Another **!!*§* baby bird

What's worse than a dead baby bird? A half dead baby bird. Which this would have been had Lulu caught it and presented me with it. I was doing my chi gung walking when I heard its unmistakable, persistent cheeping in the flower bed, and, not being in a good mood, I groaned in despair at yet another achingly vulnerable baby animal. But then I realised that if I caught it, I could put it outside the garden, on the other side of the 10 foot wall, and it would be safe from Lulu. It was warm in my hand, and when I opened my hand so it could escape, it stayed for a while, perched on my fingers, feeling quite safe. I think it may be a nuthatch, there was a blueness under its fluff.

I felt cheerful after it, the wee bird restored me to myself.