(“Great, meet ya’ at my Rover.”
“Roger that, Mate”)
I get in the driver seat of the pickup and drive away. Miles pulls out right behind me. We make a quick stop at the scene of my Rover demise. I try backing out again. Even though a couple of hours has passed, the ground is still too wet to allow my front tires enough traction. Miles pulls into position, hooks up his winch to my back bumper, and easily pulls me clear of the mud hole. I ask Benjamin to drive the borrowed pickup back to our camp.
“Gentlemen,” I say as I turn to get back in the Rover, ” I recommend we go directly to our camp so we can set-up the holding cage and unload this cat before she wakes. Dr. Longo is on the way.