December 31st 2011 10:32 am
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[The following is a true story. Well…OK – most of it's true, but part of it is speculation. We don’t really know what Little Socks said and thought, after all. :) ]
Little Socks, had been born in late September, somewhere in the village. She couldn’t remember where; she’d been on the move since she was a kitten, first with her mother and siblings, then later, on her own. She was a pretty little thing; a lovely soft, gray tabby color, with a fluffy white apron and bright white socks on all her feet.
She had been cold her whole life, all three months of it; she knew no different. Well, except for those very early halcyon days of warmth against her mother’s belly, with her brother and sisters beside her. Then, occasionally later, when the sun would come out and shed glorious heat into whatever sheltered cove she was in for the moment.
When her mother stopped letting her nurse, it was touch and go for a while, trying to find enough food to survive. She ate insects when she could catch them, but they were starting to disappear as the winter set in. She scrounged whatever scraps she could find in discarded garbage. Sometimes there was food to be found on the porches of houses, but this could be dangerous since usually it meant other cats, or worse – Dogs. She’d had some close calls as a result. One such encounter had been the cause of the greatest adventure of her short life…
She was running, running, RUNNING as fast as she could! She dared not look back; she could hear the swift patter of feet and the sharp panting of her pursuer gaining on her. Ahead she spied a small tree which had sprung up untended beside one of the two-story abandoned derelicts of the town. In some far distant time when the village had been alive with the lumber boom, the building had housed a library; but this was long since gone, and the property had passed through a number of hands, never seeming to merit the repairs it so desperately needed. Now it stood forlornly empty, its upper windows broken by vandals or perhaps only the wind blowing the tree limbs against the panes. Wind and rain and snow had taken advantage of this breach of its defenses, blowing in the damp, as well as leaves and debris. The floors of the upper story were now no longer safe for human traffic, but still stood proof against the passage of those small wild creatures who sought momentary shelter from the elements.
None of this was of any concern to the little gray tabby, who saw only her means of escape from the dog who even now was snapping at her heels! With a great spring, she leaped into the lower branches of the tree, quickly shinnying up the trunk and through the open window, not once pausing for a look behind, or for a thought of where she was going. The dog jumped, baying at her retreating form – she was safe!
TO BE CONTINUED...
Oooooo...we can't wait for part II!!
Another interesting story! I'm curious to read the next parts to see what happens with little Socks.
Guess who's here late but Mom wanted to let you finish the story so she read the parts back to back.
On to the next part!
Hey Zoe! You're not late; the story is on-going!