There's a family of quail that live along the road where I turn into my place. So every time I round the corner onto that road, I slow way down. You never know if the quail will be wandering around, and I don't want to squish one. In my heart I know it's probably going to happen one day, I just don't want to be the one responsible.
Today when I turned, there were three of them bobbing along the side of the road. As usual, they got all panicky with a giant car heading towards them and started dashing around. One got really lost and turned in front of me, so I stopped and waited for him to find his way back.
Which is when a car rounded the corner behind me and screeched to a halt.
I couldn't see the little quail yet, so I didn't budge.
It couldn't have been more than 10 seconds, but the car behind me hit the gas and swerved around me, horn blaring.
This caused the little quail to run back to the bushes on the side of the road, so I continued on.
And then spent the next half-hour trying to figure out how one would go about convincing quail to relocate to a new, less dangerous, home.
My life would be so much easier if I didn't mind grinding a few quail into the pavement from time to time.
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You could make a “Endangered Quail Xing” sign right before it, so when you do have to stop, people aren’t such dicks about it.
Is “grinding a few quail” a euphemism for something? I’m out of touch with what you kids are saying these days.
Quail taste really good. But I’d feel bad hitting them with my car, too.