Duck, Duck, Goose Chicken

I found a chicken bone in my chicken salad last night.  I took a bite of my sandwich and had started chewing when I felt something hard.  I stopped chewing then.  No, I did not choke, nor did I break a tooth.  And I am not going to sue.  I simply fished the bone out of my mouth and took another bite.  I wasn't grossed out.  I wasn't disgusted.  The bone hadn't disturbed me at all.  In fact, it was almost comforting knowing that the chicken I was eating was, in all actuality, chicken.