And then there were two...

We love the quail who live in and around our house.
I like the bobbing heads and the little flippy feathers on the male's heads.
I find them a fun kind of bird.
We do our best to protect them from roaming cats and dive bombing hawks.
Every year we delight when the baby quail hatch and we come upon a mother quail scrambling to get her little family back in under the bushes where they apparently roost.
We find them on the sidewalk in the mornings and out back in the herb plants in the evenings.
We try not to upset or harass them.
This year, however, we kept surprising them when we came out of our garage.
When the garage door would go up, they would panic.
One day, they scurried about and several of the nine chicks ran back into the garage, behind our garbage can.
I worried about them getting stuck inside and not being able to figure out how to get out.
So when I returned from an errand, I pulled the garage can out.
Sure enough, there was a frantic little chick back there trying to hide.
He went behind a piece of cardboard I had behind the can.
I moved the cardboard and he ran out, fortunately toward the open door and freedom.

I thought he was the only one.
But the next day, Marc found a lifeless baby bird on the cement, then another.
I guess they had hidden deeper inside and died for lack of food and water.
Then I found some fluff and tiny feathers on the walk.
We're assuming a hawk had a snack.
Now when I see the mother quail I can only count two chicks. Who knows what happened to the other four?
Life in our yard is obviously a dangerous life for a quail.
I'm not sure how to protect them, how to ensure they live long enough to grow up.
At this juncture, I can only cross my fingers and consider posting "No Trespassing" signs around our yard.
Maybe I should buy a BB gun and fence off the garage door.