And with that promise (or lie depending on who's talking and who's listening) I managed to get the cat into the box with a couple of gentle shoves to his butt and carry all his 17 pounds down to the vet.
He was no dummy.
And when it was over and I let him out of the box into the hallway while I searched for my keys, he ran straight to the front door and meowed loud and clear that he had had enough he wanted to be home and there better be chicken because yes, it did hurt.
Looking Backwards - The Thursday Post From The 365 Bars Blog! - This Week,
January 11, 2010 - Bar Number One: Otto’s Shrunken Head
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*Okay, we’re doing a little adjustment here, I was doing posts from the
MBIP past on Thursdays to free up a little time for me to work on my
upcoming bo...
1 hour ago
2 comments:
Poor Jupiter.
I have scars from all the times I've had to coax my cat into the box...funny, though, how the cat loves to hop right in when the vet visit is over.
I hope Jupiter is feeling ok.
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