Hmm. Thank you, Host, for the explanation of how mommy birds feed baby birds. Lots of people are actually aware of that. My sister, however, has saved several wounded birds around the house on behalf of my niece who wrings her hands as no other eight-year-old before her has done. Hence my thought about nursing the bird perhaps wasn't coming from some place of extraordinary head-in-the-sand naivete.

But I am glad, finally, to know what really happened to my dog!

So I was just out on the deck, you know, doing the things that hosts do. And I looked over at the feeder and there was an adult chickadee and a smaller one. I took one step and the adult took off. I walked closer, and the little one just sat there on the feeder. I patted his head with my finger - has a wild bird EVER let you do that?. I looked at his markings (distinctive, bird-to-bird). I just now looked at the photo again. It was him. He flew off into the apple tree.

So, yay for happy endings!

And Dave, I sent Jodi home yesterday - reluctantly. So, no more goo-goo eyes. Although if ever there was one to deserve them ...

Just last week one of my cats brought in a baby dove. I wasn't aware of it until I found the bird lying on its back on the living room floor. I picked it up and cradled it in both hands, thinking it was surely dead. After 5 minutes of mourning (I am VERY sucky that way), I saw it blink. I held it very still for another few minutes until, when I loosened my (gentle but firm) grip, it struggled a bit. No obvious damage had been done to wings, no cuts or blood, so I finally let my friend bring it back outside, where he released it at the tall cedar hedge and it flew right to the top.

I've saved and released frogs and mice, too, from the clutches of Mikey the Mighty Hunter.

That bird can fly, although not well. That means it was less than 48 hoursbfrom leaving the nest for good. So there is actually an excellent chance it survived.

And yes, I have dropper fed them, robins, rabbits, squirrels, a baby deer and one baby raccoon who proceeded to make our life a living hell for 5 years until he mysteriously disappeared.

I've failed a few times, too. But I won't lie to my kids about it. Death, like life, is an education.

One of my mother's sisters -- who lived in the middle of nowhere, Michigan -- could stand on her front porch and call chickadees, which would then land in her extended hand, Snow White-like.

It was cool, and creepy.

Alright there, Mr. Host. I was planning on commending you on your honest, yet gentle explanation, but now I feel like it also needs to be accompanied by a warning to quit making goo-goo eyes at my girlfriend!

But I know what you mean. She's very cute when she smiles. Can you send her home soon?

Dave

Remember when that bird ran into your window that time and you ran out and found it and got a shoebox and punched holes in it and put Kleenex in the bottom of the box and tearfully brought it in to your Dad and said, "Daddy, please fix this little bird. Please?" And your Dad smiled at you and took the shoebox into the other room and came back later and said "I gave him some milk and took him out back and opened the box and he flew away!" and you were so happy?

Yeah, your Dad put him in the garbage. Sorry. And your dog, sent away to the farm to chase bunnies? Also deceased. And your cat that went away to explore the city? Road pizza.

It happens. We do what we can, but nature IS red in tooth and claw. So, the chances of Chuckie the Chickadee making it in the big old wide world without a Mom to show him how to fly and feed him and raise him past the size you see? Not great, as I explained to Jodi.

As for us taking him in and feeding him, the way baby birds eat is the mom comes back after eating bird seed and bugs and the baby bird opens its cute little beak and the mommy bird vomits down his throat. My aim just isn't that good.

All that said? I caught my cat toying with another chickadee chick under our apple tree. I deduced that they were from the same nest, and that concerned adult flying around was the mommy, so I took the bird you see in the picture and carefully set it in the crotch (heehee!) of a branch. It sat there for a while, not moving. Later, when Jodi and I went out, it was gone. Whereabouts unknown. We can tell ourselves that there was a family reunion and everybody is safe and happy (and wiser in the ways of cats). That works for me. And it makes Jodi smile. And if you think a teeny baby chickadee is adorable, you oughta see Jodi when she smiles.

I agree with Mrs. Z.

He wasn't injured, right? So nurse him until he is full grown, and then if he wants to go out in the wild, fine. If not, can't they keep him?

Why was it inevitable death? Why? On TV they always put the bird in a hole-punched shoebox and feed it until it is time to release him back into the wild. Please tell me that lucky bird is nesting right now in one of your fabulous Manolo Blahnik designer shoeboxes being dropper-fed silken tofu by one of your lovely manicured hands.