But it was still there on my way back, neck erect, peering about hopelessly with its eyes on stalks for somewhere cool and damp to crawl to. It had drawn a star-shape on the pavement in slime, as it had tried to head in every direction looking for respite.
I couldn't bear it. I got a leaf from someone's garden and wrapped it up and put it on the soil in the shade.
What a hypocrite: I kill them with horrid poisons when they destroy the garden but I feel for the buggers when they are not in a marauding pack.
Bit like teenagers, I suppose.