Boys being boys...

Our quails have no trouble going broody, and hatching chicks (getting the chicks to survive to maturity is another issue...) so the boys are definitely doing their job. However, our quails do seem to prefer a single male-female pairing, and some females are more popular than others, leading to all sorts of struggles.

We currently have almost as many males as females - which just doesn't work. We have eaten a few boys, and sold some others, and when our current young males mature we will have to do the same again.

We can't work out why some girls seem to have "it" while others are ignored - is it age? Markings? Pheromones? Likewise, the males also show a decided pecking order, with one taking the role of Alpha Male, and mating with all the girls, while other lesser males have to use sneaky tactics. They can be helped by the girls themselves, who will allow the Alpha Male to mate, but will then turn on him viciously, and drive him away after the event, running off with one of the others. The girls often seem to choose their mates, and many spend their days in happy seclusion with their preferred partner, putting up with occasional attacks by other (unpartnered) males, or the Alpha Male.  It's confusing, and we haven't yet worked out the best ratio, or how to ensure they all partner happily. All the birds are different, and have strong personalities, and their preferences seem to change.

However, when two birds fight - for whatever reason -  it can be quite spectacular (and difficult to photograph, apologies for the blurred pics!)

Cue music: "it's the eye of the tiger..."

"It's the thrill of the fight..."

 

"Rising up to the challenge of our rival..."

 Once the fight is over, the birds dust themselves off and move away. One of our oldest males - Fog - had been top male for quite a while, and is still very reluctant to cede his position. His younger replacement, Fedderdix, is in his prime. Fog is still only a year or so old, but he's had a hard life, including three weeks in a cast with a broken leg! At the moment he's looking decidedly the worse for wear, as he gets attacked by both males and females. Most of the feathers from the back of his neck have been pulled out, but he still seems happy enough, and hops onto the top of the compost heap to crow...this is his favourite place, and he spends much of his time perched on high, while the other birds rummage for worms and bugs below.

Fog looking somewhat scruffy...

After yet another battle - a stiff drink is needed...