So, yesterday, whilst taking out the trash, I almost stepped on a teeny, tiny, baby sparrow. It was wobbling around on the ground, not really able to walk very well, let alone fly. The little guy chirped at me a few times and wobbled over to a nearby planter and hid behind it. At the time, I just kind of assumed it was dying and really had no idea what to do for it.

I came inside and placed a call to Lakeside Nature Center. I already knew that they didn't take non-native species, as I once tried to save a pigeon that had been hit by a car on Ward Parkway. I was hoping that in the very least, they'd have some advice for how to keep this poor little guy from getting eating by a cat.

Sure enough, a spunky, cussing, very knowledgeable, bird rescuer called me back and told me that yes, indeed, house sparrows are an invasive species, they steal vital habitat from endangered species of native birds, they are a menace, they are loud and messy and obnoxious and I should build the little guy a nest and carefully feed it some dry cat food that I've moistened with water and place the nest where cats cannot reach it, close to it's parents nest in hopes that they will continue to care for the little clumsy thing. She said that these babies can take falls of 50-60 feet and be just fine and that I should check his poop tomorrow, and that if it has both the white (pee) and the dark (poop) stuff, that it's being fed by mom and dad and will probably be flying within a couple weeks.

So, I took one of my favorite baskets that I've had for like 20 years, that my darling husband was using to hold crap on his nightstand, and filled it with shredded newspaper and dry grass and carefully picked up the little squeaker, using and old washcloth, and placed him in the nest, while under close observation and protest of his parents, who were practically dive-bombing me. I took this as a very good sign that they are indeed looking after the little booger.

Then, there was the dilemma of where in the hell to put the improvised nest. The parents are currently nesting on a horizontal piece of downspout, just below the overhang of the roof, on the second floor. In other words... no way in hell I'm getting him back up there.

This is where the sweet husband comes in to save the day. He came outside and MacGyvered a stand for the nest.

So, that was my good(?) deed of the day.