The Saga of Socks
Chapter 2: Violins
The two humans debated over when to encourage the young kitten to go outside. The owner of the property indicated that the couple were only permitted to have a cat if its primary purpose was to be a mouser for the property, which meant the kitten would eventually need to be outside at all times. While the humans mulled over the young feline’s timetable, they fell to referring to him as “Socks” due to his white paws. The name unintentionally stuck.
“Socks is still just a kitten, we should keep him inside for another month,” Maggie told Thomas one day.
“A month?” Thomas raised his eyebrows. “That’s a little too long, it’s better to have him outside as soon as we can. He can’t get too comfortable in here; he’ll learn to expect he belongs inside.”
Maggie harrumphed and tickled Socks under his chin. Socks took a swipe at her.
“Quit, that!” Socks meowed. “Besides, Thomas is right. I belong outside, on adventures!”
Maggie sighed, “One more week?”
Thomas nodded in agreement. “One more week.” Thomas walked to the front door, where his work jacket hung.
“What do you have planned this afternoon?” Maggie asked.
“Gonna go check on the Rockland Field.” Thomas tugged on his jacket. “Dad said one of the handlines might be broken, I might be able to fix it. What about you?”
“I don’t have to go in this weekend, since we managed to finish our samples before the end of Friday. But I do have Layla coming over today to practice the duet for church next week.”
“Ah, I forgot about that. What will you do with Socks?” Thomas asked, lacing up his boots. Socks hopped off the couch to sniff one of Thomas’s boots.
“I’ll pop him in the bathroom. I don’t want him bothering her while we practice.” Maggie got off the couch and walked toward Thomas.
Socks perked up his ears. Practice? What on earth would Maggie be practicing that she thought it necessary to lock Socks in the bathroom? It sounded pretty suspicious.
“He won’t enjoy that,” said Thomas. He stood up and Maggie gave him a peck on the cheek.
“See you later,” she waved him out the door.
The crunch of tires rolling on the dirt and gravel, and Socks was left alone with Maggie.
Socks usually enjoyed Saturdays with Thomas and Maggie; weekends seemed to be the only time he ever saw them. As much as he disliked Maggie’s prattling at times, it was far worse being alone all week long. Both humans worked long hours during the week, with Thomas coming home covered head to toe in dirt and mud. Maggie came home late too, reeking of scents both familiar and unfamiliar to Socks. She spoke a lot about soil and plants, which was the only bit he understood. She also blabbered on and on about chemistry, sodium hydroxide, titrations, and nitrites. Thankfully, both she and Thomas showered promptly when they returned home, so Socks never had to endure the nasty smells Maggie brought home for long.
Socks hopped up on the couch, watching the door for the arrival of Layla. Before he knew it, he was half asleep. A car pulling up and a knock at the front door jolted Socks fully awake again.
“Hello, Layla!” said Maggie, opening the door. “Come in, come in.”
Leaving the mysterious Layla at the door, Maggie scooped up Socks off the cushions and carried him under her arm to the bathroom. She placed his litter box and food and water dishes inside with him.
“Sorry about this,” she apologized, flipping on the light in the bathroom, “but I can’t have you crawling all over us while we rehearse.”
She shut the door behind her. Socks clawed and attacked the bathmat, pulling some of the threads free. The mat wouldn’t do at all for continuing his a nap, it was not much better than the carpet.
Why did she move me in here? I was just fine on the couch.
At least Maggie left Socks in the bathroom with food. He toddled over to the dish and nibbled on his kibble. The bathroom echoed with his crunching and munching.
Screech, screech, squawk!
Socks jerked his head up and puffed up his tail. What on earth was that racket? He listened a little closer.
It sounded like the music humans listened to sometimes, but louder and more piercing. The sound pierced Sock’s sensitive ears.
“I need to put a stop to this,” said Socks.
He trotted over to the door and appraised it, there was no way for him to open it. Curse those humans and their opposable thumbs! He pushed on the door with his front paws, just in case Maggie hadn’t latched it properly. No such luck.
Socks sniffed the bottom of the door and the large crack beneath. He swatted under the crack and found he could stick his entire foreleg underneath it.
The music suddenly stopped. “That’s pretty good,” said Maggie. “Let’s try this last section one more time.”
The noise restarted, to Sock’s dismay. He definitely needed to escape and investigate this noise. If he could fit his entire foreleg under the door, would his head fit?
He tested the door, cautiously poking his nose under it, and then shoving his entire head to the other side. Now the tricky part, his hindquarters! Using his front paws, he scootched his body forward, wriggling his back legs and tail to smoosh through. He couldn’t get as good a grip on the floor as he would have liked, as it was tiled on both sides of the door. But, that tile did make it easier for his body to slide through.
Just one more push! He squirmed a bit more, then popped free out on the other side.
“Now, let’s go see what this is all about.”
Toddling through the kitchen with tail held high, he could see Maggie and Layla in the living room with wooden instruments in their hands. Maggie and Thomas had a photo of one in the living room. Socks paused in the kitchen, watching as the humans continued their noise, oblivious to his presence. What had Maggie referred to it as? A “violence?”
Socks twitched his whiskers, no that wasn’t the right word. Violence is like fighting.
He inched closer into the living room, annoyed Maggie hadn’t noticed him.
“Hey, I’m here!” he meowed.
Maggie looked over, surprised. “How did you get here?” she asked, but didn’t stop playing, neither did Layla.
Socks picked up his pace, stopping only once he was at Maggie’s feet.
“Quit that noise,” he said.
“Hang on, little guy,” said Maggie.
Socks’s fur bristled, he’d had enough. He grabbed ahold of her pantleg and drew himself up onto his back legs. Maggie and Layla kept playing. There was only one thing left to do; he climbed up her leg.
Maggie broke off abruptly and laughed when Socks had climbed as high as her back. “I don’t think Socks likes the violin very much!”
Violin. Yes, that was the word Socks was trying to recall. He now sat perched on Maggie’s shoulder, happy that his ploy stopped her and Layla’s rehearsal.
Layla laughed, too. “I think we’ve fit enough preparation in, we’ll do just fine next week.”
“I think you’re right,” Maggie agreed. “See you next week?”
“Yes, that will be fine.” Layla packed away her violin and bid farewell to Maggie.
“Finally!” said Socks after Layla drove away. “Now I can get in a good catnap.” He trotted to the couch and crawled up it. He curled up on one of the armrests, preparing for his slumber.
Maggie must have understood him, because she too flopped onto the couch with a fluffy blanket, her head beneath the armrest Socks lay on. “Come here, Socks. Let’s fit in a little bit of shuteye before Thomas gets home.” She reached up tickled Socks behind the ears.
Sometimes she’s not all bad, Socks thought as he drifted to sleep.