Literally thousands of scaup touched down and rested in the North Basin this spring season on their way back to their breeding grounds in northern Canada. All of them departed by the end of May, except this one individual, a male. He was paddling and preening vigorously in the company of about six dozen big grebes. Judging by the energy of his bathing ritual, there was nothing wrong with him physically, and he showed no typical signs of depression or despondency. Yet here he was, the only bird of his ilk on the water. Scaup are normally gregarious, traveling in flocks, and gathering in numbers that stretched to the horizon. What makes one individual decline the migration and all that goes with it? Where is Dr. Doolittle and his ability to talk animal language so we could interview this unique individual?