This afternoon, I was at the adoption center, cleaning out litterboxes. There was a kitten out of her cage, which was okay, because while the interior adoption door (the one that leads to the back of the cages) was open, the exterior door, the one that leads out into the pet store, was shut.
So I'm all, la la la, digging for poop, digging for poop, when I noted that I hadn't seen the kitten for a few minutes. I rounded the corner through the open interior door, and the exterior door ... was wide open.
Oh sh*t oh sh*t oh shi*t I'm F*CKED.
I quickly scanned the outside of the adoption area, grateful that it's far away from the doors to the outside. No kitten. I started scanning down the aisles. No kitten. I was heading off to grab a manager to put out an alert when a nearby shopper, evidently seeing me tearing around wild-eyed, said, "I think one of your cats is under this display of cat litter."
Oh thank GOD.
I immediately hit the floor, scanning under the raised display. No kitten. Next display. No kitten. Next was the - oh, CRAP, the doors to the warehouse area. Had she escaped into the warehouse area? Because there's a loading dock to the outside there.
"Oops! Here it is!", said the shopper, as the kitten emerged from under yet ANOTHER display, about fifteen yards away.
"Grab it!" I yelled. "PLEASE!"
Oh bless her heart, she reached down and scooped that kitten up, as I just about collapsed. I ran over, collected the cat, and thanked the shopper profusely.
Oh sweet Jeezus my heart was in my throat.
One (almost) got away. Thankfully, she is safe and sound at the adoption center tonight, right where she's supposed to be.
Her name is Dodger. Ha.