Salem's zoning board is usually about as exciting as an infomercial. Last night, however, it looked and sounded like a reality television show, thanks to item No. 7 on the agenda: the fate of five urban chickens.
Federal Street neighbors, some wearing drawings of a chicken and a heart pinned to their shirts, flocked to the board meeting to defend the Tuttle family of 114 Federal St., whose backyard hens had run afoul of local zoning laws.
There were impassioned speeches — for and against the egg-layers.
"They're very loud," said Monica Trindade, who lives next door in a condominium building where the majority of tenants oppose the barnyard birds. "They start around 6:30 in the morning, and they squawk. They don't cock-a-doodle-doo — they squawk."
Beth Delnickas, another opponent, said her condo is for sale, and she is afraid the noisy chickens will hurt the property value.
"My Realtor is trying to shoo people through the (backyard) so they don't see the chickens," she said.
Several neighbors from the McIntire Historic District, the tony neighborhood where the birds reside, strongly disputed those claims, saying the chickens are as quiet as mice.
"I didn't even know they were there," said Darleen Melis of Federal Street.
A fellow chicken owner from Lafayette Street said he went over to the Tuttles' house to examine the garage coop and outdoor run where the hens reside.
"Martha Stewart couldn't do a better job," Stefano Picciotto said.
He didn't stop there, and even invoked the city's tragic past in his spirited defense.
"The neighbors, for some reason or other, are going on a witch hunt," he said, "except, in this case, it's a chicken hunt."
When she got a chance to respond, Trindade said: "It's not a witch hunt. It's not a chicken hunt. It's simply that they disturb the peace."
Even the Tuttle children — Libby, 14, Annie, 12, and William, 10 — walked to the front of the hearing room at 120 Washington St. to defend their pets. They are silver-laced Wyandottes, the children said, and they have names — Cora, Nellie, Henrietta, Ziti and Sharp.
"They're really great pets, and we clean up their poop daily," Annie said.
The issue, it turned out, had nothing to do with chicken waste, squawks or real estate values. After getting a complaint, the building inspector ruled that keeping chickens is an agricultural use prohibited in this residential neighborhood.
Yet several neighbors argued that the Tuttles aren't keeping a farm or selling anything — even though the hens lay a handful of eggs a day.
"It just flies in the face of reason to think this is an agricultural use," said John Carr of River Street, who admitted he might temper his support if the hens had a mate.
"I'm against roosters," he said, "but I'm for chickens."
Trindade, one of only two opponents who spoke, asked the zoning board where it would draw the line on agricultural usage.
"Does this mean that cows or goats or sheep or anything else well cared for is appropriate?" she said.
After the feathers stopped flying, the Board of Appeal ruled 5-0 in favor of the chickens — and the Tuttles. Two board members — Annie Harris and Rebecca Curran — even admitted having chickens as pets when they were young.
Trindade clearly wasn't happy with the ruling.
"It seems to me like a popularity contest more than a decision," she said.


