The Leopard

     A Leopard approached the leader of the litter and said, "Sir, I think I would like to try something else."
     The leader was incredulous. Even though leopards are basically solitary animals, he was one of those types who can't imagine why anyone would ever want to be disloyal to him. "What do you mean? How could you do this to me?"
     "I was thinking that I might try hunting for monkey. I know how you love eating birds, but hunting a more clever animal might be more challenging for me; and I have to say, I'm a little tired of eating birds. They all taste like chicken."
     "Fine," said the leader, "no sweat off my spots. You may do well for awhile, but mark my words, you'll miss us. You'll be a flop with those monkeys and end up coming back a beaten and crushed woman, which, of course, will give me great pleasure."
     The Leopard bolted, left the litter and soon discovered that she felt about eating monkeys the way others felt about eating frog legs and tripe. Whether her aversion was irrational or not, didn't matter. Monkey, she thought, was gross. It was like eating a human being and that was really gross, because humans put all sorts of things into their systems that couldn't possibly be any good for anyone in the food chain.
     So the Leopard went back to hunting birds, though not with her old litter. The simple truth was, even if she never hunted monkey again, she enjoyed knowing that she had the option and that maybe one day, in an effort to hide any reminder of the fouler primate, she might try to filet the thing. One way or the other, it no longer mattered if she was back to eating bird ninety-nine point nine per cent of the time. Somehow it now felt more rewarding.

Moral: No one sticks around where they can't express themselves or eat something once in awhile that doesn't taste like chicken.