The Saga of Socks
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.