He who depends on himself will attain the greatest happiness. — Chinese Proverb.

It must be this proverbial state of mind that has compelled thousands of urban dwellers to acquire egg-laying hens - myself included.

Recently I was asked to save some hens from a divorce.  As the offer stood, we could have the whole set up: coop, food and all. After little thought, my fiancé and I agreed to take on the little critters with all the usual green dreams of self-sufficiency, which we like to pretend we have time for. Heck, the garden is partially complete and the compost bin must have something useable underneath all the napkins and orange peels. We always bring our re-usable totes to the grocery store, and we have those special swirly light bulbs to save energy. It only seemed logical to take on some chickens.

So, we loaded the birds into a cage and headed home. Little did we know there was fowl play going on in the back of the old Subaru. The dominant hen had plucked a large baked-potato size bald spot on the other's hind quarter, then proceeded to gouge and peck a finger deep and long hole into the naked flesh of the poor little bird. While the blood pooled, all I could think was, "Oh shit! We're going to have to have chicken stew for dinner." 

I quickly separated the two. Inside, I Googled like mad, trying to find out what just happened.

Chicken cannibalism. It's a real occurrence, and luckily, can be easily remedied by providing adequate space for the hens to roam. 

Ah, the world of the urban chicken farmer. I was officially initiated - and I'd joined a growing club.

Urban chicken farming?

It's as simple as it sounds. Urban chicken farming just means raising chickens in your back yard – a small act of individual self-sustenance in a world of corporate dependence – harvesting the eggs and good karma that come with them. It takes a little bit of work, some research, the proper equipment and a good eye for roosters (which aren't allowed in most municipalities, tend to have nasty temperaments, annoy neighbors and, obviously, don't lay eggs), but it can most certainly be done, and it's being done all over in cities like Olympia and even places like Tacoma.

Along with cannibalism, Google brought up a plethora of chicken-raising info. It was apparent that (aided by a resurgence of sorts that's swept the land over the last few years - and especially places like Olympia) chickens are becoming more contagious than chicken pox. City slickers, liberals, conservatives, Greeners, military - everyone is buying stock in the guaranteed return of chicken DIY.

Shit, Newsweek - freakin' Newsweek! - even covered the growing urban chicken farming trend way back in 2008, with Jessica Bennett writing, "Over the past few years, urban dwellers driven by the local-food movement, in cities from Seattle to Albuquerque, have flocked to the idea of small-scale backyard chicken farming - mostly for eggs, not meat - as a way of taking part in home-grown agriculture."

I was now part of that flock.

Some history

There's good reason for urban chicken farming's growing popularity. Chickens are practical. They are low maintenance. You get fertilizer. You get weed and pest control. You get fresh, delicious eggs. And, if you want, you get chicken for dinner. Perhaps most importantly, you get the satisfaction that comes along with creating a ripple effect of sustenance throughout your life and community.

During WWI and WWII, chicken farming was considered a patriotic duty. Along with growing backyard victory gardens to aid the war efforts, raising hens was campaigned as the civil thing to do.  One ad stated, "Uncle Sam expects you to keep hens and raise chickens."  

In this day and age, with economic instability, shady food industry practices and a slew of environmental concerns, the "patriotic duty" of our time is one of sustainable efforts - and raising chickens fits in better than ever.

In Olympia and Tacoma, advocates had to fight for the right to raise poultry. It wasn't until six years ago, after plenty of prodding the city council, that Olympians were allowed the three-hen limit they have today. Roosters aren't allowed. To the north, in 2006 the City of Tacoma, which allows any amount of livestock except the dreaded rooster, considered banning poultry, only to find majority resistance in the community.

Wrote one concerned citizen: "We use our shy quarter-acre to raise grapes, blueberries, raspberries, apples, pears, garden crops, and our chickens. The birds are integral to our production. The proposed ban would disrupt our attempt at producing wholesome food in an integrated and self-contained manner."

The ban was withdrawn.

