The Vulpix who went to Heaven
By Mew3692002
Disclaimer: I do not OWN any of the Pokemon, but I do own these off-shoots of Pokemon that I made and my other OCs, or the original idea for the story of "The Cat who went to Heaven" by Elizabeth Coatsworth. I don't even own the copyright for the book by Scholastic Inc. and the Macmillan Company. So you can't sue me! Although you should really read the actual book!
I hope all of you like this story! There is a reason why I am writing this other than what most of you might think, but I can't tell you why just yet!
The next morning the artist found the Vulpix curled up in a ball on the artist's pillow. "Ah! You have chosen the softest place in the house!" said he. Great Fortune immediately rose, and began to stretch as well as shake the sleep out of her eyes. When the housekeeper came back from the store and cooked a small meal, Great Fortune did not go near the stove, though her shimmering eyes wandered towards it from time to time and her luxurious tails quivered slightly with hunger.
She happened to be present when the old woman brought in a low table and set it up before her master. Next came a bowl of Magikarp soup—who knows how the housekeeper must have bargained and haggled to get that fish! But Great Fortune made a point of keeping her eyes in the other direction. "I would say," said the artist, visibly pleased by her behavior, "that she understood it is not polite to stare at people whilst they eat.
She is very well behaved. From whom did you buy her?" "I bought her from a sailor in town," said the old woman. "She is the eldest daughter of his Ninetails. But I haven't a clue as to why a sailor would own a Ninetails or a Vulpix. Something about they frighten away demons of the sea." "Hah!" said the artist. "A Vulpix doesn't frighten demons. They are its kin. The sea demons spare a ship out of courtesy to the Vulpine, not from fear of her."
The old woman did not contradict. She knew her place better than that. Great Fortune continued to sit with her face to the wall, so close her muzzle was touching it. The artist took another sip or two of soup.
Then he said to the housekeeper, "Please be kind enough to bring a bowl for Great Fortune when you are able, she must be hungry." When the bowl came he called for her politely. Having been properly invited, Great Fortune stopped looking at the other side of the room, and came to sit beside her owner. She took care not to eat hurriedly and soil her red round chin.
Although she must have been very hungry, she would eat only half her soup. It was as though she kept the rest for the next day, wishing to be no more of a burden than she would be able to help. So the days went on, each morning the artist knelt quietly on the floor and painted beautiful little pictures that no one bought: some of Machoke battling it out; some of lovely Pichus frolicking through the garden; some of Spearow flying gracefully through the air; and some of little laughing Umbreon running through the moonlight, or fat Snorlax beating on their chest like drums. While he worked, the old woman went to town with the little money the artist had in his possession.
Great Fortune, having found that she could not help them, sat in the sun, ate very little at all, and often spent hours kneeling before a picture of Jesus Christ. "She is praying to God," said the housekeeper. "She is not, Pokemon have no Gods," said the artist, "You would have believed anything of your little Vulpix." But one day, he was forced to admit that Great Fortune was unlike any Vulpix he had seen before.
He was sitting in his garden, watching as the Pidgey flew over his head, when he saw the Great Fortune leap onto the bird Pokemon as if to kill it. Great Fortune had it underneath her paws, but then something unexpected happened, Great Fortune slowly lifted her paws off of the bird. Unhurt, the Pidgey flew away in a burst of energy. "How kind!" said the artist, taken aback by the act of kindness. He knew that his Vulpix must be hungry and from experience, knew what it was like to go hungry.
"I can't believe I called this Vulpix as demon," he thought to himself, "why she is more kind than a Chansey." Suddenly, the housekeeper burst into the room, "Master!" she cried, "Master, the priest from the church itself is here to see you!" "The priest?" said the artist, not able to believe what he was hearing. The artist just nodded and tried his best to contain his excitement.
"Go! Go! Go buy some tea and cake," and he pressed into the housekeeper's hands the last thing of value he owned, a small ebony Dragonite statuette that has been in his family for generations. But even if the room looked bare and vacant after this, he had to keep his guest entertained for the time being. He almost didn't feel Great Fortune rub against his legs in the rush. In the next room, the priest patiently sat, waiting for the artist to arrive.
The artist quickly sat before him, waiting for the priest to finally notice him. It seemed to be hours before the priest finally seemed to notice him. The priest wasted not a moment in coming to the point of his visit. "The Church desires," said the priest, "a painting of the death of our lord Jesus Christ for the Church. There was some discussion as to who we would choose for such a task, so we drew a name out of the hat, and you were picked. We knew God's will that you would be chosen for such a task. Hearing of your despot lifestyle, I have brought the first payment with me so to relieve your mind of worrying of pay. If you are successful, you will be handsomely rewarded."
With that the priest drew a heavy bag from his side. The artist never remembered the priest leaving but he did, and suddenly, he was all alone in the house. Here was his chance at last at fame and fortune! It felt like it was all a dream, why has God chosen him of all people? Surely there were better artists in the surrounding area than him.
He had been too sad to pray and the housekeeper was always so busy. Could it be that God listened to the prayers of a little Vulpix? He was afraid he would wake up and find that it was all a dream and this event never happened. Perhaps he would never have been brought out of his train of thought if it wasn't for a particular noise he heard.
It wasn't like any sound he had ever heard. The artist, ever curious, went to the kitchen to see what the noise was about. When he entered, he saw the housekeeper and Great Fortune, both jumping for joy. At this, the artist had to laugh, they looked so silly! He then hugged them both, and they all jumped for joy.
So, what do you think so far? I hope to get reviews on this; I think the actual story was written in 1930, I hope some of you get to read this wonderful story!