The Saga of Socks

Socks, the vicious little kitten from “Gordon Pumpkin Smith the Second,” stars in his own online mini-stories. Check in regularly to see what’s new in his world!

The Saga of Socks

By Kay M. Bates

Chapter One: The Couple

“Oh! They’re so cute!” the woman’s obnoxious voice squealed.

The brown tabby kitten peeked through an eye, trying to get a glimpse at the lady. A quiet, reserved man stood at her side.

“Look! This one is orange, he’s a dead-ringer for Gordon. And see this little black one? Too cute!” she continued, ignoring the man’s silence. She chattered and clucked like a chicken, appraising each of the many kittens in the cage. “They’re all so adorable, I want to take all of them home with us.”

The brown tabby flicked his tail disapprovingly and curled tighter into his white paws, this woman had no respect for naptime. The kitten closed his eyes, wanting some shut-eye, regardless of her prattling.

“What about this one?” the man spoke. His voice was surprisingly deep and strong.

“This guy, the sleeping one?” the lady’s voice came closer. Tiger-stripes opened his eyes as tiny slits, only just enough to see her.

The woman’s smiling face now loomed over him, her eyes alight with excitement. She considered him and glanced back at the man.

“Yes. We can get this one,” she said.

An associate at the feed store walked by. The man stopped him, asking for assistance. The shop worker lifted the striped kitten out of the cage. Irritated his nap had been disturbed, he allowed himself to be removed and placed into a cardboard box. Small holes near the top of the box allowed some light, but the box was mostly dark inside. I would be easy to fall asleep again in here.

The couple chatted with the cashier, but the kitten couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the shuffle of the box moving. The till dinged open and the receipt printer whirled. Tiger-stripes felt his box being lifted. The woman’s shrill voice continued as the kitten jostled within the box. The tabby flattened his ears and hunkered down as the box rocked to and fro.

Surely, I’m not being adopted? he wondered in dismay. If this were true, it meant his new home would be with this chatter-chicken woman. At least the man is quiet. Two chatty humans would have been utterly unbearable.

The sound of a car door opening perked the cat’s ears. Yes, they were entering a vehicle. An engine started, and the box began to sway uncomfortably. The tabby kitten’s stomach somersaulted, this car ride was making him sick.

“Let me out!” he screamed. He pawed the sides of the box frantically.

“Oh, the little guy is scared!” the woman cooed. “Maybe we should let him out?”

“I don’t know, Maggie, he might scratch you,” said the man.

“Nonsense. He’ll be fine.”

The top of the box opened, and the kitten blinked in the sudden light. He scrambled his way out of the box and landed in Maggie’s lap.

“It’s about time!” he spat. “Let me out of here!”

Maggie tried in vain to keep the furry rascal in her lap, but the spry kitten fought his way onto the dashboard of the car.

“Is it safe for him to be so close to the windshield?” The man sounded worried.

“I think it’s okay, Thomas,” Maggie said, “so as long as he doesn’t block your view. He’s so small, I’m not sure how he could.”

The kitten bristled. Small? I’ll show her! He hopped off of the dash, looking for a way to wreak havoc on this ignorant couple.

He couldn’t find anyway to intimidate the woman. He puffed his fur and hissed, but that only seemed to confirm her concern that he was scared. She snatched him up and placed him in her lap again, petting his head and cooing over what a “cute little guy” he was.

Tiger-stripes reluctantly settled into Maggie’s lap, digging his pine-needle claws into her leg. Annoyingly, she didn’t seem to care. He wished his claws were stronger, so he could really give this lady a piece of his mind. Sunlight shone through the windows. He squinted his eyes, eventually closing them as the car loped clumsily down the road.

The car’s slowing speed woke the kitten a while later, as the vehicle turned down a long, dirt driveway. The car stopped at a humble-looking house, the man turned the keys in the ignition to cut the engine.

Thomas lifted the kitten out of Maggie’s lap and stuck him back into the box. Tiger stripes growled his disapproval.

“Don’t worry, it’s only until we get you inside,” Maggie cooed.

That tone is getting on my nerves. The kitten batted the sides of the box.

The couple left the car, Maggie carrying the box. Tiger-stripes heard Thomas fumbling with keys to open the door. He heard it creak open.

“Welcome home!” Maggie said and plopped the kitten onto the living room carpet, just as Thomas closed the door behind them.

The kitten had never been inside a human house before. His mama cat and cat-siblings used to live in a barn. After the barn, the farmer moved the kittens to the feed store for adoption, as there were already too many cats on the farm.

Thomas and Maggie followed the kitten as he explored the home. He trotted the premises, inspecting its various rooms and hiding places.

