Late at night, I sneak downstairs into the garage. It’s fairly isolated so I can turn the light on. I creep across the carpet (yes, my garage is carpeted) and check the young quails. Occasionally, they’ll need water or food, but usually by night they are asleep. Then I look in the other, smaller box. My special little mate usually gives me a chirp. It has no use of one leg and the other appears only partly useful.
I’ll pick him up and help him drink some water. I check there…Continue