Shopping Cart Series: A Soft Spot and Achilles Heel

Beloved pet shopping cart having dinner. (Photo courtesy of nolastname)

When my owner first brought me home and nursed me back to health, I must have been very young or very injured, because I can’t remember a thing about it.

She doesn’t want to tell me exactly how I came to be her beloved pet, since she doesn’t want to damage my fragile ego. It doesn’t really matter to me. I’m happy that I live in Sheepshead Bay in a house, and not on the street.

I love the way my owner takes care of me, giving me lots of attention, fresh food and water. And although, she named me Achilles — because her love for me makes her heart melt and brings her to her weakest point — I really do thank her every time I feel my wheels rolling.

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