Saving a Life

When I was about 16, my little sister babysat her friend's pet ferret while the friend was on vacation. The ferret stayed at our house. His name was Pierre. Pierre the ferret. I was mildly amused by Pierre, despite his aroma.
As my sister was not incredibly attentive to the creature, I went in one evening and gave Pierre a handful of his designated ferret pellets, a food that seemed designed to undergo as little change as possible during the digestive process. I observed Pierre as he began to injest the food, and I noticed that he was moving his jaw up and down, but there was no pellet to be seen. He wasn't taking in any more pellets. He appeared to be choking. He wasn't doing the universal sign for choking as his forelegs were too short to reach his throat.
I was moderately familiar with the principles of first aid, and clever enough to realize that the conventional technique for such an emergency would need to be adjusted. I placed one hand on each side of his little ribcage and pushed them together briefly and sharply.
The pellet was expelled, and Pierre promptly ate it.
THE END