I’ve left my home, the one with the ants in the freezer (those are all gone now) and the loud 80s music next door every Tuesday. Last night I wheeled assorted bags, pillows, appliances, and a stuffed bunny over to my temporary lodgings Chez Grandparents in one of these:

I’m crazy about this cart (note: mine is white, way classier than black). I wanted one for years and now I’ve got one. Last night’s use was especially satisfying. People in cars stared at me and my two weeks’ worth of personal belongings. I smiled back, secure in my undeniable coolness.

But I’m not as cool as a man I used to see on the bus and around town in North Adams, Massachusetts. His cart had a special application: wheeling around an ancient crippled poodle. He’d lift his poodle from the cart outside the cafe on Main Street and place it on the sidewalk, where the poor thing dragged itself around by its front legs while he drank coffee with his buddies. I used to get misty-eyed if I saw this happening at a certain time of the month.

That guy was the first but not the last person I’ve seen using a granny cart to transport an ancient crippled poodle. I hope I have a camera on me the next time I spot someone rolling along with their ACP. Pictures of such a duo would justify the entire existence of this blog.