“CAMPER!” I screamed as I noticed the remote control, which could no longer be classified as a working remote control. I went to work yesterday morning expecting it to be a hard day on my puppy because it’d be her first time alone for more than a couple of hours. Well, I was right and unfortunately I have responsibility to take for her misbehavior. See, we knew the remote was a “toy” in Camper’s eyes so we usually put it up high on the counter. Yesterday was a different story. “I’m sorry…that’s my fault. I can’t believe you chewed it this much! Did you eat the plastic? Does your tummy hurt?” I ask her these questions like she’s going to answer me. Instead, she tilts her head, eyes wide, and runs up to me happy to have her Mama home. “Let’s go to the pet store. You need some bones to chew instead of my remote.” Again, no answer, but I assume she was excited because the tail started wagging as soon as I put her leash on and led her to the car.
I pull in the parking lot of Petco, only about five minutes from our house, and put the car in park. Camper sits on me as I drive and because she’s little I’m okay with it. I toss my phone and wallet inside my purse and remove the keys from the ignition. I open the car door, firmly press the lock button, and toss my keys in my purse which sits on my passenger seat. It’s too hard to carry keys while I’m working with a hyper puppy who has noticed we’re at Petco and can no longer keep her cool.
I latch the leash on her and she jumps off my lap and into the parking lot. Struggling to chase after her, I unbuckle my seat belt and hop out of the car after her. I slam the door and immediately stop dead in my tracks. “Oh my gosh. My purse is still on my passenger seat. My keys are in that purse.” PANIC PANIC PANIC.
Thoughts begin forming almost instantaneously as I realize this horrible incident is in fact real. “My husband is in Ohio. My parents live an hour away. They have the spare key to my car…I can just call my Mo-“ PANIC PANIC PANIC. “MY PHONE IS IN THERE TOO! AND MY WALLET! I AM STRANDED AT PETCO WITH NO KEYS, NO WALLET, AND NO PHONE!”
Calm down, Erin. This happens, right? Deep breaths.
I walk into the Petco and start filing up and down the isles trying to talk myself into asking someone to use their phone. Once the cash registers are empty, I walk up and admit to my mistake. A worker hands me the Petco phone and I call my parent’s house. No answer. I call my Mom’s cell phone. No answer. I want to call my dad, but I don’t have his number memorized because his number just changed. Thankfully, and I promise you this is a miracle, I had memorized my husband’s cell number. I call him and explain the situation. He laughs, apologizes quickly for doing that, and tells me it’s going to be okay. “Babe, you just get more time with Camper!” Uh-huh.
My dad is en-route, but remember, he lives an hour away…and also, it’s rush hour. To make this already long story shorter, he shows up two and a half hours later. Yes. I was in that Petco with my puppy for two and a half hours. The workers and I are now on a first name basis. At one point, I stopped roaming aimlessly around the store and just sat at the front and welcomed people to Petco. Camper was like the official store greeter. She loved it.
My dad eventually showed up and because he’s the sweetest man alive, he bought me dinner and came over to hangout for a while. Honestly, it turned out to be an okay evening. However, I’m sure there are much better ways to spend your Thursday.