Socks Read Online Free PDF

Bricker. This was his wiener, and he was willing to fight for it. Mr. Bricker pushed the broom at him, but Socks did not budge. He growled more fiercely and his fur rose along his spine. Let his owner yell and poke. He was hungry, and he was going to have that wiener.
    The broom jabbed again. Socks dropped his wiener in the dust and, with every hair standing on end, hissed.
    Mr. Bricker laughed. “Okay, you win this time, but next time, look out!” He rose to his knees and left Socks to his prey.
    Socks settled down to gnaw the wiener as fiercely as if he had stalked and killed it. If his owners did not care enough about him to feed him properly, he would live by his wits.

4
The Evening the Sitter Came
    M r. Bricker sang while he changed Charles William’s diaper. “Feed the baby garlic, so we’ll find him in the dark. Oh, a boy’s best friend is his mother.”
    â€œThere’s a little wheel a-turning in my heart,” sang Mrs. Bricker, as she folded diapers. Life was easier for the young parents. Charles William, who now ate egg yolk, vegetables, and strained meat, could sleepthrough the night without a bottle at two o’clock in the morning.
    Socks, not so fortunate, still woke up at two o’clock expecting formula to be poured into his bowl. He felt cheated by the diet meals that his owners served him. After his small nutritious breakfast, he was allowed to sit beside the refrigerator all day without an offer of a bite to eat. He waited for food to be left on the counter so he could steal it, but his owners were too smart for him. Socks was reduced to catching and eating moths.
    The Brickers not only refused to give Socks all he wanted to eat, they insisted that he exercise. Mr. Bricker tied a wad of cellophane to the end of a string and dragged it around the carpet for Socks to chase. “Come on, cat,” he said. “You still have some fat to work off.” After a few turns around the room, Socks, breathing heavily, found lyingdown easier than playing.
    The empty feeling in his middle sharpened Socks’s hunting instincts. He stalked Mrs. Bricker’s furry bedroom slippers until she caught him and shut them away in the closet. He crouched, waggled his rump, and pounced on the brown corduroy bear when Charles William shoved it out of his crib. He carried it around in his mouth until Charles William set up such a howl that Mrs. Bricker rescued the bear and returned it to its owner.
    â€œBad Socks,” she scolded. “You leave Brown Bear alone.”
    Socks gave her a cold look. Couldn’t she see he was not bad? He was hungry.
    Late afternoons were hardest for Socks, for then Mrs. Bricker sat on the couch holding Charles William, draped in a diaper to catch spills, and spooned cereal, strained meat, vegetables, and applesauce from custardcups into his messy mouth. “See the kitty,” she said, as Socks watched hungrily. “See the fat kitty.”
    The fat kitty did not care about cereal, vegetables, and applesauce, but he resented the baby’s getting that meat. However, he knew how to get even. He walked to the front door and meowed.
    Socks now had Mrs. Bricker at a disadvantage. Both her hands and her lap were occupied, and she did not know whether her cat merely wanted to go out or whether he needed to. Socks meowed a second time.
    â€œOh, Socks,” said Mrs. Bricker with a sigh. “Do you have to?”
    Socks meowed a third time, and as he knew she would, Mrs. Bricker set the custard cup she was holding on the coffee table, carried Charles William, who fussed at the interruption, across the room, and opened the door. “Socks, we love you,” she said, “butyou are getting to be a nuisance. A big fat nuisance.” When Socks took his time walking through the door, she gave his tail a little push with her toe and shut the door behind him.
    Socks was determined to satisfy the empty feeling in his middle. He leaped the