Months ago my mother brought before the City Council a chicken ordinance. This decree called for the domesticity of chickens for all Provo citizens. As far as the bold and the brave go, my mother--The City Councilwoman--stands tall. To further amaze you, I will divulge that in real life she is pretty short.
I don't know about your side of town, but here in the tree streets chickens are the shiz. Everybody wants a coop, everybody wants fresh eggs, everybody wants to look just a little bit more organic than their neighbor. We will address this path of pride later, and maybe. Families were holding chickens in their backyards against the law. This time in caps: Families were holding chickens in their backyards AGAINST THE LAW. Do you have any idea what is was like for me to be living amongst outlaws? In caps: AMONGST OUTLAWS?
So days before the big Chicken Debate my sister Page (an outlaw of huge chicken herd proportions) gets an call from Animal Control who informs her that someone called in a threat against her and she had 24 hours to give the chickens away. Reports came in that others were receiving the same threat to their coops. Here is the deal Animal Control, if you really cared about animals you'd give their owner a little bit longer than 24 hours to find them a proper home. I mean, 24 hours? To give away a flock of hens? Were you hoping to not have to buy a ham for this years Animal Control Christmas dinner? Is that it?
Skipping back to the debate, it turns out that the council passes my mothers ordinance 4-3. This is good news. Back in my neighborhood I hear fireworks exploding and revelers in the streets acting like they've been swiped with bird flu, gone crazy. All is well right?
Because the ordinance passed 4-3 and not 5-2, the Mayor got a swing at it with his veto stamp. The man came out VETO stamp blazing and shot down the ordinance like the quick and the dead. The town was so stunned at his ruthless roadblock, you could hear a hen lay and egg on a soft bed of straw.
But would my mother give up? Would The Councilwoman not carry on? No. Not her! No! She went ahead and changed some wording, fixed stipulations here and there and stood before the council one more time, a humble servant of the town.
She shot, the vote went up. This time 5 hands were raised in favor. The chickens wouldn't have to face the Mayor and his veto stamp ever again. Coops are being raised, fresh eggs are being fetched and outlaws are coming out of their hiding. It is a good day to be a Provonian.
By the way, perhaps you noticed that the Mayor wrote about the chicken ordinance in the monthly Provo newsletter? Thanks to The Councilwoman and her fearless advocacy of friend and fowl alike.