When it comes to investing my retirement funds in failed banks, I’ve been batting 1000. In fact, based on past performance, I could give you a list of the next three or four major US institutions that are going to fold. I’ve got stock in all of them. My efforts to get a chunk of the bailout money Congress is throwing around have not been successful despite the fact that my management decisions have been about as stupid as those made by the Wall Street guys (who think they deserve bonuses for their stellar performance). So I’ve been looking at ways to cut back a little bit without really compromising my quality of life.
Substantial cuts are actually pretty difficult to make, at least for somebody who hasn’t been living lavishly to begin with. I could unplug the hot tub and save $30 on the power bill, or convert to generic macaroni and cheese. I suppose I could get by with a season pass at only one ski resort, or sell a kidney on eBay, but there’s no reason to get extreme. Things are not that dire.
But an article in Newsweek recently caught my eye. Actually, it was the online version, which is a lot more interesting these days than the print edition. The article was about urban poultry farming. That’s right, raising chickens in the backyard. Raising your own food was a proud tradition a generation or so ago, when people had Victory Gardens in the backyard during WWII to produce as much of their food as they could, leaving the more industrial food supply available to support the troops. Home-grown food can be very good. It can also be awful.
There is a whole movement towards eating local. Eliminating as much of the freight component of food is good for the environment. Some people think it’s important to build a personal relationship with the farmers who raised their potatoes. Locally produced food tends to be fresher than stuff trucked in from California. That’s a large part of the premise behind farmers’ markets. There’s nothing quite as tasty as a grapefruit raised right here in Summit County. OK, so there are limits to the idea.
Still, the notion of backyard chickens kind of grew on me. After all, I actually live on a working ranch. I could raise my own beef and keep a milk cow in the backyard. According to Newsweek, people in big cities all across the country are raising chickens in their backyards. How tough can it be?
But then I remembered my grandparents in Idaho who raised chickens. While the baby chicks are about as cute as cute can get, the mother hens are demonically possessed. Being asked to help gather the morning’s eggs was about like being asked to fight my way into the heart of Sadr City with a BB gun. The laying hens were not happy about having their eggs taken, and let me know it in no uncertain terms. They left Grandpa alone, but were fully prepared to peck my eyes out.
So I’m not sure I want to get into the chicken business. Millions apparently have done it, and the “urban poultry” movement is coming home to roost all across the country. There are several websites on it, and a magazine called Backyard Poultry. I tried to read the current issue of Backyard Poultry online, but could only get the table of contents. I wanted to read the cover story, “Gift Ideas for Your Chickens.” They’re so hard to shop for. The little sweaters I got them last year really flopped.
City chicken raisers frequently run afoul of the law. Not all cities have been receptive to the idea of backyard chicken coops. Park City is the kind of place where the full force of City Hall is standing by to tear down a tree house. In a place like that, I was willing to bet, raising chickens would be a hanging offense. But I was wrong. Chickens are welcome in Park City. There are just a few rules. It’s illegal to allow your domesticated animals to run at large. Your chickens can’t cross the road. You can’t raise chickens for cock fighting, or create a nuisance from noise, odor, or unsanitary conditions. It turns out the city code actually protects your chickens. It is illegal for dogs to “attack, chase, or worry” domestic fowl. If the dogs can’t worry the chickens, it’s pretty clear that the tree-house-destroying planners won’t either.
The covenants in the newer neighborhoods generally ban any animals other that household pets. There are lawsuits from all over the country trying to define which animals are household pets (snakes, monkeys, pot-belly pigs, peacocks), and which are not. But there’s no reason why a chicken couldn’t be a household pet that just happens to lay eggs and eventually turns into soup. We also have neighborhoods that were zoned for horses. Surely if you can keep a horse, you could keep a few chickens there.
Developers may be able to raise chickens in the unsold condos or foreclosed country club facilities dotting the local landscape. The egg money could help offset the operating costs, and there might be a lot of “green credibility” gained from having a flock of free-range chickens roaming on private golf courses. Hotel restaurants could advertise that their omelets were the freshest in town, with the eggs having been laid up on the 4th floor just a few minutes ago.
I’m not sure I’m ready to go into the chicken business. But it’s always nice to know there are options.
Tom Clyde served as Park City attorney in the 1980s and is the author of “More Dogs On Main Street.” He has been a columnist at The Park Record for more than 20 years.