Chickens in the Basement

I love to write and I love to laugh. When I write, I get to the point quick. My stories would fit on the back of a postcard. They usually make me chuckle. And you know what they say, "It's all about me!"

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Meet My New Feathered Friends, Bob and Barbara


When I was little, I recall waking up to the sound of Bob White quail calling to each other throughout town. I haven't heard their call regularly since 1976. In case you've never heard their call, it sounds like the name "Bob" being dragged out and low, followed by "White" in a quick, high pitch tone.






My brother is raising several kinds of birds, mostly to release into hunting compounds. When I found out he was raising Bob Whites, I decided I wanted some. My plan: I want a pair of love birds who will hatch a brood a couple of times a year. I'll raise them until they are old enough to release, then I'll let them go into the woods behind our house. According to Brother Dave, once the birds start their "Boooooob White" calls, it will attract others in the neighborhood. We should be able to hear them every morning. I had to assure Tony these little fellows would not be louder than Skippy Rooster!






Last week, Mom came from Nashville to visit for a day. She brought along 4 little quail, about 4 weeks old. Unfortunately, two died before I could get them set up in a cage with a heat light on them. I should have been better prepared. Yes, I feel guilty! (I had to go to SuzAnna's Antiques to get a vintage bird cage on a stand! http://suzannasantiques.blogspot.com/)






But once that heat lamp was on the babies, they were very happy. If they could hear us nearby, they would sit quietly in the cage and watch us. If we got quiet, they took it upon themselves to fill the silence with increasingly loud PEEPS, no Booooob Whites yet. Will, my oldest boy who is a perpetual noise maker (whistling, humming, singing, talking in redneck, Scottish, British, Australian, etc. accents), so I was surprised when he complained that he couldn't sleep with these chatty birds carrying on.












Once again, poor Riley Dog got new roommates. Bob and Barbara White moved into their new cage in the garage. I can't wait until my woods are filled with their mournful calls. I think I was telling the truth when i said the quail wouldn't be as loud as Skippy.

1 comment:

Vintage Christine said...

Chickens in the basement and quail in the garage! I don't know if we have bobwhites down here but one of my favorite bird sounds is the call of the mourning dove, and we have plenty of those. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I couldn't hear the birds (and pretty soon we'll start hearing the geese on their way further south!). Keep us informed on the babies' progress, please. My word verification word is RAPSOWL--how funny!