While there is currently no limit to the number of hens one can have in Tacoma, laws do state they should be kept 50 feet from property lines.  But the ordinance allows for variances, so as long as neighbors are cool with it. It's not a rigidly enforced policy. This is an interesting clause in the law, but it seems to work just fine. The majority of people seem to be in hen harmony. 

In practice

Speaking of harmony, my injured bird recovered with healthy resilience and is a happy hen today, doing her part to balance out nature. Her name is Miss Eggy. The other is Hennibal Lector. Naming the chickens is part of the fun; the best I've heard yet is Hen Solo and Princess Layer. They each have their own personality and are always entertaining. They like to hop on the deck and visit us through the window, crooning and pruning along, their silky brown feathers shiny in the sun.

Chickens, at least in reasonable numbers, are surprisingly easy to keep. Besides the simple feeding, which consists of kitchen scraps and crumble or scratch, they require little more. A vented coop with a light for heat and eggs in the winter (layers - egg-laying hens - only produce with at least 12 hours of light exposure), some straw or wood chips, a grassy place to roam and voila! - happy chickens. They never stray far from their coop and can be corralled with minimal effort.

In Portland, where you're allowed to have three hens without a permit, Olympia-native Sarah Mooney is a chicken enthusiast. She keeps three layers she fondly refers to as "my girls." Mooney is an invaluable resource in her community. She's been featured in an urban chicken documentary and her home coop will be a stop on the Rose City's Tour De Coop this month - an annual event in Portland that allows people to tour local coops and get the information they need to jump onboard the urban chicken farming bandwagon. Recently, Mooney also taught a "Chickens 101" class at the Portland Nursery and had more than 40 participants. 

"I think that Portland, as well as others cities in the Pacific Northwest, has a unique community of people who are very interested in being independent and self sufficient. I hear the phrase ‘Urban Homesteading' more and more frequently these days. Ripping up your lawn and putting in raised beds, rain capture systems and a chicken coop is not unusual even in the nicest of neighborhoods," Mooney says.

Back in Olympia, chicken farming is just as infectious. On the Eastside there are at least eight homes within a quarter mile radius that participate in this rewarding movement. 

Rus and Heidi Geh might single-handedly be responsible for this cluster of cluckers. For the past five years, the Gehs have run a community garden, and provided chickens, eggs and chicken tractors to interested families.  When I caught up with the Gehs, they were busy loading one of their chicken tractors in the back of their truck for a delivery. The tractor is essentially a coop on wheels that allows the chicks to be moved from one part of the yard to the next, while keeping them enclosed - essential for unfenced yards and handy for replenishing winter soil or rotating crops.

I followed the Gehs on a tour of the neighborhood as they pointed out which neighbors had chickens and how many of what breed. The stories kept me entertained, such as stories of wandering chickens making their way through the yards of like-minded neighbors. And stories about hens narrowly escaping swooping eagles and loose dogs. Riding on the same resiliency Miss Eggy must have, one chicken was left for dead - its intestines hanging out - only to miraculously heal completely.  The Gehs also offered helpful tidbits, like adding ground oyster shells to the chicken scratch to provide extra calcium and produce thicker eggshells.

Bringing it all home

I left the Geh's home with two tomato plants and an urge to Google more chicken stories.  I read about hens alerting their owners when a member of the flock is in trouble. I read about chickens coming in the house or cooling in the swimming pool. I read about one chicken that enjoyed sledding with kids  - one of my favorite stories.

There were also detailed accounts of butchering chickens and the heads rolling around on the barn house floor. I realize this is the next step in self-sustenance, and I briefly wonder if I can take that plunge.

Nah, not yet. But the eggs are a good start. And hey, the garden looks better, there are tufts of spinach poking through the soil and the radishes are doing great. 

I go out back and call for my little garden helpers, "bockedy bock bock," and they run over, eager for a treat. I toss them a few grapes and they go to town, pecking with vigor.  They follow me to their coop, singing the same bockedy bock song. I reach into their nest.

Ta-da! Two fresh, brown eggs.

I think we'll have egg salad sandwiches for lunch. I smile as my four-year-old tosses the flock another grape.

It's a win-win.