Nowhere near the weirdest thing we’ve looked for

Weird things happen in my house. I have to say all kinds of things I never thought I’d have to say.

For example, today I have to tell you that we lost a chicken carcass. In the house.

You’d think that wouldn’t happen. It’s not like we have a ginormous house or anything. Nevertheless, we can’t find the chicken.

Said poultry was never alive here. It’s not like we had a pet chicken (I’m never going to get a pet chicken. My Honey never lets me have anything good) who died and now we can’t find the body, or something. That would be really weird.

No. Our issue is a whole lit simpler. My Honey roasted a chicken for dinner. He carved it up and left the carcass on a plate on the counter while we went to eat. Granted, we never should have done that. We have a dog whose nose gets him in nearly constant trouble. Hound dogs are a real pain that way.

We thought the dogs were with us the entire time, but one of them must have slunk off and conducted a raid. I even looked askance at Jojo Kitty because I wouldn’t put it past him to wage a full on battle with a chicken carcass. He gave me a look that implied that I could go screw myself, that he didn’t have a chicken, and didn’t like what I was implying. It was a totally normal cat look. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary there. Actually, he’s probably pissed that the dogs didn’t share.

We’ve looked everywhere for that pile of bones. It was still shaped like a chicken the last time we saw it. It’s not in any of the bedrooms or closets. Neither of the bathrooms. Not in the pantry. I shoved the boy behind the couch, but there was no bird back there either. Also, the couch cushions are poultry free. Not in the laundry or shoved in any of our shoes. I’m telling you we’ve looked everywhere.

My delightful father suggested that we’d find it in a day or so when it starts to smell. You see how he’s not helpful?