Strolling casually through the aisles, Tiny grabbed a cereal box and a bag of sugar. Heading to the next aisle, he got a package of paper towels. Everywhere he went, he had people staring at him. It wasn't every day that you saw an eight year old child shopping at the grocery store all by himself. The young basset hound puppy smirked. They could stare at him all they want. He wasn't gonna let it bother him.

"Okay, I just got the eggs and milk..." Tiny mumbled quietly to himself, checking off the two items on his list. He was almost down with his shopping. He just needed one more thing. Tapping his pen against the edge of his notebook, the kid murmured, "Now, where would I find some fabric softener..." Turning to an older gentleman, he asked politely, "Excuse me sir, where can I find some fabric softener?"

"Oh, it'll be in Aisle 19 young man," the gentleman answered. He did a double take when he realized that he was talking to a child. Ignoring his boggling eyes, Tiny yipped cheerfully, "Thank you sir, have a merry Christmas!" With that, he made his way to Aisle 19. Grabbing the fabric softener and checking it off his list, he headed for the check out area.

"Next," an old English sheepdog woofed. He combed his fur back so he could see. He was shocked to see no one was there. But then he looked down and found a basset hound puppy with a shopping cart full of groceries. Putting the various items up where the sheepdog could reach them, Tiny commented, "Sure is a nice day today, huh?"

"Yeah, uh... I guess so..." the sheepdog muttered. As he began scanning each item and put it in a plastic bag, he cleared his throat and asked, "Young man, are you here by yourself?" Looking up at the old English sheepdog, Tiny replied, "No. My mom is just out in the car, sick with a contagious disease. She can't come into the store."

"Yet you're in here?"

"I'm immune."

"Lucky you."

"Yeah, lucky me."

"Where's your dad?"

"At home sick."

"Brothers?"

"Sick at home too."

"Sisters?"

"Don't have any."

"Any other family members?"

"Sick-"

"At home?"

"Yep."

"Okay kid, that's gonna be sixty seven dollars..." the sheepdog declared. His voice faded though when he noticed the handful of coupons Tiny was holding out towards him. Scanning them, the sheepdog corrected himself, "Twelve dollars and thirty three cents."

"Here you go sir," Tiny declared, handing the sheepdog thirteen dollars. Taking it, the sheepdog gave him some change and murmured, "Merry Christmas little guy." Nodding his head, Tiny wagged his tail and yipped, "You too sir! Thank you!" Taking the plastic bags, he set them down in the little red wagon he had just bought. Waving goodbye to the old sheepdog, he left the grocery store and made his way back home.