Panzo has once again come crawling to me, The Plastic Action Poodle, begging me to fill in for him (at holiday rate) while he's traveling over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's Haus of Liquor Und Schnitzel.

I don't know what the draw is for liquor and schnitzel (together, that is) but it's no less frigging weird than this whole turkey thing.

Anyway, in addition to being a much-sought-after celebrity playdog, I'm also a world-famous celebrity scholar. While researching this human oddity known as Thanksgiving, I have found some interesting kibbles of lost knowledge. I'll bill your species later.

For instance, did you know that Founding Father, brewer, patriot and womanizer Benjamin Franklin originally wanted the turkey to be America's national exploited animal symbol?

It's true! Conflicts with the Pilgrim's Pride Media Writer's Union (headquartered then in West Cherry Hill, New Jersey) which had already installed the turkey as the National Peace With Injuns Meal Food in short stories, plays, and one traveling circus, forced Franklin to choose another bird.

For what it's worth, fellow patriot John Jay (known also as Girlee Jay) wanted the swallow.

Another thing: everyone knows that the amino acid Tryptophan in turkey is credited with inducing after-meal sleepiness at Thanksgiving. What is little-known however is that turkey flesh also contains large amounts of the amino acid Naggine. This essential amino acid works in the human brain as a signal mediator. It actually blocks reception of the body's signals to stay awake. The effect is much stronger in males than in females, possibly due to an undocumented interaction with testosterone. In other words (get ready for it), the more naggine a man gets, the less he pays attention.

The traditional Green Bean Casserole often found on the American Thanksgiving table (usually next to that brown and red stuff that Aunt Imogene brings every year) didn't start out as a recipe for an edible casserole at all.

The casserole, Thanksgiving's equivalent to the Christmas fruitcake, can be traced to the test kitchen at the Durkee company in 1948.

It seems that during the summer of 1948, someone in the chemical laboratory at Durkee was stealing other chemist's lunches. Chief Food Chemist Ed Polemus decided to try to catch the Durkee Lunch Thief by creating a dish that would look good but cause retching and convulsions.

Funeral services for Chemist Intern Ansel Toddy were held on October 14, 1948.

Durkee later fired Ed Polemus (who went on to invent the Chicken McNugget) and reworked the original casserole recipe, releasing it to the public as a compliment to its canned french fried onions.

GBC trivia: untouched green bean casseroles have been found in the rubble of demolished tenements in nearly every major city.

The last kibble of lost Thanksgiving knowledge that I'm going to write about today (mostly because I'm tired of being smarter than you and keyboarding without thumbs) concerns the mythical Horn of Plenty or, Cornucopia.

Copia was an ancient Greek city (kind of like Poughkeepsie, NY) also known as Thurii.

Several decades of evil rule in the city resulted in a popular revolution led by Percival the Shorter. After the successful overthrow of the corrupt government, Percival was installed as ruler over Copia and for twenty years he ruled with fairness and compassion.

So popular was Percival that people far and wide simply referred to him by the city's name: Copia. In effect, he became Copia.

Along about the twenty-fifth year of rule, conditions in the city state suddenly turned sour. Injustice was rampant and the ruler's decrees became petty and arbitrary. The reason for the sudden change in Copia's rule was attributed to a foot problem that made him grouchy.

One day, while hobbling through the palace courtyard, Copia was confronted by a rampaging flock of goats. Not able to get out of the way of their teeming onslaught in time as they barreled through the courtyard, Copia was trampled.

His foot, the one with the problem, was badly broken. The entire flock of goats was ordered killed and their horns were hung in the palace's great hall.

Miraculously though, as Copia's badly broken foot healed, he discovered that the cause of his earlier discomfort, a large corn, had been sheared off by the goat's sharp toenails.

Free of pain for the first time in years, Copia declared several days of feasting and general merrymaking. So lavish and bountiful were the tables of Copia that the legend of them soon spread around the world.

And that's why bounty in America at Thanksgiving is symbolized by the goat horn called the Corn of Copia.

Happy Turkey Day to all of my human friends. And next year, eat cat.