Chessie chased his ball under my gigantic, five million pound bed, wedging himself in so tight that he couldn't get out, and only his big head was protruding.
In the rescue efforts, I tried using my usually herculean emergency reserve muscles, in my panic, I used the wrong ones, and now I have a pulled muscle in my back. Chessie is nonplussed and is currently shoving the ball into my lap and whining at an unusually high pitch (I might have been whining and crying along with him, but you'd have to ask Gaige for confirmation). Ouch, just fucking ouch!
Oh, and yes, after I couldn't get up immediately, while laying on my back, I was able to maneuver the mattresses up off of the frame (lifting the weight off of him), using my legs and feet...So, he is free!
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