Tour Manager Kathi McIvor writes:
I call him my boidfriend in jest, but there certainly is a bond between us, and it’s a mystery to me why he chose me.

Photo by Kathi McIvor
Sometime in October a Greater Roadrunner started following me around our acreage as I went about pruning or pulling weeds. I was surprised at how close he would come; though he always kept a discreet distance, it was obvious he was following me. Over the next few weeks whenever I went outside he would come running, clacking his beak, and almost coming within reach. One afternoon as I was pulling grass out of the garden, he came to me and dropped a feather at my feet. Over the next few weeks he brought me four more feathers, most of them from doves. Occasionally he’d come to our door and clack his beak until Mac or I opened the door. We hadn’t encouraged this attention or fed him: it was the roadrunner that initiated the contact.
Around the first week of December the advances stopped. Early on a weekend morning I saw a smaller roadrunner in the yard with the bird that had befriended us. It was obvious: they were a couple, and I’d been dumped! I was a little miffed; I’d so enjoyed his quiet company as I puttered around the yard, but now nature was at work.
This past weekend I noticed a pile of feathers in the laneway. I assumed that one of the local bobcats had nailed a quail, but on closer inspection I saw that the feathers had come from a roadrunner–my heart was heavy to think that it might have been the bird that had charmed us. A moment later I heard an odd cross between a coo and a mew from a nearby brushpile. As I looked around the male roadrunner rushed up and stood at my feet cooing. I suspect that a hawk or a bobcat got his lady friend, and the survivor now sleeps under the motorhome.
I’ve tried not to add more to our relationship than what is fact, but I swear this roadrunner has feelings and enjoys our company. As I was getting in the car this morning, he made eye contact and greeted me with his old clacking, staying tucked in where he was, dry and safe. I hope he finds a new mate to start the New Year with.