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This is a true story.
Anyone who knows me knows I love my cats. Also, anyone who's seen me knows I am a busty women. This combination was a problem today.
I got home and checked on my darlings as per normal, but couldn't find Dave the Kitten. I looked all over. Even checked the closets that I knew I hadn't opened. Called and called. Finely I heard his tiny meow. It seemed to be coming from my bedroom so I checked again for the third time. No Dave but the pitiful little meow was definitely louder. Opened all the dresser drawers. No Dave. Moved everything out from under the bed. No Dave. Checked all the closet shelves. No Dave.He sounded so close but I couldn't find him
Panicked! Maybe he had somehow slipped out and was crying under the window! Flew outside. "Dave you had better not be outside or your getting your butt spanked right after I hug and kiss on you"
No Dave.
Back to the bedroom. He sounded like he was in the bed but how? I wondered if he had fell down between the mattress and the headboard and was trapped. No Dave, but what was that? A tiny spot on the underside of the box spring is moving! I shone the flashlight up through the material covering the bottom of the box spring and there was Dave, or at least his outline. How in the world?
There is a little tear in the middle. He had climbed thru and then couldn't find it to climb back out. I tried to get him to follow the light back to the tear but he just meowed and moved toward my voice instead. Looks like I'll have to show him some other way.
I tried to crawl under the bed. I did this all the time as a child. Unfortunately I developed quite an impressive, shall we say addition, since then. Eventually I lay flat on my back and painfully managed to squish myself past the bedrail. Reaching up I could touch Dave thru the fabric and coaxed him to follow my fingers. So there we go, me sliding along under the bed, Dave matching me till we reached the tear. Dave poked his little head thru and happily meowed when he saw me and then leaped down. Dave was finely free!
I shimmied my way back to the edge and came out like a breach birth, feet first, my hips and stomach easily following. Then comes the problem.
Somehow my breast seem to be one directional. I can't get past. Like Dave I am stuck under the bed. Unlike Dave there is no one to rescue me. Back all the way under the bed I go. Like a driver making a 12 point turn I manage to get myself pointed toward the foot of the bed and try to exit that way. Again no success. Looking out I can see Dave and the other cats watching me. I don't even have to imagine what they are thinking because their expressions say it all. (Other cat people know exactly what I'm talking about) No help from that corner, Lassie is not fetching help for Timmy this time.
After another 12 point turn I am back where I started but this time I go head first. I had slid under the bed head first so it would make sense that I could back out the same way and it worked. At least it should have. Once again foiled by my boobs. At this point I'm starting to wonder how long it will take until someone comes looking for me. When I don't show up for work tomorrow? All they will do is call me. A lot of good that would do me. If I had my phone to answer them then I'd have called a friend for help. I resolved to never go on another trip without my trusty phone in my hand, even if the trip is in my own house. Yep from now on that phone will be a permanent attachment to my hand.
One last thing to try. Maneuvering till I could get a firm grip on the bed board I could only hope all the stories about desperation boosting strength were true. The angle was awkward, the cats were laughing, and by now I really needed to pee so I heaved up with all my strength. The bed lifted just a tiny amount but it was enough for me to fantically slide under and escape the horrible bed trap.
Both Dave and I have resolved to never again suffer such trauma. From now on I'll be sleeping on my couch and that bed is now on craigslist if anyone is interested in a bargain.