Easy Sunday: A quail has bonded to me.

He talks to me. 

Follows me around on the ground underfoot. 

Flies to the different windows to look in at me as I move around inside.

Tries to get into the door when I enter or exit.

A quail has imprinted on me. 

Trying to find me inside

Waiting outside near the door

Getting ready to scramble inside as I enter or exit

I think the topknot is more black than brown, so my little friend is probably male. An experienced biologist (and hunter of quail with trained bird dogs) says he is a California Quail, one of many varieties of quails. A Google search tells me that quail do imprint on people and that for that reason people sometimes keep them as pets. Apparently he saw me at the right developmental moment. I was the moving object he noticed on his third day of life. Maybe he saw me weeding my planter boxes of vegetables.

Quails nest on the ground and lay two clutches of eggs per year, each with about a dozen eggs. Quail have the R-Reproduction strategy, which means small size, huge litters, high mortality. There are some thick hibiscus flower beds near my house, and if I lived on the ground and knew I needed to hide from hawks and owls, then that is where I would hide. But I have stayed away from the flower bed to give the nest -- if there is one -- some privacy.

The quail follows me around on the porch, patio, and parking area, which is very exposed. I worry that his bonding to me is a dangerous strategy for him. There is a pair of barn owls in the barn 100 yards away. My porch isn't a safe place. Nor is the driveway. My little visitor likes to scramble under vehicles parked near the door. He nestles in front of or behind a tire without any comprehension of the peril of that spot. I manage to get him out of the way before I move the car.

The quail has been around for a week. He chirps at me as I move around and do chores. I thought maybe he was asking for food. Yesterday I relented and put out a torn-up bagel, which he ignored, then pumpkin seeds, which he also ignored. He doesn't seem to want my food. He wants my company. It is sort of sweet and reminds me of time years ago when little ones sought my company and climbed into my lap.

He has bonded to me. I will try not to bond to him. It's Fathers' Day, though. I suppose I should go ahead and give him a name. 

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