The Story of Pedro and My Special Skill

I thought Pedro was playing a joke, lying so still out there in the dewy grass, just outside of Mr. Anderson rusty red barn, as if he'd croaked. Hopping closer, careful not to raise suspicion about my upright posture, I noticed Pedro's furry chest barely moving, the whiskers 'round his nose barely quivering, and instantly sweat ran down the black streak of my back. I'll have to reveal my special skill to save this darn cat! I've seen it done in movies, in plays, even in books! By ladies in dresses in June, And swindlers in bars among loons, But never, never by a 'coon! So up I hoisted my poor fallen friend And sauntered to the back door of Mr. Anderson's den. Though looking around No one was to be found. So I laid Pedro on the couch and called 911.