Mom said "Home Depot" and I heard "adventure." She grabbed my leash and her yellow bag and off we went to the big orange place on 23rd Street.
The cart situation was immediate. Mom tried to lift me in and I helped by jumping at exactly the wrong moment. She stumbled backward and said some words I'm not supposed to repeat. The nice employee in the orange apron came over and said something about "teamwork" while I wagged apologetically.
Once I was in, though - this was the life. Rolling through aisles that smelled like sawdust and metal and something chemical I couldn't identify. Mom pushed me past hammers and lightbulbs and really interesting pipes I wanted to investigate. People kept stopping to stare and I tried to look professional. Like I belonged in a cart. Like this was my job.
The best part was the checkout line. The cashier asked Mom if I was her "shopping assistant" and Mom said yes, absolutely, I was supervising the whole operation. The lady behind us asked if she could take a picture because apparently I looked "too dignified for words." I sat up straighter. Dignity was exactly what I was going for.
Mom bought some boring wall thing and a new plant light. I supervised the bag loading. We rolled to the car like a team.
The pigeon was on the fire escape when we got home. Still there. Still staring. But now I had Home Depot experience on my resume. I felt more qualified to handle whatever standoff was coming.


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