Elka, our seven year old boxer, was out of food so I drove up the road to Covington to the Petsmart. I arrived at 8:30 knowing the store closed at 9. What I didn’t know was that I should have brought my hiking boots.
I grabbed a cart and turned down the first aisle only to find a Petsmart employee sitting on the floor organizing cat and dog shampoos. So I went around her making my way back to the dog foot section. Although the store was still open for another 30 minutes it was clear the restocking crew wanted to get an early jump on the evening as stacks of boxes littered the store. As luck would have it, I only had to move two boxes in order to free the dog food I was after.
But the dog collars were an entirely difference matter. I attempted to make my way over to where the collars were hanging which was in the far back corner. This wasn’t going to be easy because every aisle on the way was littered with stacks of partially open boxes. I shoved boxes to the side as best I could but eventually decided to abandon my cart. I did my best to move boxes out of the way but some where heavy leaving me little choice but to step over and sometimes on them. As I got closer to the collars I realized there was a moat of stacked boxes in front of them. I began moving boxes, stacking them on top each other. I cleared out a path to one area of the collars but still had to stand on a box to reach them on the wall.
I grabbed one of the few collars I could reach and decided it was time to head back to my cart. It was nearing 9 pm by this time and I’m not kidding when I say it took another five minutes to navigate my cart full of dog food around the obstacle course and back to the front of the store where I was greeted by a friendly checker.
Looking back now, I wish I had left the store when my quest for dog food made me feel like I was rat in a maze. Or maybe I was competing in a Survivor-like immunity challenge and just didn’t know it at the time.