Getting Stuck

This story actually happened a month or two ago, but since it's been forever since I've told you a good story about my antics -- and let's face it, it's been forever since Mom's even let me post -- I thought I'd share.

Mom and I were over visiting my favorite neighbor at her house. I like to investigate everything when we're over there. I walk behind her chairs, sneak under her table, shimmy under her bed, and I've even been known to climb onto the first shelf of her bookcases.

My cool neighbor has a chair like this:

That's not a picture of HER chair, of course. That's just a chair I found on the internet to illustrate the story. Pretend that there are doggie toys all over around that chair, though, and it'll look a lot more like my neighbor's house.

Anyway, I was investigating everything, so of course that means I was investigating the chair, too. I shimmied myself between the bottom two rungs in the front of the chair so that I could sniff around underneath it. There was stuff I HAD to check out under there.

And that's when I realized I'd made a fatal error.

I could not get back out from under the chair. Each time I tried to go back between those rungs, the chair would move and it would start to smoosh me. I couldn't move.

I was stuck. Stuck under a chair.

Did Mom have pity on me? Well, yes and no. She laughed for a bit at my predicament. (My neighbor laughed, too, of course.) After laughing at me, did Mom help? NO...instead, she had the audacity to take a picture.

Then she FINALLY lifted up the chair (yes, she had to pick the whole thing up in the air) and I was able to escape my jail cell.

I haven't shimmied under that chair since.