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More than a year ago, I gave in to an ancient and insistent urge. I visited the town offices, examined their codes and discovered that "livestock," no matter the size, were prohibited in my neighborhood. Livestock included horses, cows, pigs, sheep and goats. I had to agree that we lacked the space in our smallish back yards to keep such creatures.

But chickens? A half-dozen of the pretty bantams I had in mind would not equal the weight of the three dogs that live in my neighbor's yard. I realize that I'm begging the question, and that the argument has nothing to do with space but purpose.

If your creature will save you a trip to the grocery store, then its life in your yard is suspect. No need to cloud the issue by mentioning the deer, groundhogs, raccoons, skunks and rabbits that have free run of our neighborhood, foraging on flowers and vegetables, scattering their scat at will.

Things were not always so. Until the 1950s, many had their rabbit hutches behind the garage with a small chicken yard and coop adjacent to the garden.

With the expanding economy, the growth of suburbs and the rise of industrial farms, a shift took place. We liked skipping the sweat and dirt that putting food on the table required.

We became irritated with nature's wake-up call from the flock's rooster that never failed to inform his wives and us that it was time to be "up and at 'em!" We liked living like kings. No one needs to be reminded that the bubble burst.

With the worst food price inflation in 18 years and the highest food stamp use since that program began in the 1960s, we are experiencing another shift in values.

Once again, urban farming and the local food it offers is looking like a brilliant idea. Do chickens have a role in this new self-sufficiency? They do indeed, and they are playing it with gusto.

One Google search for "urban chickens" revealed the critical mass that has been reached. Hundreds of municipalities including Baltimore; Chicago; Louisville, Ky.; Chapel Hill and Raleigh, N.C.; and boroughs of New York City have rewritten their codes.

In their wisdom, they describe flock size, usually in the single digits, the distance from neighbors' property, the sanitary conditions required, the prohibition of roosters and backyard butchering.

I asked what my professor friend in poultry science at Virginia Tech thought. He replied that I must address the real fear of avian flu.

A year ago, in the Oct. 8 issue of The Christian Science Monitor, Eoin O'Carroll cited World Watch as saying that many city officials were "brooding over public health concerns, particularly avian flu, of which there were no reported cases in the U.S." World Watch pointed out that the Pew Commission on Independent Farm Animal Production found factory-farmed poultry to pose a greater risk for disease than backyard chickens.

If the article by Susan Orlean in the Sept. 28 issue of the New Yorker is your introduction to the topic, then you are discovering how enormous the change is. Titled, "The It Bird," Orlean says that "chickens seem to be a perfect convergence of the economic, environmental, gastronomic and emotional matters of the moment."

This shift was also addressed in the March issue of National Geographic. It featured a beautiful photo of the Bronx elder gardener, Abu Talib, in his green apron with a chicken under his arm and an apartment building in the background, saying, "Just a few chickens and you can feed yourself. He who controls your breadbasket controls your destiny."

My town officials were friendly and helpful. They explained the process for amending a code, and placed my request on the long list of things they had to do.

I expect that they will see this request as timely and beneficial to our desire to provide for ourselves and to reteach our children about the bond that can exist between us and creatures other than those we keep as pets.