-Chapter Seven-
I ended up spending two hours slowly grooming my fur. Admittedly I could have done it faster if so much of my attention wasn't on a funny show about a talking growlithe that travelled into various books with his human companion. But regardless, I felt I needed the time to properly relax after the long journey and that terrifying encounter with a feral pokemon.
'Growlithes sound nothing like this.' I understood that TV shows didn't have to perfectly follow reality, but this was just ridiculous. Not even the hat and glasses he was wearing were enough to convince me he was intelligent and well-read. Growlithes slobbered like crazy and couldn't even speak proper grammar most of the time, let alone read books. It was a shame the writers hadn't consulted actual pokemon before making this series. Anyone with sense would have cast a smarter pokemon for the role, like an eevee.
The questionable casting in Wishbone wasn't truly what was bothering me; rather it was a concern of a more personal nature. I'd questioned it earlier but now that all the dust was out of my fur and I was completely dry there was no denying that something had changed. I no longer looked entirely like myself. My white collar of a mane was a little shinier, and my fur was a deeper brown. All in all it wasn't a huge change, but considering it happened all at once without my notice it was still quite shocking. Previously the only way my body had changed since reaching one years old was to grow a few small centimeters. I needed a mirror.
Despite my earlier exhaustion I felt newly energized. I hopped up on the bathroom sink and took a brief moment to preen my head fur into perfect position before switching on the light.
"Vee!" Amazing. I hadn't thought it possible, but I was actually cuter than before. I was still recognizably myself but the different hues emphasized the best parts of my look. Every pose I made was perfection, guaranteed to impress even the most stubborn human with my legendary cuteness.
I flicked off the light with my tail and hopped down. If I stared much longer I worried I might even fall for myself, and that simply wouldn't do.
I shut off the television but was still too restless to read or get in a quick beauty nap. Though I definitely appreciated the upgrade to my looks it was still frustratingly strange in how randomly it had happened. The only possible guess I could come up with involved the small rush of energy I'd felt when the rattata fainted. I'd thought it was just relief from not getting torn apart by a feral animal but was it possible that was what it felt like to level up?
"Vee," I scoffed. What nonsense. Pokemon got stronger from leveling up, they didn't get cuter.
...But what if they could?
Nope, still wasn't doing it. Not even for the sake of cuteness. Battling was dangerous, painful, and messy — and besides, I was plenty cute already. I was just going to forget all about this matter and work on reading the book I'd worked so hard to get.
"Hey." I perked my head up to look at Paul, wondering if he'd notice my new fur. "Make me a pepperoni pizza."
Correction, I'd read it after I looked up how to make pizza in the family cookbook. Hopefully it wouldn't take too terribly long.
Pizza took forever to make. And even when it was done I was far from satisfied with the result. It was unevenly cooked, some of the pepperoni curling and black. I suspected that was from the lumpy dough underneath. It was such a pain to beat homemade dough into submission without the aid of hands. The sauce and cheese was easier, but given that I hadn't gotten the dough to the recipe's specified size I wasn't sure whether I was adding too much or too little.
If there was anything more frustrating than having so much work accomplish so little, it was to be told that there was no point to the work in the first place. The first thing Paul did when coming into kitchen was wrinkle his nose and head to the freezer. I just about face-faulted when he pulled out a box of frozen pizza.
"This. I want this! Stupid pokemon. Speed up already, I'm hungry and I just ate all the chips."
I cringed at the reprimand but something in my gut roiled in protest. He wasn't the only one who was hungry, and I'd been the one diligently working to make him a meal, not stuffing my face with chips.
The moment he left the kitchen I started tearing the box open with my teeth, wondering where those thoughts came from. Paul was just being Paul, why would that bother me now all of a sudden?
A possible answer was practically staring me in the face as I carefully put the pizza in the oven without burning myself or setting my fur on fire. I was used to not getting a thankyou but to work so hard and still have my work be so thoroughly cast aside ike rank garbage was just too painful. But it didn't have to be thrown away. Paul wasn't the only one around with a stomach, and I was hungry and frustrated enough to give eating pizza a try.
Paul had already left the kitchen to go back to his video games so there was no one watching as I toddled off with the whole pizza tray, a couple pot holders keeping my paws safe from the heat. I finally settled inside a closet full of winter clothes where no one was likely to bother me. I breathed in the scent of basil, garlic, cheese and tomato as it filled the small space. It was almost overpowering, but even burnt the pepperoni were enough to tempt me past my doubts.
