I went to the big pet store on Saturday, mostly because I needed more fish food, but also because sometimes it’s nice just to walk around and look at all the different animals. It can be a little much sometimes, with so many people, but I don’t mind it much if I just stick to myself. I like seeing the puppies and kittens through the glass, and sometimes the little lizards are pretty neat too. It makes the afternoon feel less empty, even if I usually just go home afterwards.
Right when I got in, there was a little bit of a hubbub near the special coffee counter. It’s a fancy coffee place right inside the pet store, which always seemed a bit odd to me, but I guess people like their coffee while they shop for dog biscuits. There was a young man, probably in his early twenties, standing with his chest puffed out a bit. He had on really expensive-looking sneakers and a jacket that probably cost more than my rent. He was holding a phone to his ear, but he wasn’t talking into it much. Instead, he kept trying to squeeze in front of everyone who was patiently waiting in line for their coffee. He sort of pushed his way forward a little, then stopped, then tried again. He acted like the line was invisible to him, or maybe that it just didn’t apply. I heard a lady behind him make a soft huffing noise, but she didn’t say anything out loud. The young man just kept making these little shifty moves, like he thought if he moved fast enough, no one would notice he was trying to jump ahead. It made me feel a bit squirmy inside, seeing him just ignore everyone else like that. I just kept walking past, trying not to make eye contact. It’s not my business, really, but it still puts a little wrinkle in your day when you see someone act like that.
My fish food was in the back, near the big tanks, and I figured I’d get it and then maybe swing by the cat section just to see the fancy toys. The fish food line was a bit shorter than the coffee one, thankfully. As I got closer, I saw a lady already at the counter, talking to the worker. She had one of those hard plastic cat carriers, but it wasn’t on the floor. It was carefully placed on a little stool she seemed to have brought with her, and the worker was looking at it with a slightly confused expression. Inside, I could just make out a fluffy cat. Its name, I found out later, was Lord Fluffington the Third, and this lady, who had a very neat, short haircut and a very serious face, was quite particular about him. One unusual thing about her, I quickly noticed, was that she wore a tiny, sparkly tiara on her head, even in the pet store. Not a big, flashy one, just a small, silver one that looked like it belonged on a little doll. It wasn’t fancy, just… there.
She was speaking to the worker, a young man who looked like he was still in high school, in a very clear, deliberate voice. She wasn’t yelling, but her words felt like they had extra weight. She was explaining that Lord Fluffington the Third absolutely, under no circumstances, could eat anything but the ‘Organic Salmon Serenity’ pate, specifically the one from the ‘Azure Coast’ line. The problem was, the worker was trying to tell her they were out. Completely out. No more in the back, no more coming in until next week. He looked a little nervous. The lady’s face got a bit tighter, but she still didn’t raise her voice. She just said that it was unacceptable. Lord Fluffington the Third had a very sensitive digestive system, she explained, and any deviation from his prescribed diet would cause him immense distress. She patted the carrier gently, and I imagined the cat inside was probably just sleeping, completely unaware of the drama.
She then said something about how she had been a loyal customer for years and how it was a basic expectation that her cat’s specialized nutritional needs would be met at all times. She expected them to “make an exception” or “find a solution.” The worker, bless his heart, just blinked. He said he understood, but his computer showed zero. He even offered to check the nearby sister stores, but she waved her hand dismissively. She wasn’t interested in driving all over town. She believed the food should just be there for her, because Lord Fluffington needed it, and his needs, she implied, were more important than anything else going on.
The line behind me was growing. I could feel a bit of heat rising in my face, not because I was mad, but because I just wanted things to be calm and quiet. I don’t like it when people make a big fuss. I started to think, maybe there was a way to help. I looked at the cat carrier on the stool, then at the lady, then at the worker’s confused face. I remembered my Aunt Sally once told me that sometimes people just need to think they came up with the idea themselves. It was a bit confusing, but I thought I’d try it.
I took a step forward, trying to look helpful but not pushy. I didn’t want to make the lady even more upset. I spoke a little quietly, thinking out loud more than talking directly to her. “Oh, that’s a tough spot,” I said, mostly to myself but loud enough for them to hear. “My old neighbor had a cat with a really picky stomach, too. They always said it was a real head-scratcher when the usual food wasn’t around. What they did, just so their cat didn’t get all upset, was they started calling ahead for a special order. They said it made them feel really smart, like they were one step ahead. It just kind of… made sure the food was there when they got there, even if it wasn’t on the shelf. Just thinking about how important it is for special pets like Lord Fluffington.”
The lady with the tiara paused. She looked at me for a moment, then back at the worker, then back at the cat carrier. Her tight expression softened just a tiny bit. She seemed to be thinking. The worker just looked at me with wide eyes, probably wondering what I was doing. After a few seconds, the lady straightened up a little. She turned to the worker and said, “You know what? That is an excellent idea. For Lord Fluffington’s sake, I suppose I should consider setting up a standing special order. It would be quite proactive of me, wouldn’t it? Ensuring his dietary needs are met with foresight.” She seemed to be turning it over in her mind, as if the thought had just dawned on her. The worker just nodded quickly, looking relieved.
Just as the worker started to explain how she could set up a special order, a ridiculously loud, ear-splitting fire alarm suddenly went off. It wasn’t a gentle beep, but a full-on, piercing screech that made everyone jump. I instinctively clapped my hands over my ears. People started looking around, some clutching their chests, others moving towards the exit. The noise was so disorienting, and I could feel my heart thumping. I heard someone shout that it was probably just a drill, or maybe someone burned popcorn in the break room, but the sound just kept going, vibrating through the whole store. The lady with the tiara looked startled, then annoyed, and then she was trying to calm Lord Fluffington, who had started to meow loudly from inside his carrier. The worker at the counter was now yelling over the alarm, trying to direct people. I couldn’t really hear anything clearly anymore, and it was all a bit too much for me.
The sudden noise and all the commotion made my head feel fuzzy. I remembered I had another errand to run across town, something about picking up a package. It felt like a good excuse to just get out of there. I quickly grabbed my fish food, paid the worker who was still looking flustered, and hurried towards the exit, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. I didn’t see what happened with the lady and her cat, or if she actually went through with the special order. The last I saw, she was still standing by the counter, trying to shush Lord Fluffington, while the alarm just kept blaring. The young man from the coffee line was nowhere to be seen, probably having successfully snuck out or found his coffee in the chaos.
I got home, and the quiet was a huge relief. But even though I was safe in my apartment, I couldn’t stop thinking about the lady with the tiara and her special cat food. I kept wondering if I’d see her again, maybe at the grocery store, or even at the library. The thought of running into her, and her expecting me to have more “smart ideas” for Lord Fluffington, makes me feel a little knot in my stomach. I just hope she doesn’t live in my neighborhood.
