So this happened:
I had put the little bird in a safe place outside and was planning to just let nature do its thing and move on with my life but......yeah. Its cold and damp here today, and I started googling about what delicate little creatures baby birds are, and then I saw yet another cat skulking around my yard and so this happened:
I don't know what my fucking problem is, but clearly I have gone soft/insane. I put him in a shirt lined basket and brought him inside. I mean, look at his grumpy little face!
They can't keep themselves warm, so I filled a sock with rice, microwaved it, and put it in his basket (this is what the crazy bird people blogs told me to do). At this point he had gotten under a layer of shirt, so I think he really was quite chilly. Per the sage advice of Burt Reynolds is My Spirit Guide, I called around and found a lovely lady in Ojai that had the expertise and willingness to take in the poor little bird (Rodney, yeah I named him). Apparently, even if they aren't injured, the bacteria from cat claws will kill them unless they are treated properly, so then this happened:
I packed up Rodney, and boyfriend* and I hit the road to Ojai. He is in the capable hands of an unbelievably nice lady now.
*Poor boyfriend came home on his lunch break expecting to have lunch and was instead greeted by me and this box o' bird. My car is being a creep, so he drove us to the nice bird lady. I don't know what I ever did to gain the favor of this person, he is the best.