“Do you want a baby chicken?” asks the Mexican boy that lives across the street from me. I am not surprised by the question as my frontyard chickens are well-known in the neighborhood. He originally had two chicks but since the cat ate one he is not allowed to keep the other. “Yes! Yes!” I answer emphatically as I had promised my French friend Olivia (who recently lost her Bantam hen) to find her a new chicken. I give the thirsty “poussin” (which is French for “chick”) some fresh water and Olivia gives it a new name: pous-pous.