I read with interest last week a story about a woman in Wales who spent almost $4000 in vets bills when her chicken injured its leg.

Now, I understand how people can become very attached to their pets, but this takes the biscuit. The chicken, called Lily, had trapped its leg in a barbed wire fence, and when treatment failed the owner (Mrs Mills) paid for an amputation.

This story on its own was enough to pique my interest, but what really captured my attention was the following quote:

Lily was also diagnosed with depression but has now recovered, said Mrs Mills.

This raises the question – how did they know the chicken was depressed? Did they sit the one-legged chicken down on a small leather couch and ask her how she was feeling? Was she caught trying to hang herself? Was she constantly crying into her feed bowl?

The story says that the chicken’s gloominess was thought to have been brought on by being home alone. C’mon guys, this is a chicken! What is she doing inside anyway?

Apparently the chicken’s depressive condition was improved by leaving the television on. I should have guessed – TV solves everything. The chicken probably spends all its time watching KFC adverts, glad that it is not in the bucket.

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