This chick died today. On July 11 my wife found him small and helpless, lying in the grass near our house.
We couldn’t leave him to die. We took him home and fed him with insects (our new pet turned out to be a Pacific swift). He got stronger, feathered, got beautiful strong wings and a tail, started to open his eyes. His chirping was beautiful every morning. It seems to me that he even started to recognize us by our voices. It seemed like he was getting better and we were going to release him to fly away to the warm places with his relatives in autumn. Yesterday he even tried to fly. And today he just fell asleep and did not wake up.

Forgive us, Birdie, we couldn't help you. We couldn’t do everything right. I didn't even give you the name and called you just “Birdie”. I hope the month you’ve spent with us was a good one for you.
Let eternity be good for you, friend.