A Turkey-Day Struggle

Written by Nicholas LeVack, Published on 8/24/2009

Two dogs walked side by side. One gave a hollow yip and the other barked in response.

When the first dog wagged its tail, the second dog bit at it. The second dog was startled by the presence of the first, which was a robotic toy, and had been brought by one of the relatives as the Olem family piled into Aunt Rachel’s house for Thanksgiving. Cousin Chris had brought along the robotic dog for his amusement, but Jack—the actual dog— was not at all pleased by its intrusion. It was much like a dog in the way it acted, and was small, but almost the same size as little Jack. The toy was little better than something sold at Wal-Mart, but still surprisingly detailed. Even its paws looked incredibly realistic.

Chris was watching his aunt, Rachel Olem, while she worked furiously in the kitchen preparing a meal for the family. Like every year, they’d all come to temporarily board in her home as she waited on them hand and foot. She seemed as annoyed to have all the visitors as Chris was annoyed to be there; he was not one for holiday trips to see family, and he figured the sooner they got it over with the better. All of this was well known amongst the family, and yet they made no effort to help Rachel, nor did they seek to entertain Chris.

Everything seemed to be going routinely (other than the robotic dog), until a shriek came from the basement. Jack, his tail between his legs, was the first react, darting underneath the table while his robotic counterpart found itself walking steadily into a wall. The family—most of whom had been playing football outside—quickly went downstairs, abandoning their usual activities. There they found Aunt Diane, Rachel Olem’s sister-in-law, standing over the table that had once been the bearer of a soon-to-be-cooked turkey. She was furious. “The turkey is gone!” she screamed, spit flying from her mouth.

Rachel looked relieved, and some of the family members noticed. But the rest of the family was in an uproar. Accusations began to fly. Before things could get too out of hand, Rachel’s father stepped forward, silencing everyone with a raised hand. He knew that most everyone in the family had just come in from outdoors, and correctly assumed that the turkey culprit would have to have been someone indoors. Diane, Aunt Rachel, the dog Jack and Chris were the main suspects. He quickly dismissed everyone else, and turned to the remaining group.

He first turned to Rachel, but not without noticing a set of muddy dog prints leading from the basement steps to the table, and even to the chair that had been right in front of the spot the turkey once sat. Noticing Jack was not present, he spoke to Rachel. “Rachel, isn’t it true that you are always stressed, and even reluctant, to have these family get-togethers?”

Rachel did not deny it. “Yes, I’ve already been cooking for hours on end today—I’ve put a lot of work into this meal.”

Chris, who had been staring off into space, was the next to wither under his grandfather’s accusing eye. “ Chris, isn’t it true, in your case, that you also do not like these get-togethers, because you find them boring and unappealing?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Chris said apathetically.

If dogs could talk, the grandfather thought, Jack would be the next one to accuse. He shrugged at the thought and turned on his daughter-in-law, the wife of his eldest son and Chris’s mother. But before he could speak, his daughter Rachel was seething over being accused by her own father. “You can’t honestly believe it was me, can you? I work hard every year to please you ingrates, and this is what I get? If anyone, it was my darling sister-in-law! She’s always hated me since my brother introduced me to her! She just wants to make me look bad!”

“Nice going, Mom,” said Chris, who still seemed like he wouldn’t care if the house blew down at the moment.

“Now my own son is turning against me?” Diane gasped.

“I don’t actually think it’s you, Mom. I just figure you two fighting could mean we’ll get to leave earlier.”

Chris’s comment sparked the elderly man’s interest.

“Always so selfish, Chris,” Diane said. “Even now you can’t cut me a break, despite the fact that this nonsense woke me up from a nap after driving us here for hours!”

Grandfather raised a hand to yet again silence them all. He turned on Diane. “Diane, is it true that you hold ill feelings toward your sister-in-law?”

Diane looked reluctant to confirm this notion, but after a moment her shoulders sagged, and her head bobbed up and down.

Crash. Small footsteps could be heard padding down the steps, followed by a thunk as something much heavier and harder fell in its wake. When they looked to the staircase, they saw Jack running from the meandering bionic dog, which had taken a tumble down the steps. Jack managed to get off the last landing before Chris’s substitute dog landed on it, and so Jack quickly darted behind Grandfather’s legs.

“Well that gives me an idea,” he said as the robotic dog left footprints in its wake.

The three family members had begun fighting again, while Jack had recommenced yipping at the bionic intrusion. Grandfather did not subtly call for silence; this time he barked—in a volume much louder than Jack could ever muster—for them to shut up. When they had quieted down, Grandfather spoke. “ I believe I know who has stolen the turkey.”