FRANKFORT, KY – A fox in the southern part of town cannot for the life of it remember if the chicken that sits in front of him was killed last Thursday or last Saturday.

If I got it on Saturday, then it is bound to still be okay to eat, but if it was from Thursday, well that’s a bit risky.

Was Thursday the night I raided the farm, or was that the night I chased two toads down to the river? What did I do Friday night? Sunday I know I went over to the honey badgers for dinner…

It still smells alright, as far as dead fowl go. But then again, it is a dead chicken. Looks the same as it did last week, too. Hm.

It has been pretty cold at night, that probably preserved it. Although, it did get pretty hot on Sunday afternoon. I should have buried it. Then again, I did just have a bath on Friday- Oh, that’s what I did on Friday! Okay, so that means that I killed this chicken….nope, I still don’t know.

I bet it will be okay to eat. I can just have a little taste and if it’s bad, I’m sure I will be able to tell.

Or maybe I should just throw it out and go get something else. Am I just being lazy?

I hate wasting food, though. Why do I do this? What is wrong with me that I can’t finish what I start?

Now I sound like my mother.

What the–What was that noise?

Hello?

A meadow vole! That’s what I want to eat today. Get back here, vole!

But if the chicken still smells good tomorrow, I’m definitely eating it.