Hektor

I've marked him for death and named him Hektor - next Thanksgiving's turkey.

It seems wrong, like marking the albatross that I will have to wear around my neck - a premeditated version of the the Ancient Mariner's great evil.

I am certain that I will not be able to look at him the same again. A great sadness has passed between us.

But I must admit the prospect of wild turkey for Thanksgiving is attractive and my mouth begins to water now when I see him.