The animals without supermarkets

"I've been meaning to get her a new collar for ages," I say, popping a baby pink affair with white padding down on the counter.

Judi, the owner of my local pet shop, eyes me dubiously, before politely answering:"Ahhhhh that's nice. What colour is she?"

"Tabby," I reply.

"Oh." Judi is clearly trying to decide whether I might, in fact, be a tad colour blind.

"It's okay," I tell her. "I know it doesn't really match. But it looks like the most comfortable one - it's padded."

"Ah, that's alright then." smiles Judi. "Some people make some really odd clothing decisions when it comes to their animals, but at the end of the day a collar for a cat is at least necessary and practical."

Hmmmmmm. I've never actually bought Pepper a pink collar before - I usually go for nice sensible colours. I may have told Judi it was a comfort decision, but in truth I'm actually not quite sure what came over me. I think I might have to blame my friend Christina, who is currently pregnant with twins, for filling my ears with baby talk last week on our log cabin mini-break, not to mention dragging me into a load of shops in York to admire baby clothes. Clearly I've subconsciously decided to indulge my own maternal instinct by forcing a baby-pink collar on my cat.

I do love having a natter with Judi though. She runs Hasland Pet Supplies, the brilliant local pet shop just a two-minute walk from our house, and no matter what time of day I go in there's always at least one other fellow customer and animal-lover to chat to.

Judi actively encourages pets into the shop, and keeps a box of dog biscuits under the counter for her canine customers.

Since qutting the supermarkets in January I've been getting all our pet supplies from this shop, and over the past few months I've taken advice on what to do with a smelly cat (Pepper had been sprayed by a randy tom - the answer was, wash her!) and showed a fellow shopper a neat trick to stop her six-month-old lab puppy jumping up with muddy paws.

We go through a fair few pet bits and bobs in our house, including cat food, hay, bedding and two different types of litter. This is so that our girls (cat and rabbit) know which loo is theirs - otherwise things get a bit messy and gross.

Before taking my vow of supermarket celibacy I bought our pet supplies from a mixture of Tesco and Pets at Home. But without really thinking about it I've found I've now also phased out Pets at Home (which I guess is a sort of animal-themed supermarket) in favour of the local pet shop.

Judi stocks a really wide range of stuff and it's all really reasonably priced. Little individual pots of Sheba (Pepper is a picky eater) are 50p, which is cheaper than most other places, and the sacks of hay are pretty much given away at £2.99. Smaller bags go for £3.59 at Pets at Home.

It turns out that Judi and I have quite a bit in common (apart from taste in cat collars). We both have partners called Neil, and both of our Neils like to sneak into the supermarkets when they think we're not looking.

Judi, on the other hand, tends to avoid the supermarkets and shop local, so was impressed when I told her about my challenge.

She's really passionate about the service she offers, and will happily order in special items for people, or stock up on things she knows her customers like when they are on offer at the suppliers.

When we think about shopping at the supermarkets, we tend to think in terms of food. But in reality these one-stop megastores are increasingly monopolising everything, from pet food to homeware, clothes and even garden equipment.

So as well as supporting the butchers and the bakers, you can also make a difference by favouring your local candlestick maker - so to speak.