As soon as he came out of the box, tiger-stripes felt a pang of disappointment. The carpet wasn’t as soft as he imagined it would be, the threads were coarse and very short. He tested it out with his claws, hoping he’d assessed the carpet incorrectly.

Scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch.

Nope, his first guess was right. He might as well be digging his claws into sandpaper.

Sunshine poured through a large window, but it was too high for him to see the yard surrounding the house. Toddling into the next room, he smelled food; this must be the kitchen. Tall cupboards and shelving were crammed into every inch of the kitchen. The shelving the countertops had no cupboards and instead were covered with a makeshift curtain. The little kitten slipped under it, finding plates and bowls hidden behind it, but no food. The pesky humans must have hidden it up high in one of the cupboards.

The home had five interior doors. Three of them were bedrooms, all lined up one after the other between the living room and kitchen. The home had no real hallways to speak of. In the back of the house, tiger-stripes discovered a small laundry room and a bathroom. The kitten returned to the biggest bedroom and settled onto the large bed. Maggie and Thomas, still following the kitten on his explorations sat on the bed next to him.

“What should we name him?” Maggie asked.

“Not sure,” Thomas shrugged. “We’ll give it a few days, and then we’ll decide.”

Chapter Two: 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.

Chapter Three

The Tomcat

“Don’t worry, Socks will be fine,” Thomas said.

“Are you sure? He’s still so small.” Maggie bit her lip.

“Not as small as a few weeks ago. The barn kittens at the dairy are way smaller than he is.”

Maggie nodded, slowly. “I suppose you’re right.”

Socks sat at the door with his chest puffed out. The humans planned to let him outside today. If all went well, the humans would let him spend the night in the shop, too!

Maggie crouched down and pet Socks on the head. “Stay safe,” she said as Socks batted at her hand.

Thomas opened the door and Socks sprinted out before either of the humans had a chance to change their mind. He heard the door click shut behind him. He knew it would open again soon, as Maggie and Thomas needed to get to work. Socks decided to be far from the house by then.

Pausing a moment to peer around, Socks realized Thomas and Maggie lived in the middle of a cornfield. The tall stalks rustled in the morning breeze and the sweet smell of earth surrounded the small homestead. The dirt driveway circled around the entire house and shop, and on one side of the home was a small, unfenced yard with a bit of grass. The crisp autumn air tickled Sock’s whiskers.

“Moo!” a loud bellow sounded from the west side of the house. Socks perked up his ears, there must be cow here!

Socks crept through the grass surrounding the house until he came around to the back of it. There, along the other side of the clearing, he spotted a small barn. That must be where the lumbering cattle were calling from! Socks leapt off the yard and onto the dirt path leading to the cowshed, eager to see the cows up close.

Cows lived on Socks’s old farm, but his mama cat never let him too close to them. She said they were too dangerous.

“She’s not here to stop me now,” Socks meowed, nearly to the barn.

A large, furry, and ratty animal leapt in front of Socks, just as he was approaching the barn. It knocked him roughly to the ground.

“Hey!” Socks puffed up his tail and hissed, while flailing on his back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the large beast hissed back; it was a fellow cat.

Standing and shaking the dust off himself, Socks got a better look at his assailant. The cream and grey cat standing before him was missing a ragged chunk of his left ear.

“I’m going to see the cows,” said Socks.

“Oh, no you don’t!” the large cat blocked his way. “No one gets in to see the cows, not on my watch.”

Socks flicked his tail.

“What makes you think you can stop me?” Socks challenged. He took a few steps more forward.

Quicker than lightning, the old cat lashed out at Socks, catching his left eye. Socks’s eye stung terribly, but he wasn’t ready to back down from this fight. He lunged at the tomcat, sinking his claws into his enemy’s shoulder.

“Quit that!” the old cat tried to bat Socks off him, but Sock dug in tighter.

The large animal rolled on the ground, pinning Socks down into the dirt. Socks squirmed, but couldn’t get free.

“I’m supposed to protect the cows,” said the old cat. “So, you understand, I can’t just let anyone in. But how about we call a truce? Maybe let me get to know you a little better, and then maybe someday I’ll take you in to see the cows?”

Socks squeaked out his reply, like a little mouse. “Deal.”

The old cat stood up and Socks released his grip.

“My name is Rex,” said the tomcat.

“I’m Socks.” He felt his eye gingerly with a paw. It seemed Rex had split his eyelid right down the middle. “Did you have to swipe at me so bad?”

“You needed to know I meant business,” said Rex, closing his own eyes lazily. “You need to learn not to mess with cats bigger and stronger than you.”

