So says the great Cab Calloway:
However, try telling that to our cats.
All seven of them (the original Brady Bunch--my three, her three--and cousin Oliver, who came in from the back yard) prick up their ears and swarm toward us when the smell of chicken pervades the kitchen. Giles T. Katt, my senior cat, and the Watcher who protects against bullies and enforces order, gets particularly exited, his tail visibly vibrating with the thrill.
It's pretty adorable of course, but good luck to us trying to eat our own chicken.
Nothing but a bird? Not in this house.