Athletic finish.
In a period of my teens, a group of us would often hang around outside a friends house which happened to be by a busy 'B' road.

(I'll save the story of our public rendition of YMCA displayed there for another question)

One night, our attention had been caught by a stray dog on the other side of the road. It seemed keen to join / visit our group and stood on the verge, tentatively watching for a sign of encouragement. I couldn't be sure, but doubt that any encouragement or sign of welcoming was apparent due to the other notable event of an ambulance doing the full-on blues & twos up the road.

Why the fuck do animals have absolutely no road sense? Dogs and cats are reasonably intelligent creatures and have had long enough to get used to the idea! Predictably, the dog chose the wrong moment to cross the road. It was hit by the ambulance at (estimated) 60 to 70 mph and oddly 'flicked' up from the rear to perform what seemed to be a triple somersault with half turn before landing in a heap on the tarmac.

Of course the ambulance didn't stop, presumably for the human emergency taking precidence. We carried the dog to the side of the road and I stroked its head until it finally closed its terrified eyes. A call was made and an hour or so later, someone came to collect it - a streetsweeper. The ladies in our group, deeply emotional through a cocktail of sympathy and cheap cider, needed to be consoled after the the bungling binman picked the poor animal up by the hind legs and literally flung it into the back of his bin wagon, grinning.

The grin may have been due to the fact that I was warming my hands in the trousers of a certain young lady of poor reputation. Yes, the same ones I'd just been stroking a dead dog with. Her reputation didn't improve.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Thu 6 Mar 2008, 9:48, Reply)