Socks sniffed, hopefully this new injury wouldn’t keep him inside tonight. He could see Maggie making a huge fuss over this.

“Where do you live?” asked Rex, coming closer to Socks and sniffing him.

“The house by the shop, up that way.” Socks looked over toward Thomas and Maggie’s place. “I’m going to be a mouser for the humans living there.”

“Ah! A noble profession,” said Rex. “Have you hunted mice before?”

“No,” admitted Socks. “But how hard can it be?”

Rex gave him a Cheshire cat grin. “It may be harder than you think, especially if no one has ever shown you how before.”

Feigning unconcern, Socks started licking his tail. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“Whatever you say, just know you may need my help learning. I’m here if you need me.”

Eye still smarting, Socks turned and darted back to the humans’ abode. The nerve of some cats!

I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need help with anything. Socks’s bitter thoughts swirled in his mind like a buzzing wasps’ nest. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t even see the dog, until it was too late.

The large, imposing beast leaped out in front of Socks, snarling and barking. Socks backpedaled as best he could, but tripped over his own four paws and sprawled out on the ground.

“Get away from me!” Socks hissed, scrambling back up again. The black-and-white dog loomed closer, not intimidated by Socks’s warning. Socks’s heart thudded in his chest, there was no way he could take on this massive dog alone.

Rex appeared between Socks and the dog faster than the blink of an eye. Socks was surprised the old cat could move so quick. “You heard him, get!” Rex swiped at the dog’s snout.

The dog yelped, bounded back and growled. After some hesitation, she decided it wasn’t worth attacking a cat that would fight back. She slunk back down the dirt driveway.

Rex nudged Socks with a paw. “Are you alright? That was a close call.”

“Who was that dog?” Socks asked.

“That would be Darla,” Rex sniffed in disdain. “She is completely bonkers. She chases all the cats staying around the cow barns. Darla belongs to the farmers down the road and they let her roam free like the other dogs, but they really ought to rein her in. She’s dangerous and doesn’t listen much to reason.”

“She sure is different from the dog on my old farm,” Socks agreed. “Old Louis never bothered us like that. He usually kept an eye out for us while Mama was hunting field mice.”

The two cats sat in silence a moment before making their way back to Thomas and Maggie’s property.

“We should be safe up here,” said Rex, leaping up onto an old tractor beside the shop.

Socks followed the old cat.

Maybe I’m going to need some more help after all, Socks thought as the two cats spent the late morning and into the afternoon cat-napping in the sun.

Chapter Four

The Shop

Thomas opened the front door, stomping his muddy boots on the doormat, as Socks strutted into the living room. “Uh-oh, you’re not gonna like it,” Thomas said, glancing back over his shoulder.

“I’m not going to like what?” Maggie stepped out of the master bedroom, putting on a pair of earrings. “What’s going on?”

“Look at this.” Thomas scooped up Socks and brought him to Maggie.

Socks peered up at Maggie, avoiding blinking, trying to downplay his injured eyelid.

It was no use.

“Oh, no!” wailed Maggie. “What are we going to do? What if it gets infected?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much; it doesn’t look that bad.” Thomas brought the kitten closer to his face for a better inspection. “He did get all his shots, too.”

Socks squirmed at the memory of those, he did not appreciate being poked and prodded with needles.

“You really think it’s okay?” Maggie asked, gently tugging Socks out of Thomas’s hands. She tried to snuggle Socks, but he wriggled his way out of her grasp and crawled up on her shoulder.

Socks meowed, “Of course it’s okay! I’m fine.”

Thomas laughed. “If he’s got the energy to climb up you like that, I’m sure he’s feeling alright.”

Socks purred; Thomas understood him.

“What about our trip?” asked Maggie.

“What about it?” Thomas seemed unconcerned.

“We can’t keep him outside alone when we leave. The forecast says it might snow.”

Snow? This was a new word to Socks, he wanted to know what it was. He batted at Maggie’s earring.

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes.” Thomas waved a hand, “The point is, I think he’s okay to spend the night outside in the shop tonight. Right?”

“I guess.” Maggie bit her lip.

“Trust me, Socks will be fine.” Thomas rubbed Socks behind the ear, making the kitten purr.

When sundown came, Maggie and Thomas carried Socks into the shop through the back door. The shop, attached to the house, was very large and had looming rafters high above the humans’ heads. Thomas showed Socks a place with cat kibble and water, inside a small wooden structure, that Socks could climb into for protection from the cold and elements. Socks sniffed at the blanket inside the little box, he surmised Maggie had placed it there, it had her scent all over it. The shop’s large door was half-open, exposing the whole building to the chilly wind.

