Public Service Announcement from Socks

and tell Cindy no more "Classic Trains" please.

Jun 07, 2026

Did you know I almost died last year?

I got so terribly sick and nearly didn’t make it, but my vet saved my life — and it’s very lucky that my Cindy noticed I wasn’t doing so hot.

And you know who paid most of the vet bills? You guys did!

So this time, I wanted to talk to you about saving someone else. And this time it’s not me — not even a dog!

It’s my friend Nikki | Nocturnal Narrator. She has a copayment coming up for this machine thinger she needs for her heart, and the entire Substack community has rallied around her with an incredible raffle full of wonderful things.

Cindy wanted me to mention that if you win a prize you don’t want, she is totally okay with taking it off your hands. I told her I thought that was kinda greedy, but her eyes burned a little weird and I decided I’d better just lick my paw and change the subject.

So I called Nikki (who thinks I’m the cutest thing she’s ever seen) and told her I was going to “mobilize the Socks community.” She sounded thrilled.

Since then I’ve been trying to figure out what Sock-sy thing I could offer you. Paw prints? “Choose Socks” bumper stickers? Fluffy-tailed sit-upons for the ball games?

Then it hit me. Postcards. A postcard from me, from all the way across the ocean, with a really cute photo of me (could be your favorite even!) — and I’ll tell you something about my adventures. You can put me on your fridge and see me smiling at you every time you reach in for another hotdog.

All you have to do is donate at least $5 and send a screenshot (or maybe I’ll just believe you anyway). And if anyone goes wild and gives more, I’ll let you scratch under my chin — or even get a private video postcard, just from me to you.

Here’s the thing: my buddy Nikki really needs this. I think we can do something really special for her.

$5 and up — you get the postcard. $10 and up — you’re in the raffle too.

Shall we do something wonderful for my dear friend? And if times are tight, we can just light a candle for her. I, personally, am counting on us.

In other news: I had the worst train trip of my life today. Please tell Cindy that the “classic trains,” though cheaper, are really just junkyard scraps they busted out of the warehouses to give sensitive dogs like me heart attacks. I could see the ground underneath us. The train was screaming. We were getting thrown all over the place. Never again, Cindy. Never again.