Northern California Town Faces Fowl Realities

Welcome to Fair Oaks Village, where dozens, if not hundreds, of chickens roam the town free. Nostalgia conjures up a more bucolic era--a time when cute chicks skittered after hens in the village green, a time when folks could slow down to appreciate the vibrant colors of a Rhode Island red.

Unfortunately, nostalgia doesn’t contemplate the foul realities of modern life. Or the ruffled feathers that follow a rooster attack.

The folks of Fair Oaks aren’t farmers anymore. They’re suburbanites, with SUVs and a clogged freeway a mile away. So no one takes care of the chickens, which have been declared wild by county animal control.

A rooster recently went on a pecking attack at the playground. A half dozen times each summer, one of the clumsy birds flops out of an oak tree into someone’s escargot at the four-star Slocum House restaurant. Minivans stop in the middle of the street as the oblivious poultry strut across, blocking traffic.

Despite the inconvenience of the birds, most people here say they love them. The village is one of the few working relics of California’s 19th century. People flock from their tract homes to the charming downtown on weekends, filling the antiques stores and quaint coffee shops. Having chickens around is good for business.

“I like that they’re here because it’s not so sterile,” said LoAnn Olin, a visitor from Santa Rosa who comes frequently and was waiting for her lunch at a vegetarian restaurant. “It makes it more human, for some reason.”

The village merchants’ association is even considering a chicken festival, complete with a barbecue contest.

“It is something we kick around to capitalize on the chicken thing,” said David Hill, 41, owner of Fair Oaks Hardware and a town native.

Chicken paraphernalia is ubiquitous in local businesses. The Slocum House has a chicken-themed mailbox. The hardware store carries chicken planters and “chicken crossing” signs. The Chamber of Commerce drums up the chicken theme at its annual fair, with events such as the rubber chicken toss.

Everywhere you go in and around Fair Oaks, chickens are there--outside the dentist’s office, laying eggs in barrels of nails at the hardware store, crowing boisterously across from the firehouse.

Most locals say artist Hugh Gorman, a creator of vast pastel murals, was the original chicken liberator here. That was 1977, he recalled, when he was a member of the wife-swapping artists’ colony on Harmony Hill, an area since converted to an office park.

A free spirit who can’t stand to chain his dog, Barely, Gorman wouldn’t coop up his four hens and rooster despite neighbors’ complaints.

So they roamed free, roosting in low branches and sleeping in scratched-out depressions in the dirt.

The chickens thrived, growing into a population of eight to 10 flocks. The birds have become a tourist attraction, just as they are in Sonoma, another Northern California town where wildfowl roam the central green.

The chickens may have overstayed their welcome in Sonoma, however. In May, the City Council voted to remove a dozen boisterous roosters after attacks on five children.

Many people in Fair Oaks treat the chickens almost like pets, but the critters remain decidedly wild.

Three-year-old Logan Couch learned that the hard way last month, when he was attacked by a rooster in the playground. “I didn’t chase him,” the boy insists. “I just went to see him and he bit me. Maybe he didn’t want to see anybody.”

Even as he spoke, two roosters squared off beside the swing set, 20 feet away. Gorman, a lanky native Californian with riveting blue eyes, feels a certain responsibility for incidents like that. He worries about roosters with spurs, the sharp talons on the back of their legs. When he sees one get aggressive with children, he gets a friend to help solve the problem.

“I’ve got a big fishing net, and we just go get it and chop its head off,” he said.

Eugene Borman is a local veterinarian with gentle eyes and wild eyebrows. In his 24 years working in town, he has set many a foolhardy rooster’s leg after a disastrous game of chicken with a car or truck. He says raccoons, possums and feral cats make sure there is plenty of “recycle” in the chicken population.

There are villagers who, usually in hushed tones, disparage the local broods. It’s not a popular position.

“People like the chickens, so I don’t want to be the one who’s causing any trouble,” said one restaurant manager, who asked that her name not be used to avoid possible retaliation.

She says customers complain about the bold birds disturbing outdoor meals. There are also angry calls to the Chamber of Commerce about chickens blocking streets, said Marsha Karley, the group’s executive director.

But there are enough pro-chicken people to ensure the birds survive.

Hill is happy to dole out $25 worth of chicken feed each month. Gorman let Fred, his rooster, ride in his Porsche Roadster. And Borman released Newman from the Old Towne Animal Hospital last month after the rooster’s leg had healed from a collision with a garbage truck.

“They add a unique flavor to the area,” Borman said. “In our helter skelter society--rush, rush, rush--these chickens are out there leading a relaxed pace of life.”