When I was a child my father used to catch frogs and bring them home to me for an evening before letting them go the next day (SPOILER ALERT: I soon realized why prolonged visits were not sustainable). I remember looking forward to the white bucket he'd leave for me in the backyard, filled with new playmates.
One day, I decided these creatures deserved environmental enrichment and that a white bucket of water was no place for a wildling. I scooped one lucky contender up and placed him in a salad bowl (sorry fam, we still eat out of this bowl) filling it with all sorts of hand-picked leaves, berries and twigs that I could find (is it possible to pick without hands though?). I was called in for dinner, and left buddy in his new home on a picnic bench for a short break. When I returned, he was lifeless. Something that I couldn't (and still can't) describe that once glowed within him was gone.
So often we think we know what is best for someone, some thing, some animal, when we don't know anything at all. Our lack of wisdom and/or experience can sometimes cause more harm than our original intention--to do the opposite.
A wise man once asked me, "When a dog or a cat approaches you, what do you do? When you hold a bird in the palm of your hand, what do you feel?"
When a dog or cat approaches you, you touch it. When you hold a live bird (or frog) in your hand, you feel something--connected, beautiful, special...whatever you want to call it. These things happen and you can't explain why or how, but you just know this is what you do.