Lula is blind/diabetic/senile/elderly/mildly retarded. Any other dog would back out the way they came in. Not her. She's no quitter. She kept barrelling forward until she was jammed in there like a cork.
After assessing the scene and trying to get her to follow the sound of my voice to back out, I figured I would just get the broom and sort of sweep her out. She wouldn't budge. The space is only 6 inches wide at the widest point so there was no way I could fit back in there. I tried laying on top of the hot tub and scooting her with the broom. No luck. And now shes starting to howl. Its about 11:30. Paul calls. He just got my email. I'm panicking at this point and tell him about the stuck dumb ass.
"did you try scooting her out with a broom?" I guess we think alike.
So he says he's on his way home, but he's two hours away. In the mean time, I'll need to drain the hot tub. By myself. In the dark and its freakin freezing. So I start doing that. In my mind I'm trying to invent some kind of dog lasso so I can at least drag her out by one leg. Maybe if I grease her up some, she'll just pop free? So I dump at least 2 cups of olive oil on her back as much of it as I can reach. I try the broom again. She's howling like crazy and Paul calls back.
"someone said try bacon grease"
I told him I had already tried that. He's laughing his ass off. I don't blame him. I would have too, if I wasn''t the one all wet and freezing.
He's still driving. An hour and forty minutes to go. I start bailing water out of the hot tub with a bucket to make the process go faster. I'm hoping that if I can get it empty, I can move it the 1 and 3/4 inches to get her out.
Its about midnight. The asshole neighbor opens his door and screams "what the hell is going on out here?!" I'm not sure if he meant the wailing dog or the crashing of buckets of water. I say all snotty "sorry, my dog is stuck!" He goes back in and slams the door.
I'm trying to keep her quiet. The water is almost gone and this thing must way at least 800 pounds and its not moving an inch. I'm lying on the corner with my hand jammed down the crack petting her head. I try calling my friend Shannon to see if her and her husband can come and help, but shes not picking up her phone. I'm whispering now, so as not to disturb the asshole..."call me back, I need help!"
Lula starts licking the olive oil off my hand and she's at least being quiet. I run inside and get the peanut butter. It's 12:30. Paul keeps calling me to let me know how much longer it will be before he gets home. So I huddle down on the wet cement on the outside edge and let her lick peanut butter off me for an hour until he gets there. By the time he shows up, I'm totally numb and have just been liberally applying peanut butter to the wall. We try moving it together with no luck. Then he comes up with some crazy plan involving leverage, a board and a furniture dolly.
We're standing on the dolly while he jumps on the board to try and wedge it up. It moves an inch. He tries again and the board snaps but the fat ass has managed to free herself and is just standing there looking at us like WE'RE retarded. God damn, I was so relieved. I put her in the shower and scrubbed all the crap off of both of us. I totally hate peanut butter.
But I did get to watch my show after Paul fell asleep at 3 am. Nice.