Perhaps you’ve slowly evolved into the sort of gardener who considers him (or her) self to be on the cutting edge of environmental consciousness—one who frequently rattles off words like “sustainable, eco-friendly, green, biodiverse, Al Gore,  and certified organic.” Well, if you haven’t got chickens, forget it.Chickens are in. And if you can get your hands on a few of those real fuzzy, colorful ones—the heirloom breeds that look more like long-haired cats padding around in feathery slippers—you’ll be the envy of everyone on your block.   “Save the Planet—Eat Locally,” we’re told. And, what can be more local than your own back yard. There, a few fryers can roam free on your urban farmette, pecking at the stray slug or carpenter ant. And in return each day, they’ll provide you with a couple of pale orange, blue or pink eggs. (White eggs are SO 1990.)   Urban chicken farming has become, well, so incredibly trendy. But, it wasn’t always like this. Back in the 70’s, down the alley behind our Chicago bungalow, the favorite hangout for kids was the yard with the extra lot and the Depression-era chicken coop.  With plain old chickens inside. Tended by a retired guy who liked his tiny, carp-filled cement pond, his peonies, his lilac hedge and his cigar.

We had achicken, too. A cement chicken.  And a couple of gnomes. Irescued thechicken when my mother moved a few years ago. Now itwatches over myherb garden, just a little worse for the wear some 30years later. So,I’ve Recycled! I’m Green!  And, I don’t have to worryabout mycholesterol.

— Nina Koziol