Peep. It's baby bird season at Greenwood Wildlife Rehab Center

I scooped up some scrap hay at a barn where I kept my horse and noticed a dark spot in the midst of the pale green. Between my hands and the hay was a frail body no bigger than my thumb, a mix of black fuzz and feather. I looked up to the 40-foot rafters where I knew there was a barn swallow nest. This little one might have made a too-early attempt to fly or took a tumble after sibling scuffle.

At least the baby bird made a soft landing on the loose hay. But it made a hard landing on my heart. What could I do? There was no way to return it to the nest. I couldn't imagine leaving the bird where it was with two barn cats that lived there.

Peep. The yellow beak opened. Now I was really on the emotional hook. I had nothing to offer other than a deep sense of responsibility toward this little life that had unexpectedly fallen into mine.

I laid down the hay and bird, took off my turquoise ball cap, cupped the little one and gently placed it inside. I folded in the edges so it wouldn't come out of my makeshift nest.

I knew that Greenwood Wildlife Rehabilitation Center, just east of Lyons, was the bird's best chance. They care for orphaned and injured wildlife with the goal of returning the creatures to the wild. But it was late evening and they were closed. A recording recommended keeping animals warm and in a dark, quiet place. My cap would have to do.

The message also referred people to after-hours vet clinics. I put the little ball-cap bird on my lap for warmth and headed to a clinic. Every now and then I felt the baby squirming. I was relieved that it was alive and strong enough to move a bit.

I took the bird inside and a vet tech appeared in purple scrubs. I explained what I had found. She took a peek and, to my shock, offered to euthanize the bird for me. I'm sure I gave her a pained look. I know there is no shortage of barn swallows and, generally, it's best to let nature take its course. But this was not an abstract situation, this was an individual, a precious, vulnerable life that I had personally discovered. I came here to help it live, not die. Peep.

It's not the first time that I've encountered injured wildlife in Boulder County over the years. There was the squirrel that was hit by a car and couldn't move it's back legs to get out of the middle of the road. There were the injured baby bunnies that my dog dug up in our compost pile. I took them all to Greenwood. Not all made it. Their injuries were too severe. But this baby bird didn't seem injured, it was just in a precarious situation.

Only after seeing the look of horror in my eyes, did the vet tech tell me about a different clinic that was licensed to care for wildlife.

Caring for wild animals is very different than caring for domestic pets. It's a specialized field. Greenwood is currently the only rehabilitation center between Pueblo and Wyoming that takes care of a variety of wild species, according to Executive Director Linda Tyler. She said that four other facilities have closed over the past six years for a variety of reasons.

It was a number of years ago that I found the baby bird in the barn. Greenwood's website is much more extensive now than it was then, offering detailed information on what to do if you find an animal that appears to be orphaned or injured.

The facility is open 365 days a year from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tyler said that's when they have trained veterinarians and staff that can do an evaluation and create a treatment plan. Otherwise, the facility depends on volunteers and seasonal workers to feed and care for the animals during the day and night.

Last year, Greenwood took in nearly 3200 animals, meaning thousands of people found themselves in a situation like I did. If that happens to you, Greenwood wants you to call before you bring an animal to the facility. They will assess your specific situation and give advice on what to do.

Not all animals need to come in for care, especially babies that may appear to be orphaned. This year alone, Greenwood helped people reunite 80 baby racoons with their mothers. They hadn't been abandoned after all. Tyler said there are a variety of reasons the parents may not be around. Parents often leave their young to go hunting, rabbit moms only visit the nest twice a day, even a baby bird that falls out of a nest might still be getting fed by its parents. "They're so much better off with Mom. We're great, but they're better," Tyler said.

But bad things can and do happen, resulting in injuries or death. A wild parent might get eaten by a predator or run over, or, in my case, a baby bird can fall out of a nest into a barn with cats. If you find an animal in need and Greenwood is not open, check the detailed instructions on the website.

Tyler says that if you end up with an animal that needs care, there are things you can do until the facility opens, "Try not to panic. A few hours at a house won't make a difference." Keep the animal warm and in a safe, quiet place and don't give it food or water, which can be hard to resist when there is a pleading, open beak. Even a well-meaning dropper of water can be dangerous because it's easy to get fluid in an animal's lungs. "We lose more animals by being misfed than just getting them here the next day," Tyler said.

If the animal needs to go to the facility and you need to get to work, Greenwood has transport volunteers who can pick it up.

Spring and early summer are the busiest time of year. Baby squirrels come first, then foxes, raccoons and birds. This is just the beginning of baby bird season. At the end of last week, there were 155 birds and 32 mammals on site. By mid-June, Tyler says they'll be caring for about 450 animals, mostly birds, including waterfowl.

Greenwood no longer recommends taking animals to vet clinics since there are so few that are licensed to handle wildlife. But back when I found the bird, I ended up at a clinic that warmly accepted the baby and promised to get it to Greenwood in the morning. I never learned the ultimate fate of the baby bird, but I left feeling hopeful that the swallow would be cared for in a place where every little peep is heard and answered.