I wondered briefly if this would truly be my first bite of human food. It was made by a pokemon which technically might make it pokemon food, but it was still strange and new and exciting. I couldn't wait to experience the flavor of something other than poke-kibble. My tail lashed at the closet wall behind me as I eagerly slid the pizza a little off the baking tray and took a sizeable bite.
"Ee! Ee! Ee!" Molten cheese and bubbling-hot sauce exploded on my tongue. I spat it out immediately, creating quite a mess, but that quick action didn't entirely save me from a burnt tongue. I panted with my mouth held wide open but the feeling wasn't going away.
A commercial of all things sprang to mind, one I'd heard so many times that the jingle was stuck in my head. It must've worked on Paul too because he'd begged his mother to buy him some. I skidded along the kitchen floor as I raced for the freezer, climbing up a stool to reach it.
A wave of strange but welcome coolness washed over me as I opened the freezer door for the first time in my life, but that wasn't all I was after. A half-full box of Ice Berry Popsicles lay right in front of me for the taking. I hesitated for barely a moment before grabbing one. I'd already crossed the forbidden line of eating human food, so what was one more transgression?
Rather than ripping the wrapping open with my teeth, I imitated Pauls movements and shoved the popsicle up through the wrapper before plopping it in my mouth.
"Eeeeeveee." So good. The flavor was only so-so, an intense sweetness that overloaded my tastebuds to an almost sickening extent, but the secondary effects were quite wonderful. My burnt tongue eased its complaints in moments, and in fact my whole body seemed cooler. The commercial didn't lie about its ability to keep away the summer heat. If I wasn't worried about Paul or his parents noticing a popsicle thief at work I'd be tempted to grab one every day during the hotter months.
After discarding the wrapper in the trash to prevent question I set about grabbing a knife and fork, all the while sucking contentedly on the ice berry pop. It had become apparent to me that humans might use utensils for more than just bragging that they had hands. While I'd cooked half a dozen different dishes by now, I was still new to actually eating hot food. After my disastrous first attempt I figured it was best to learn from the experts.
I returned to the closet, wincing a little as I saw the mess I'd made from spitting out the bite of pizza. Well, the closet wasn't very well-lit; maybe no one would notice. I'd still attempt to clean it up when I was done eating, but I knew there was no getting those stains out entirely. At least my fur wasn't damaged.
A rush of unpleasant coldness flooded through my brain as I finished the popsicle with a bite but I swiftly shrugged it off. With no drippy popsicle to distract me anymore I set to cutting. I'd used knives before when cooking, as well as spoons, but forks were new to me. It was a most unwieldy process but eventually I managed to get a small square of pizza hooked on the fork and moving towards my mouth without dropping off.
I paused as it neared my lips, wondering if I was forgetting something. I was using the right tools now for human food but I worried I was forgetting something. I didn't think utensils automatically made food the right temperature, but I wasn't entirely sure it didn't, either. Human technology could be tricky sometimes.
'Oh!' I remembered now. It was something I'd only seen at mealtimes when Paul's mother was eating but it had struck me as odd enough to be memorable. Reflecting on the memory, I carefully did my best to copy the motion. It felt strange to purse my lips but I slowly forced them to comply. Ultimately a human's mouth wasn't all that different from my own, so I figured I could manage it. My lips were less pronounced and my teeth a little sharper, but my barely-there snout meant my general mouth structure was quite similar.
My confidence was rewarded as I managed to hold my lips in a circle long enough to softly blow on the piece of pizza. I tentatively touched it to my lips to make sure it wasn't still as hot as lava but found it to be only fairly hot, not mouth-burning hot. The fork plus food-blowing technique worked! It was no hyper beam, but humans sure did come up with clever techniques on occasion.
My growling stomach convinced me that the time for delay was over, so I took the bite in one go. "Ee…" I moaned as I gently chewed on the mix of soft and crunchy material. It was so overwhelming in its flavors that I could scarcely comprehend it all. It was one thing to smell the pizza but actually tasting it was a thousand times more intense.
As soon as I finished the first bite I set about cutting off another portion, then another the moment I finished that. The spices were almost more than my tongue and stomach could handle but the pizza was too tasty for me to stop. The cheese, sauce, bread and pepperoni were all new flavors to me, and the combination was a unique experience I could never have imagined even in my dreams. My only regret was how long it took me to spear each piece on my fork.