“Isn’t there any way for us to close that?” asked Maggie, walking over to the wide opening.

“No, the landlords say the door is broken. The best we can do is this.” Thomas nudged the cat-fort with the toe of his boot.

“What about the coyotes?”

“They shouldn’t get too close,” Thomas pet Socks’s head reassuringly. “They don’t like getting right up to human structures too much.”

Maggie’s brows knitted together, but she said nothing else. Sighing, she knelt down and tickled Socks under his chin. He took a swipe at her.

“Stay out of trouble,” she said.

With that, Thomas and Maggie returned to the house, closing the door with a small click behind them.

Socks trotted to the entryway of the shop, sitting on the very edge to the outside world. He took a deep breath, taking in the night air and its delicious scents. His whiskers twitched and his tail swished a little, adjusting to the darkness around him.

“I see they’re letting you stay out tonight,” a voice said. Out of the shadows, Rex came lumbering over to Socks.

“Thomas insisted,” Socks said.

“There are coyotes here,” Rex licked his crooked tail. “I’ll show you the best way to avoid them, come with me.” Rex stood and walked deep into the shop.

Curious, Socks followed.

Coming to the back corner, the one farthest from the house, Rex rubbed against the wooden leg of a workbench.

“Can you climb this?” he asked.

Socks inspected the bench, took in its height, and puffed up his chest. “Of course, I can.”

Socks hopped up onto the leg, digging his little claws as deep into the wood as he could. He scampered up, slipped close to the top, but ultimately made it to the top of the bench.

Rex leaped up onto the work bench, clearing the edge with a grace Socks admired greatly.

I hope I can do that someday!

“Now,” Rex circled Socks, sizing him up for the next task. “Do you see how the rafters up above have plywood between some of them?”

Socks looked up. “Yes.”

“The humans do that so they can store stuff there. We’re going to climb the rest of our way up, all the way to the rafters. You’ll be safe there the rest of the night. While the coyotes usually don’t come into the shop, it does sometimes happen. You don’t want to be on the ground when it does.”

Socks shivered a little at the thought.

“It will also be warmer up there. Your little fort may be well and good for sunlight hours, but your best option at night is to get high where heat gets trapped during the day.”

Socks twitched his ears, nervous, but ready to begin.

“Okay, follow me!” Rex grabbed hold of the crisscrossing exposed beams on the wall the shop and climbed them like a ladder.

Socks had never climbed so high before, his tail quivered. But he didn’t want to seem like a chicken in front of the old tom. Socks grabbed hold of the nearest beam and crawled up.

He felt exhausted by the time he reached the top and nearly fell off while trying to pull himself over the ledge of the plywood at the very top. With his teeth, Rex grabbed Socks by the scruff of his neck and heaved him safely over.

“You’ll get used to it; it’s really tough climbing so high the first time around.” Rex butted his head kindly against Socks’s nose.

Rex sat down on one end of the plywood plank, facing Socks. “Now then,” he said, “tell me about your humans.”

“There are only two of them, and they aren’t around so much during the day,” said Socks. “But when they are home, they are okay, as far as humans go.”

“Only okay?” asked Rex.

“They feed and pet me, but the woman, Maggie, fusses too much. Not just over me, I’ve seen her do it to Thomas, too,” said Socks.

“And the man?”

“Thomas is friendly and knows I like being pet behind the ears, and not under the chin, as Maggie always tries to do. He smells like dirt and animals and plants.”

“What does Maggie smell like?” Rex licked his tail.

“She smells weird, kind of like the stuff she cleans the house with, but stronger. She uses a lot of words I’ve never heard of before.” Socks stretched, with his front paws out in front of him and his hindquarters up in the air.

“Such as?” Rex paused in his bathing.

“The newest one I heard her say was ‘acetic acid.’”

“Intriguing.” Rex began washing behind his ears. “Your Maggie might be a chemist or scientist, saying words like that. Thomas most likely works on a farm nearby.”

“What about your family?” asked Socks, trying to be polite. He sat at attention, ready to listen to Rex’s story.

Rex smiled his cat grin, “I don’t have a family, not in the way you do. I’m allowed shelter in this shop and in the cow barn, just so long as I catch mice and keep hooligans out of the cow barn. The farmer and his wife don’t feed me and tend to me the way your humans do.”

“I see.” The thought made Socks a little sad. He curled up in a tiny ball, his eyes growing heavy, a small distance from Rex.

As Socks drifted off, Rex continued his cat-bath.

The last thing Socks heard was coyotes yipping in the distance.