Itinerant Socks

Stray socks are roaming our apartment. A sock that I'd left on the coffee table last night turned up later on the bedroom rug. My husband handed it to me with raised eyebrows, silently accusing me of leaving clothes on the floor. (I was happy to correct him, although I'd just left a whole pile of clothes in the living room temporarily. After freezing to death in a hat, scarf, gloves and multiple layers half the evening, I'd gotten wise and turned up the heat.)

Another sock, which I'd draped over the bedroom fireplace screen to dry on Monday, turned up that evening in the kitchen, in the cats' water dish. Either we have itinerant socks or one of the kittens is a Sock Snatcher. I've never had one of those before, just as I've never had an Ear Nurser or a Toy Growler or a Christmas Tree Climber or a Stove Jumper.*

I'm usually up for new cat experiences, as long as they don't involve creative litter-box behavior or trips to the ER.

So, which kitten is the Sock Snatcher? 

It's a long shot that it's Wendy, although she does like to carry toys all over the place. It's definitely not Possum; he's too busy being lazy intellectual to do any work whatsoever. 

Pick the Sock Snatcher

I'll bet it's Harris. He likes to make soups from his toys in that dish. He makes a hearty catnip mouse broth, and a more delicate, clear consommé of plastic jingle ball. He makes a rustic potage of Christmas tree twigs almost every day. He will be sorry to see that tree go.

I'm going to start leaving socks everywhere to see who gets caught in the act.

It's also possible that we have two Sock Snatchers, of course. Stay tuned.


 * Snicky was a String Swallower like Toffee, but I always caught her in the act with that same toy, before I learned to store it out of reach. She was not as dedicated as our little Toffeepot — who swallowed about a foot of string long with the fabric "moth" tied to the end. The previous owner of this apartment left us that toy in 1998 and it survived until Toffee.