Page 47 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

I open my mouth to deny it but don’t want to instigate an argument, so I simply turn and leave.

When I get to Dot’s kennel, my heart breaks to find it empty and the information card gone. Of course, I’m happy for Dot and thankful I came to spend some extra time with her during the week, but I’ll miss that sweet soul.

After finishing the kennels on patio Z, I hit the cat cave before stopping to take care of the reptile and rodent cages. We only have two reptiles—an iguana and an anole. I love the lizards. Their prehistoric-ness intrigues me, and they are easy to care for. When I get to the rabbit cage, I take the time to cuddle the furry little rodent. In my experience, it’s unusual for a rabbit to like to be held. Perhaps it’s just the rabbits who end up in the shelter, but I suspect timidity is a rabbit thing. This little girl loves to be cradled. I’m surprised it hasn’t been adopted yet because of that, but rabbits aren’t a popular adoption at the shelter.

Dylan finds me just as I’m finishing up the last hamster cage. “All of our morning chores are done already. What do we do next?”

“Have you ever worked retail?” I ask.

“Not unless you consider running a register at a service station retail.”

I consider it. “We can work with that. Follow me.”

When we get into the lobby, Chloe is helping a family. The youngest daughter is already cuddling their new kitten, one of Bullseye’s brothers. They have already removed the colored collar from his neck, so I don’t know which brother it is, but I love to see pets go to their new homes.

I turn my attention to Dylan and point to the wall of pet products. “We need to reorganize this. When the staff gets busy, they’ll display an item wherever there’s a blank spot, so cat collars might end up next to the waste bags, like this.”

Dylan squints at the two items. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Waste bags are a dog product.”

“Oh, waste bag. Got it.”

I hold my hands out to the long wall of products and cringe. “It helps a customer to know what the product is when it’s displayed properly. They’re more likely to buy a chew toy if it’s displayed next to the leash they need to buy, anyway.”

There aren’t too many items in the wrong place, so it only takes a short while for us to get the products organized.

When we’re done, Dylan stands back and scans the wall with a curled lip. “It still looks so jumbled.”

I back up until I’m standing next to him. “You’re right. It looks messy or something.”

“Why don’t we try leaving a clear break between the different animal sections and then line up the hooks vertically so it’s more appealing to the eye.”

I bite my lip and consider his suggestion. “I’m not sure we have enough space to leave a break between all the animals.” Using my hands to show the size of each section, I say, “For example, dog would go here, cat here, rabbit here, and there’s no room for reptile.”

“Why don’t we group everything not dog or cat in an “others” category then? We don’t have a lot of products for the rodents and reptiles, do we?” Dylan studies the wall, looking for items that might fit into the “others” category. He points at each and counts. “Seven. That will be two rows.”

“Let’s try it. But let’s put the “others” category up first, since that will be farthest from the register. We want the more common dog and cat products most visible.”

“Smart thinking.” Dylan removes the products that fit in "others." “I assume we want dog products closest to the register. Dogs are the most popular, right?”

Chloe, who has finished with the adoptive family, says, “We adopt out more cats per year. But, Dylan, you’re onto something, because people buy more pet accessories for their dogs than they do their cats. So, yes, the dog supplies should go closest to the register.”

Dylan isn’t gloating, but I see a pleased smirk on his face. I consider teasing him, but that could send a mixed message about what kind of relationship I want to have and so far, today has been far less awkward than I expected.

I decide to remove the cat products from the wall. We can slide the dog items over when everything else has been removed.

Chloe surveys our work in progress. “Thanks so much for doing this. It’s one of those things we never get around to. Let me know if you need anything.”

We work in a comfortable silence until Dylan sneezes.

“There’s so much dust on some of these packages.” He holds up a crinkly plastic bag containing a small net to be suctioned to the inside of a lizard cage.

“Yeah, we should probably take the opportunity to wipe these off, too. I’ll grab some rags.”

I return with two rags, handing one to Dylan as he sits back on his haunches, staring at the wall. Because he’s distracted, he overreaches, and his fingers brush mine. I’m frustrated by the flutter that enlivens my innards. It was great when I was ‘embracing the crush’; now the reaction just makes me sad.

“I think I got all of the “others” products.” Luckily, he seems unaware of my inner conflict. “It’s hard to see. No wonder this stuff doesn’t sell well. This wall is overwhelming.”

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