The bird

Tara and Cassidy are our resident tree huggers. They want to save and keep everything. When we go to the beach we come home with buckets of fish or sand crabs. They stay on the lanai till the fish go belly up or the crabs disappear. Tara took a bucket to her room once. I found the bucket, empty, and my child playing in front of her big, multi-story, Barbie house.
"Tara, where is the crab?"
"It wanted to play in my Barbie house."
"Tara, where is the crab now?"
"I don't know. (looking sad, almost in tears) I moved the steps and heard a big crunch. I think I smooshed it."
Buckets of creatures are no longer allowed in the house.
Yesterday they found a bird that couldn't fly.
"Can we keep it?"
"Absolutely not!! And do not touch it!" I've had a bird. Been there done that. And wild birds are nasty and carry nasty germs and stuff.
They disappeared outside.
Today Kevin came home for lunch. He walked in laughing and told me to come outside and look. There we found a perfectly made, very realistic looking bird's nest. In it was the bird. Dead.
"Tara, did you make this bird's nest?"
"Nope. I found it in the bush where we find all the bird's nests. We tried to get the bird in it all night. This morning we found it and wanted it to be comfortable and be in it's real house. We didn't touch it though. We moved it with rocks."
Can't argue with that logic. They didn't touch it either. I just wonder if the whole moving it with rocks thing is what actually killed it. I'm curious what they will bring home next. I guess it is only fair. I know I brought home my fair share of critters.