Sox

SOX

Sox, a black and white moggy, is twelve years old. He is getting on, in cats years, in fact he is well into middle age.
Living in a suburban house and garden with his owners, Ken and Mary, he is content.
Sox likes to sleep for most of the balmy summer days. He likes to lie amongst the long-leafed lilies and Crocosmia plants near the back lawn, to get some shade. Not for him the full sun. He prefers to just get dappled rays on his fur. He then makes his bed, right there.
Along the road from him there is one other cat and a small, yappy dog. Sox teases the dog, a Scottish terrier, by sitting on the lower roof of the adjoining garage and meowing at him over the fence. The Scotty barks, or yaps persistently, pawing up the wooden fence, almost going crazy. Sox, seemingly smug, grins, knowing he is safe on the garage, from the dogs’ bite.
The other cat is more of a problem. Terence, a grey short hair, thinks he is King of the road. Sox has come close to clawing him, exchanging vicious cries on an evening.
In fact, Sox geared himself up for a spat just last night.
Terence appeared from nowhere in Sox’s garden. He padded proudly across the new-mown lawn and under the old apple tree. Before he could jump the back fence Sox meowed loudly. Terence stopped and saw the big black and white cat behind him. He bristled and arched his back. Suddenly, Sox leapt forward, paws and claws extended, ready for a fight. Terence spat and made a loud high-pitched scream, his whiskers pointing sharply. He jumped up like a startled lamb, on all fours.
Sox threw a paw at Terence’s side, catching him and pulling some of his grey fur with his sharp claws. Terence, his eyes burning, rolled over on the lawn before retreating and clearing the back fence like a startled Jack rabbit..
Sox licked his paws in victory. He then went inside his house for a big feed.
Lying under the plant leaves the next day as the sun shone down through the shading, he fell asleep. He dreamed he was watching a big mouse hole where mice hid and could be chased and picked off easily. His whiskers and paws twitched and he dribbled down his chin. He woke with a start and began licking his paws, before passing them over his ears. Summer was a good time for him. He got up and walked leisurely to the front of the house. He sat on the verge of the road and saw Terence. Terence lay beneath a new sign, outside his house. The sign said ‘For Sale’.

Sox meowed and purred loudly. It was such a good time for a cat, he thought. Yes, a very good time indeed, and he walked back to his bed, tail up, and lie contentedly amongst the flowers.