I've had no luck with the little animals I have found lately. Early this year, while on a stroll with Frida, we stumbled upon a little bird and decided to bring him home. It was very cold and windy, not really the time of the year for little birds to be born, the best thing seemed to be to bring him home. We thought he was doing alright during the first two days, he ate and even flew around the apartment. Then, one morning, he appeared to be sleeping in the shoe box that we adapted as a nest, but he was actually dead. This was such a heartbreak, as he seemed ready for his release in the wild! I really don't know what went wrong, but I can't stop wondering if there was anything else I could have done to help him. Rest in peace, Cachacuaz.