By this point I was out of the car and scooping said cat out the path of the on-coming traffic. All well and good. But what do you do with the cat afterwards?
He wasn't blessed with a collar so there was no way of telling where he came from. He was smelly, skinny and rather shabby on the eye. He looked in need of a break. I guess that's where Fate stepped in.
He's currently sitting in our garage on a make-shift bed of velvet curtains. He's devoured three saucers of milk and a small amount of food and he's finally settling down to sleep.
Our friendly neighbourhood vet has just given him the once-over. It turns out that he's pretty damn old as cats go and unfortunately he's in a bad way; poor kid.
So, tonight he gets to sleep-over. Tomorrow... well, who knows.