Quail diary _ 79. Walking with dandelions
Quail "hiding" - Oeuf with her favourite, unfortunately non-mouse-repelling ferret blanket
Eggs: 19 – and all is peaceful in the quail house. Behind the perspex, the temperature is pushing 20C and the quail have stripped off to bikinis and towels in the oyster grit beds. When the door opens they stir and stare through the fug, like punters in a sauna. Quail really, really don’t like a draft – not even when it heralds a shower of mealie worms or dandelion leaves. But I probably shouldn’t broil them. Meanwhile, the mice are busily nesting again, showering the quail with flock filling which they push out through holes chewed in the lagging. Time to take it down, last frosts or no.
They are big buggers, these mice. Fat, glossy and well fed. Digging the garden the other day, my attention was caught by the cat suddenly poleaxed, nose to plastic against the run. The mouse was there, in full view, ambling about – filling his supermarket trolley full of goodies. The poor cat was beside himself, and I confess felt a tad put out myself. The cheek! But the mouse didn’t turn a whisker, or at least not until Junior Teen came galloping up on tip-toe for a peek. When the little beast (the mouse, not Junior Teen) finally shrugged and decided it was time to rediscover the exit, it ran over two of the quail. Right across their backs… The quail didn’t turn a feather. Stupid birds.
Baby mouse - bye bye Monty
So I’ve got a problem: a quail house floor like the Mariana Trench, populated with butch rodents and their droogs, and a baby mouse that can’t live in Senior Teen’s bedroom forever. Release loomed, but where? Monty is now four weeks old, which is probably gap year age for a mouse, but she’s only little. Junior Teen pleaded for the shed (!?), but Himself and I settled on the park across the road – beside the dog poo area (to keep the cats off) and on the right side of the stream, to ensure she can come home when she wants. We did the deed yesterday. In the sun. She looked heartbreakingly small as she scampered off into the undergrowth, with a scatter of seed to tide her over the next few days. It’s hard to let them go.
So I took a deep breath and went to pick dandelions.