It wasn't until I heard the oven's buzzer going off that I stopped my gluttonous consumption. I stopped cutting into the pizza with considerable regret, but reluctantly admitted that it was for the best that I stopped now. I'd always looked a little soft thanks to all my fur but now I could physically feel how my belly swelled out towards the floor. No surprise really. The pizza was wider than I was, so even just half of it made for a very sizeable meal. On top of that it was far greasier than even the little fried magikarp strips that Paul's father sometimes gave me for performing tricks like rolling over or fetching the morning paper. As tasty as it was, I nonetheless felt that pizza was likely a treat best enjoyed in small quantities lest I end up like one of those too-plump poke-pets on TV.
Was I actually thinking about having pizza again? I was, wasn't I. It was quite daring of me to do it the first time, even with material destined for the trash, but the reward was too great to ignore. A premade pizza was obviously out of the question as it would be too
I left my utensils and half-eaten pizza behind as I went to turn off the buzzer. Carrying them would require walking on my hind legs and for the moment I was disinclined to. With such a heavy load in my stomach, four legs was undoubtedly the best option.
I moved a bit sluggishly, particularly when mounting up to the counter to turn off the buzzer, but I still managed to get the pizza out of the oven and onto a cooling rack before Paul came in. He seemed visibly more impressed by the even golden brown of this pre-made pizza than my first attempt, despite it taking so much less effort to make. I couldn't quite bring myself to be proud about successfully making a new meal for my master but I nonetheless hurriedly set about putting some of it on a plate for him as he poured a large glass of soda for himself. I hoped he wouldn't be upset that it wasn't cut into bite-sized pieces. It came precut, after a fashion, but I didn't know what good it did to cut it in such large triangles. Each slice was far too large to conveniently lift with a fork.
"I smell pizza," said his mother. As she swept into the kitchen I quickly set the plate of pizza on the counter and jumped for the ground. I knew from my younger years that she very much disliked having animals on the counter. She'd gradually relaxed her rules about sleeping on some of the less fancy furniture, but the counter was a line I'd never thought to cross her on - at least until Paul asked me to cook for him. So far I'd managed to complete his food requests without being discovered but now my heart was beating in my chest and my stomach was protesting more than ever. I'd just narrowly avoided her seeing me engage in "strangeness" but I could still be in a whole heap of trouble if I'd left behind any pawprints. I doubted Paul would cover for me either. From how nervous he looked I had to wonder if we were actually allowed to use the oven at all.
"Hmm. It looks perfect." She pulled a slice onto a paper towel before taking a dainty bite from the tip. It was an odd but elegant and highly functional maneuver, with no fork or knife required. Once again my poor paws had lost out to hands and jealousy gripped me fiercely. "Did you cook this?"
Paul shuffled his feet and took a long sip of soda through a straw before replying. "...yep."
"And you're okay? Didn't burn yourself at all?"
Not unless you counted my tongue.
"Nope."
All of a sudden she took him into a tight hug despite his protests, even lifting him off the ground. "My little Paul's becoming such a big boy."
I wasn't sure why she was so impressed. Compared to my homemade pizza or even scrambled eggs, cooking a premade frozen pizza was nothing special. The instructions were printed on the box and it basically just involved sticking it in the oven and setting a timer to take it out. If I was taller and had hands like Paul it would take hardly any effort at all.
"Have you been cooking other things as well?" she asked. "I thought I noticed a few things missing from the pantries."
"Some stuff, yeah."
She gave him another tight hug before setting him down. My fur bristled and I had to restrain a budding growl in my throat, wondering just what had gotten into me to start acting like a wild animal. In truth though I had an idea. This wasn't the first time Paul had taken credit for my work and generally it didn't bother me, it was just something I did for my master. The high grades, and the parental praise as they put one of my drawings up on the fridge were directed at him, but I knew that in some ways it was me that they were praising. I could still imagine that I was in his place. But this was different. A hug could not be so easily transferred in my mind as encouraging words. Without raising a finger to deserve it he'd taken something precious from me, something I hadn't known that I so dearly desired until this moment.
The hurt I felt seemed almost physical as it scratched my insides and made my eyes burn. To avoid making a scene I had no choice but to struggle against my out of control emotions. I stuffed them down into a tight ball and pushed them so deep inside that I could almost forget they ever existed. I felt much better then, looking instead at the positive things in my life. The family didn't pay as much attention to me now that I wasn't a kit, but at least the librarian still thought I was cute. Within two weeks I'd be seeing her again, and hopefully receive another large helping of pets; maybe even some ear-scratches if I was lucky. And in the meantime, I still had my book to read.