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.
A Very Merry Greenwich Village and East Village Christmas
-
Christmastime in the city is like no other; rosy cheeks from ice skating at
the many outdoor rinks throughout the city, arms overflowing with a festive
b...
22 hours ago