotonin. Serotonin promotes feelings of calm, relaxation and sleepiness.

An insufficient amount of serotonin in humans (aka turkey eaters) is associated with depression. In other, non-human, animals increased serotonin has been shown to "reduce hostility, increase social affiliativeness" (whatever that means).

That might explain why our Thanksgiving bird is not aggressive and mixes well socially with its thousands of feathered friends and relatives in farmyards and hatcheries.

As the appointed time for removal of its head approached, did our bird have any inkling of what was to come? Did the mood of the whole barnyard change? Was there a feeling of mass hysteria?

We will never know for sure. We might speculate however, that the naturally high tryptophan content aided in the production of serotonin which, in turn, helped calm and relax our turkey before its head was separated from its plump, tender, body. Evolution and adaptation of animal species is a fascinating subject.

We do not appreciate turkeys enough. We are derogatory towards them at times, deriving commonly used metaphors from their worst characteristics. Remember the motivational verse, "How can one soar with eagles when one works with turkeys?"

We call someone who is stupid, foolish or inept "You Turkey!" which means bird brain. On the other hand we sometimes "talk turkey," and that means we expect our discussions to be straight forward and to the point.

Three consecutive strikes in bowling is called a "turkey," and that is somewhat complimentary. Perhaps we are becoming more sensitive and inclusive of other animals in our society after all.

Turkey meat is so closely associated with home-cooked meals at Thanksgiving and Christmas it tends to yield plenty of leftovers, so the family has to eat "cold turkey" after the festivities. Cold turkey has become a metaphor for sudden and total abstinence.

So, our intrepid turkey spent 4 hours in an oven at 325 degrees F. and emerged steaming and tender and smelling wonderful (see photo No. 2). Mixed with mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, stuffing, and cranberry sauce, it was dissected, dished up, and digested.

The tryptophans kicked in while apple and pumpkin pies were being consumed. A feeling of calm, relaxation, and sleepiness came over us.

After about a week of turkey sandwiches and leftover homemade turkey soup we will slowly wean ourselves from our dependence on tryptophan. Doing so "cold turkey" would not be acceptable.