I could try to dress this up to make this seem more heroic on my part, but there’s no need. In this case, there’s no need to embellish, because the truth is good enough: Mike tripped over a speed bump.
I was a few feet ahead of Mike, and I had managed to navigate the treacherous terrain in fine style. But Mike cried out as he stumbled, which got my attention, and I didn’t hesitate (well, I may have instinctively bolted a few feet in the wrong direction, recoiling from Mike’s yell). I whirled in close to Mike’s prone body and bit his nose, just to verify he was still breathing. Then I stood at attention at his side, protecting him while he was lying there in the middle of the road, momentarily stunned and permanently embarrassed for tripping over a speed bump.
Luckily, no cars came along while he was down, and Mike did not act like he was hurt or bleeding. This was a good thing, actually, because my next move was not going to be dragging Mike home to safety. I don’t know what I would have done. Heather was still at work, and the buttons on Mike’s cellphone are too tiny for my paws, even if I could get it out of his pocket. So what would I have done if Mike had stayed down on the ground? Whimper until somebody stopped to examine his body? Bring him a brandy?
Anyway, we can all laugh about it now. Mike tripped over a speed bump and lived. No harm, no foul.