C'est la vie

While sitting on the back porch on this beautiful day, I heard a frantic rustling underneath my porch. When I went down to investigate, I found a little bird struggling to move in a rock pile. Before I could think about what I was doing I had two oven mitts on trying to grab him so that I could put him in a box and rescue him. It was an immediate reaction, because when I was a kid, I used to find hurt birds and little animals all the time. In my childhood memories, my mom would always nurse it back to health; feeding it with a little eye dropper and splinting the wing or leg. It would be all better in a week or so and when I got home from pre-k she would say that it had flown away. We did it! We saved the poor defenseless bird!
So once I got him in the box, I realized that I had no idea what I was doing. I called my mom but no answer, so I turned to the internets for help.
One suggestion was to let it out because it's spring time so it might not be hurt but just a baby learning to fly. I did that, and the little jerk immediately got caught between two tight fences. After 45 min of carefully moving the fence bindings around him I get a call back from my mom. "Kathrine" she said, "all of those birds you brought home eventually died. I just pretended that they got better so that you wouldn't be heartbroken."
......................................................................................"OH"
I guess I will just let him be then.

C'est la vie.