Me, shopping, forget it. I have a human for such menial tasks. She brings my my tuna fish regularly, so what more could a feline want. Perhaps opposable thumbs to open the tins, although she does it usually with no problem. Of course she does run a little wild now and again and brings home a bag of vitamin pellets, but as long as she has the tuna fish tins somewhere in the bag, there is no problem.
We felines do our shopping outside. It is almost self service. If it lives and breathes then kill it and eat it We do not beat about the paw, we pounce. As time goes on, I do not bother so much. I let the birds do their own thing, and chewing on all those bones exhausts my teeth somewhat. Mrs. Human says I am getting older, but so is she of course. As long as she does some pre chewing on the bits and pieces she drops for me from the table, I do not mind.
In the evening she sits down to her meal. No vitamin pellets of course: the real thing. I sit patiently waiting and watching and then she gets a guilty feeling. It is then that I am suddenly confronted with a choice of ham, even roast beef. The good evenings are when Mr. Human also joins in. I am then confronted with a choice of delicacies. Yes, my human training programme has worked. Who needs to go shopping when life in my realm is a self service shop.