During my time in the bush, has enabled me to have some interesting relationships, with some unusual creatures. None more so than the one I am about to describe

It just over a year ago now, while I was having a short break between drives, lying on the couch in our lounge. I hadnít been relaxing for very long when I felt something vigorously attacking the toes of my left foot.
When I peered over the edge of the seat, I made instant eye contact with my attacker, a young male Crested Francolin.
I realized I had forgotten to put out some bird food and clearly this little feathered creature was not about to let me forget it. I got up slowly maneuvering around this cheeky little bird and was even more surprised when he followed me to the store room to collect a cup of bird seed. Waddling along behind me uttering soft chook chook, like sounds, so he kind of named himself.
I hadnít seen Chook Chook around for close on 8 months now and two days ago, while making necklaces with a replica leopard tooth on it at our outside table. I was amazed to feel a familiar assault on my toes, being executed by the little man himself.
I naturally have a huge affinity for this little Francolin, as he was the one who chose to initiate the relationship, clearly seeking to continue our liaison.
He still follows me to the store room, probably to make sure I got the message and waits for me to call him over to where I put the food down for the greater avian populace. Before I do I always give Chook Chook the kings helping from my hand before feeding the growing number of agitated spectators.
He comes and goes as he pleases with his little bevy of three others, I often wonder what they think of little Chook Chook, as he certainly gets some strange reactions from the other francolins he hangs around with.
He has been round for the past three or four days now, but I have not been summoned by him today so far. I am proud to say that my new best friend is a small francolin, with a very large opinion of himself.
coming over digging in stuffed chicken