I once shot a yearling doe with my bow in warm weather, and my wife, who did our butchering, put the quarters in the bottom of the fridge in a plastic bag, "just for a day or so". Bad idea. A week later, the smell in the fridge got really bad. I figured it was totally ruined, and asked her to get rid of it while I was at work.
I got home that afternoon, and found her at the kitchen sink, cutting up that doe. The house literally reeked of corruption. She would cut off a piece, and if she could sniff it without gagging, she kept it. If she gagged, she culled it. I thought she had gone stark-raving mad, but when she cooked it, it was the best venison I ever tasted!
I won't go that far now, but I sure don't worry any more about a little odor associated with aging.