It did a few tumbles and landed "teets up" and deathly still not 2 feet from my front bumper. In tact but lifeless, I couldn't bear the thought of it's little body being squashed like a bug on the busy street, so I put my car in park, retrieved an old beach towel from the back of my car, and went to pick it up and place it at the curb.
As I picked it up it began to gurggle and on closer inspection I saw that it was foaming and bleeding from the mouth and had one eye sort of popped out of the socket. "Now what do I do?" I thought, I couldn't just leave it so I put it in the back seat of my car and immediately called my daughter to help find a vet to take it to who could mercifully facilitate it's trip to the promised land. As she made the calls I started to franticly drive, hoping to find one nearby.
As I drove I checked in the back seat and to my surprise it was coming to and trying to upright itself. "Oh my God!" I told my daughter, "find a vet fast, I don't want it to die in my car!" The next thing I new it was opening it's eyes and dazedly looking at me and it's surroundings. "Oh jeez! I implored my daughter, help me find a vet!"
Multiple phone calls and rejections later, there I was at my vet in Newport Beach carrying it in, having broken most land speed records and traffic rules to get there.
