They're BAAAAACK

Like the swallows to Capistrano, our swallows have returned to our chimney. Actually, I found out they're swifts, not swallows. A subtle difference probably only noticed by swallows, swifts, and REALLY observant bird watchers. This is a chimney swift:

And this is a swallow:

(Don't those swallows look a little pissed about being mistaken for swifts?!)
So, I was supposed to call the chimney sweep last year after the swallows left their nest and headed on their migratory route to Peru. But, you know what often slips your mind in the day to day chaos of life?
Calling the chimney sweep.
To be fair, if I were, say Mary Poppins, or a Dickensian waif, or maybe even some kind of post-industrial revolution activist, calling the chimney sweep would have been MUCH higher on the list. But when the birds aren't ACTUALLY in the chimney chirping their heads off, it's easy to forget that they'll return. Last week, the mother bird, who apparently is a very clumsy nest builder, (appropriately, she found OUR house) fell down the chimney three times. Yes. Three times. Three times, my kids and/or husband came to me and said, "there's a bird in the house. Go get it."

By the time I get to the bird, it has 1) fallen down a chimney 2) landed in a foreign place where windows masquerade as exits 3) been stared at by small, noisy people and 4) been sniffed by a dog, which probably in bird instinct seems a lot being inspected for dinner. (Fortunately, Cat has not been in the house for these incidents.) The little bird is shaking and when I pick it up, its little heart is on the brink of exploding. I take it outside (check for Cat) and wait for the little critter to emotionally regroup and fly off.
When drunk mama bird finally gets her nest built, she'll lay eggs and then we'll have squawking babies in the chimney. They are so loud, it's like having a chorus of pissed off squeak toys in your chimney. At dusk and dawn when mama feeds them, they flutter and compete for her food. It strongly resembles the chaos on our side of the chimney with yelling and competition for attention.

Which prompts me to hope WE don't disturb the birdies: can't you just see mama bird rolling her eyes? "JESUS, people. I just got these noisy whelps down for a nap and you're down there in the middle of the day raising all kinds of hell. Help a mama out and shut it!" So, when mama fell down the chimney for the final time, I called the chimney sweep. Who is coming today. I'll probably be disappointed when it's a two-toother from the country instead of Dick Van Dyke, but whatevs. BUT here's the real problem. While "researching" for this blog, I came across this:

Chimney Swifts are protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1916. Nests, eggs and birds cannot be removed from chimneys. However, if you see them around your chimney, be sure to close the damper to prevent them from entering your house.Chimney Swifts are fascinating and extremely beneficial birds, even though their sounds are not music to everyone's ears. Two parents and their noisy young will consume more than 12,000 flying insect pests every day. Unfortunately their numbers are in decline due to loss of habitat-first large hollow trees, and now open and large masonry chimneys.

I suspect that the Alabamian two toother is probably pretty soft on the enforcement of the 1916 Migratory Bird Treaty Act, but this leaves me with a bit of a moral dilemma, no?
The moral dilemma has an element of karma thrown in there, too: if I evict drunk mama and her family, will I be attacked by 12,000 more mosquitoes every time I go out to the pool? But, crap. The guy is probably on his way! What to do?! What to do?!? Do I sit and listen to screaming birds for the entire rest of the summer? Do I oust a threatened and beneficial migratory bird species? ACK! I can't take the pressure. I think I should just close the flue and hope for the best. I'm setting up a poll. Vote on the birds' fate. This will have the ancillary benefit of seeing just HOW many readers I've lost since my hiatus.