Panic in the Pet Store

There is no feeling in the world like the fear and panic when you can't find your child. It's a breathless, trembling fear that makes you feel as if everything is happening too fast and in slow motion all at once. My then four-year-old daughter was good at causing that fear and panic. Megan loved to hide the minute I was distracted in a store. She would always find a spot where she could see me, but I couldn't see her. I remember one instance in a pet supply store. We were looking for sturdy chew toys for our new Labrador, Taffy. Aside from the teenage boy behind the checkout counter, using his elbows and hands as a tripod for his chin, Megan and I were the only ones in the store. We were chatty and silly; the boy looked like he had just lost a bet. I got completely engrossed in the large selection of chew toys, fetch balls, and stuffed animals - why on earth would you give a dog a stuffed animal? - that I didn't realize that my daughter was no longer in the aisle. The panic didn't start right away; after all, we were the only ones in the store. She was probably in the cat toy aisle, hoping in all the feathery cuteness of it all, I would realize how foolish I was to keep her cat-less.

I came around the corner with the words, "No way, Jose" at the ready. No Megan. I called out to her. No answer. I kept calling and looking, aisle after aisle, my steps getting quicker with each one. No answer.

Okay, now I'm panicking.

"Could you please help me find my little girl?" I demanded of the clerk. Why was he just sitting there watching me freak out?

Maybe she went outside. God, I hope she didn't leave the store! I raced outside and looked around. No Megan. I shouted. Silence. I looked up the sidewalk and saw people coming in and out of the other stores in the strip. Did that man take her? Is she in someone's car? Now I was trembling, sweating, fighting the urge to drop in a heap and cry. I went back into the store and forced my voice to stop shaking.

"Megan, if you can hear me, you better answer RIGHT NOW!"

There was no stopping the tears. Just as I was about to tell the clueless clerk to call the police, I heard a very small, faint, voice.

"I'm up here, Mama."

I froze. "Up where?"

"Up here."

I looked up. Where could "up" be in a pet supply store?

"Up," as it turned out, was at the top of a large scaffold, piled nearly to the ceiling with 40 pound bags of dog food.

"Get down here right now!" I thought better of it. "No! Don't move!"

I whipped around to the clerk. I'm sure my eyes said it all: "Get my daughter DOWN FROM THERE!" The young man shuffled over and pushed the stairs-on-wheels over to the stack of kibble bags. Without a word (smart boy), he grabbed my child and carried her down. I hugged her, crying, not knowing whether to kiss her or shake the crap out of her.