One bright summers day while I was walking from my grandmother's house to my apartment, I spotted a bird struggling to fly in the fenced-in backyard of strangers home. I promptly jumped the fence and grabbed the little bird. Upon closer inspection, I could see that it had been born with a deformity. Its head was completely twisted around to face the back of its body and no amount of untwisting would correct the problem. The little bird was almost full grown with a nearly complete set of adult feathers. It had likely been pushed from the nest and was being taught how to fly by its mother when I happened to notice them haphazardly fluttering about. As I walked with the little dove tucked between my hands, the mother bird wasn't far behind. She darted from tree to tree to keep up with us and then finally in one last heart-wrenching ditch effort to save her baby she landed just feet from us and began to flop around in an attempt to entice me to drop her baby for bigger better pry. In a flash, a giant hawk swooped down, grabbed the mother bird and flew off with lunch.
Moral of the story: When you think you are saving something you could actually be setting off a tragic sequence of events that will lead to something else demise. Leave nature alone, it will sort itself out