Baby bird

It's ok - there's a happy ending.
I found a baby bird on our path. I have no experience with this sort of thing so popped gloves on and carefully put it in a tray with some water to see if it was injured. Seemed ok, but its eyes were not open,there was no noise and its prospects did not seem good. I anxiously texted friends and called family and animal rescue centres and got conflicting advice. By midnight it was tucked up on a woolly Work In Progress cardigan piece (advice to wrap in wool seemed odd to me - what if the yarn got wrapped around its neck?!) and covered with paper towels and a little fluff from an out-of-use birdhouse and a leaf, inside a cake carrier and with a warmed-up Bagpuss toy for heat. I really wanted to stay up all night feeding it (dog food - acquired from next door neighbours- from the end of a match, as you ask) and dripping water from a vitamin dropper mainly over rather than into its beak. Because by now it had opened its eyes and cheeped at me. My hormones were at peak levels - going from feeding this bird to feeding my own human baby and fearing for what our girls (5.5y and nearly 2) would feel if the bird didn't make it. Yes, I was prepared to lie, big style. The happy ending is that it made it through the night and was safely delivered to a rescue centre -it's a sparrow! and it will be reared with a couple of sparrows at exactly the same stage. We will get a text picture tomorrow and we can visit in the school holidays next week (we were advised to visit soon so that it will be recognisable as feathers will grow soon). HURRAH! We are Never Getting a Pet.