I realized this morning my Labrador retriever, Rainy is almost out of her medication. Feelings of unease washed over me as I picked up the phone to ask the vet to call this med into the local Costco. Costco is the only pharmacy that will fill this particular pet medication. The trouble I feel brewing is multi-layered as my bitch doesn’t give two thoughts about her condition of urinary incontinence while she is sleeping on my bed. When Rainy is medicated there is no issue. However, without the meds and having a dog this size, the result of Rainy unmediated is nothing less than a natural disaster.

Driving to Costco is the easy part. However, as I get closer I can feel the tension start to build. I have never been a member of this store and I am not a fan. The sight of the parking lot brings on a bit of irritation. I am perpetually befuddled as how this place can always be packed full because people must buy in bulk. Prior to COVID19, I had serious issues making myself buy more than a 4 pack of toilet paper. Now I either can’t find any or I am forced to buy at least 16 rolls at one time! I’m troubled every time I bear hug my bulk pack of newly purchased TP through the threshold of my home. Buying in bulk and my personality are not friends.

I walk past the greeter with a chip on my shoulder and tell her I am going to the pharmacy when I have no membership card to show her. I feel she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t care enough to attach any type of emotion to the interaction.  The walk from the door to the pharmacy is a long one and thankfully this gives me enough time to fantasize (in mental slow motion) about toppling the shelves over as I walk by them. Fortunately, this lead to another fantasy within a fantasy of me winning 30 minutes alone inside the store to ransack it without the stealing and penalty, leavening with nothing but a smile. 

I make my way to the pharmacy line to wait. I have a quick chat with the pharmacist about the meds for Rainy, which always makes me want to ask the druggist if she would like to talk directly to my dog, but I don’t this time. However, one day I might bring in my dog so when this drug dispenser wants to consult with me about the possible side effects. I will force her to look Rainy in the eyes and explain them to her. I actually don’t believe the side effects are anything concerning, but Costco staff do not seem to care or submit to their understanding that this medication is for my dog.  It’s a silly policy they follow and I would like to draw attention to the absurdity of the practice of making me consult with the pharmacist about my pet medication.  I always wonder if they expect me to sit down with Rainy and go over the possible side effects when I get home. What if Rainy has questions, I can’t answer? However, for today I turn quickly on my heels and stroll back through this spectacle of gluttonous American spending that hurts my head, heart and eyes. Perhaps, someday I will understand all the rage of shopping at Costco and will leave mine in the parking lot. I walk out to my car with medications in hand knowing that I have avoided the floods from Tropical Storm Rainy for the next few months, and in the moment I am grateful for Costco on this fine afternoon.