It was little before six o'clock when I heard the heelers having a fit upstairs, and assumed the wife was home.

Until youngest son comes downstairs.

"It's the door. For you."

Amazing how his job in customer service has expanded his vocabulary skills.

I get upstairs to find a young redhaired girl at the door, with her even younger brother.

And she has a feathered little bundle cupped carefully in her hands.

A nuthatch. A red-breasted nuthatch, to be exact. A young one by the shape of the tail feathers and some of the body feathers.

They found it hopping around in circles, trying to get away. I no longer give the lecture about leaving young birds where they are found. We're late enough into the season that most young are probably on their own. With a fair share having a tough go of it. Especially with the drought this year.

I extend a finger up underneath its breast, and it obligingly climbs from her finger to mine. I carefully examine the wings. Seem to be okay. Bird seems to be alert, although breathing in a panic.

Thank the little redhead. As they step down the stairs, she turns and tells me that as soon as they saw it, they knew they had to bring it here.

Now if I can just be worthy of such confidence.

Warden called me about a dead little bird she had in her hand last Friday. One of four found in a single yard. By her description, my best guess is a Wilson's warbler, which she later confirms from the bird guide. Woman who found them in her yard is concerned about West Nile Virus (not yet documented in our county).

Not likely. First off, most of the passerines are pretty resistant to the virus. Secondly, the virus is a relatively slow killer. The pattern is to find single, scattered dead birds. Not concentrations in one yard. More likely that these were young warblers who sheltered up in a tree, but didn't survive the cold snap we had Thursday night (not quite freezing, but close). That, or a poison of some sort.

But the warden wants confirmation, not my professional opinion, so I give her the name and number of the WNV coordinator for our state.

Who tells her passerines are relatively resistant to the virus, and birds dying from the virus are usually found singly and scattered. He is confident enough that he is not interested in testing her warblers for the virus.

So there.

So, West Nile was not a concern with this little trunk climber. Probably just a youngster who hasn't been feeding itself like it should. Best first First Aid is a dose of warm Karo-syrup water. Hydration and quick energy.

Took to the eyedropper pretty quick, sipping down the sweet water. Once it got to the point of shaking its head, rather than opening the bill to drink, I set it down on the ground beside the stump that holds the squirrel feeder. And tipped the stump up to expose the dozens of sowbugs and millipedes underneath.

Yes, I know, not the standard bill of fare for a nuthatch, but it would starve to death waiting for me to scrape enough little bugs out of treebark to give it a meal.

Little bird charged underneath the stump and quickly ate at least two bugs. And then seemed a little overwhelmed by the squirming mass of arthropods.

When it stepped out to rest on a root, youngest son and I figured meal time was over. And I settled the little bird in on one of the spruces in the garden. With one more helping of Karo-water.

Was still there, snuggled down on the branch when the wife got home an hour later.

Just hope it doesn't get too cold tonight.