Invaders in the attic

Yesterday afternoon, my husband discovered two baby birds stumbling down our attic steps. The children rejoiced -- we have quite a history of rescuing birds from the jaws of our deadly feline -- Snowman. These two must have fallen from a nest I cannot locate.

I rushed off to buy them worms from our local 7-11, only to find that dry dog food soaked in water is much more appropriate. They are pitiful little things, throwing open their beaks and thrusting their heads high for me to feed them. Yellow beaks clamping shut when they are full.

I've called animal friends, rehab experts and others who say the comical yellow beak identifies them as starlings, and therefore, invaders. They terrorize the natives. Puffs of feathers on their heads. Pink skin under their scraggly wings. Junk birds. The twists of conservation rear their head in my household.

One rehab person tells me that only 1% of wildlife survives to reach adulthood. Loki, my seven years old, mulls over that number, as do I.

Loki is passionate about animals. He wants to be the next Charles Darwin, but he worries about giving up afternoons at the pool to feed the birds every 45 minutes. He admits this with tears in his eyes and the statement that no one ever really dies. I say they'll live on in us, in what they taught us. He says, if we release in them in the woods, there's a chance they'll live. I look skeptical. He says, we'll never know -- a small, small chance, and I have to agree.

I cry for help on Craigslist and Freecycle. Many amateurs offer assistance. A woman calls. She's insistent. Her mother rehabbed birds. She'll find us a professional. A wildlife center an hour and a half away. She could manage it, but will I take them?

Traffic, three kids. I'd rather feed them here for several days. I grew up in the country where animals rapidly lived and died.

I tell her that I can't take them to the center. She'll have to pick them up. And perhaps a better person then me, less daunted by road trips, she's agrees to fetch them in the morning. So the babies might one day fly.

Loki associates wildlife centers with television, and imagines that our birds will be in a nature video, our family hailed as heroes.

Another job well done by the good guys -- rescuing the bad guys.