The Native Americans. You know, when they sat down at a long, festive table with the Puritans, complete with beautifully crafted centerpieces and no mindless slaughter at all.
I wonder how many things we celebrate nowadays that we link to the past as incorrectly as Thanksgiving? It's kinda like if we celebrated Christmas because back in the middle ages, someone had crucified a jolly old man in a red suit and then gave his organs away to the crowd.
I love turkey. I eat it all the time, in ground up form. That doesn't keep me from enjoying a turkey dinner, though. That's something special. And I never gorge myself as close to involuntary purge as I do at the Thanksgiving table.
One of my favorite things is stuffing, or dressing as it's called where I'm from. The last few years, I've taken to making crazy stuffings, with all kinds of dark breads and tasty sausages. It's been fun. Plus, my friend brines the turkey that she makes. If you've never brined a turkey, you're fuckin' up.
You know who else likes turkey? Chickens. They get a day off from being murdered and gravied, and that's gotta be nice.
By the way, in case you didn't know, that whole thing about turkey making you sleepy is bullshit. It has an amino acid called tryptophan in it, that does make you a little sleepy, but there isn't any more in turkey than there is in chicken. It's found in all sorts of food, like milk and chocolate and other meats. The reason you get tired after turkey dinner is more because of the carbohydrates or the simple fact that you ate way too much, fatty.
Short Answer: The first story I remember writing was a tale of a turkey on Thanksgiving day. He was madly flipping through a calendar, to check the date, when the farmer came in with a gun and shot him. I was very, very young when I wrote that.