Socks Read Online Free PDF Page A

Aunt Cassie had an answer for everything.
    Socks endured the rumpling the best he could, but the minute the big hands released him, he crouched close to the floor and glared in pure hatred at Uncle Walter. Then, looking anxiously from right to left and back again, he fled from the living room to his hideaway under the bed. There he remained among the dust fluffs, sneezing occasionally and trying to put his fur in order in a space so low that he could not sit up. Everything was wrong. He hated Uncle Walter and distrusted Mike. Aunt Cassie did not admire him. Worn out by the events of the afternoon and with his fur in disarray,Socks fell asleep. Things were sure to be better at suppertime.
    Even though Socks slept, his radar ears told him what was going on. The visitors departed. Charles William took his bottle. When the ears relayed the second burp to Socks’s brain, he came out from under the bed and, trailing dust from his whiskers, ran down the hall to the kitchen in time to meet Mr. Bricker with the formula bottle.
    â€œSorry, Socks,” said Mr. Bricker, unscrewing the cap. “Cassie is right. You’re too fat.”
    Socks looked up and meowed to tell his master how hungry he was and how much in need of comfort after a terrible afternoon.
    â€œBeat it.” Mr. Bricker’s words were rude, but his voice was kindly. “We can’t have any fat cats around this house. We keep fit around here.”
    Mrs. Bricker entered the kitchen to prepare supper. “I’m going to watch my diet,too,” she said, as her husband dumped Socks’s share of the warm milk down the drain. “And I’m going to start exercising. I still can’t zip all my slacks.” She raised her arms and bent to touch her toes.
    Socks was outraged. What was the matter with these people? He was supposed to have formula now. He always had formula after Charles William. These people could not treat him this way. He placed his front paws on Mr. Bricker’s leg and meowed to let his feelings be known.
    â€œSorry.” Mr. Bricker had made up his mind to start Socks on a program of physical fitness.
    â€œOne, two, one, two.” Mrs. Bricker continued to touch her toes.
    Socks unsheathed his claws the least bit and let them prick Mr. Bricker’s leg.
    â€œOuch. Cut that out.” Mr. Bricker unhooked the claws and walked out of thekitchen, leaving Socks to sulk beside the refrigerator while Mrs. Bricker, out of breath from her exercise, prepared the evening meal.
    â€œAll right, Socks,” she finally said, after she had tripped over him twice and stepped on his tail, “I’ll feed you now and get you out of the way.” She laid four pieces of kidney instead of eight on the dish in the laundry room. Socks gulped them down and looked up as if to say, “Where’s the rest of my meal?” Four pieces of meat would not get him out of the way when he was used to eight.
    â€œSilly cat,” said Mrs. Bricker with affection. “You and I are going to lose weight.” Socks sat down beside the refrigerator and gave his whiskers a quick swipe with his paw while he thought the problem over.
    When Charles William fussed in the back bedroom, and Mrs. Bricker hurried off to attend to him, Socks saw his chance. He sprang to the counter where he was disappointed to discover that the Brickers werehaving wieners for supper. Too hungry to be choosy, he sank his teeth into a link and thumped to the floor.

    â€œSocks!” shouted Mrs. Bricker, who heard the thump and knew its meaning.
    Socks ran in a guilty crouch through the laundry and down the hall to his refuge under the bed. Mr. Bricker was after him with the broom. “We can’t let you get awaywith that,” he said on his hands and knees, as he lifted the Indian bedspread and poked at his cat. “Come on out of there.”
    Socks carried his prey to the farthest corner against the wall and, growling, faced Mr.