"Something was happening, but they didn't know what. I think they missed their friends."

Out of consideration for the remaining birds, the Bakers lead each day's victims far away from the turkey pen. "We don't like to do it within sight or sound of the other group," Baker says.

Whatever mental capacities they may have lacked, Baker's turkeys proved particularly endearing this summer.

"If you sing to them, they'll sing to you," she says, telling of a group of harmonizing women who walked along the farm road and were shocked to hear the turkeys join them in song.

"They have this cute little noise they make, kind of like a trill," Baker says. "Of course, the big ones, the toms, do gobble."

What with the free concerts, Baker understandably admits to a certain sadness when Thanksgiving rolls around. Still, her affection has limits. The turkeys, after all, are a significant source of income--and she likes them with gravy too.

"When you're in the farming business, you have to determine which are your pets and which are your income," Baker says.

"You don't think of them as individuals, and you think how great they're going to taste on your Thanksgiving table."

From Owen's attitude, one senses that turkeys are not at the top of his list of desirable pets.

Unlike Baker, Owen has not found many redeeming qualities in the turkeys he sells. "They don't have much activity," he says. "They just kind of stand around and eat and drink and sleep."

Owen says he doubts that the turkeys can notice a difference as the holiday slaughter begins and the population plummets.

In addition to raising turkeys, Owen also breeds the birds himself--using artificial insemination since the unnaturally large chested birds cannot follow the course of nature themselves.

According to the breeding procedures, the 400 birds with the largest breast and the shortest legs can hope to survive the holiday season as producers of the next generation.

Still, surviving Thanksgiving does not guarantee a safe future or a handsome batch of offspring. For more than 1,000 turkeys, the true day of reckoning rolls around as Christmas approaches.

"They're raised for particular holidays," Owen says. "When a turkey hits maturity at approximately 20 weeks old, that's when they're killed."