We did it, guys.
We caught them all.
OK, that’s slightly fake news. By “all” I mean “some.” We caught them some. (Me caught grammar good.) We are still not in possession of a Bulbasaur, and there is no Charizard on the premises. (We do have about eleven Jigglypuffs, since that’s an appropriate nickname for the entire population of Suite C.)
But with Dratini, Vulpix, Ditto, Togepi and Goldeen in our grasp, we’re well on our way to catching them all.
Oh, who am I kidding? We’re the ones who got caught here. But we’re happy as a Snorlax in sprinkles to be in the clutches of this crew.
Our Pokemon-named kids came from the same situation as friendly elders OJ, Chloe, Cisco and Tux. But this second generation of survivors is neither old nor…well, friendly.
At least, they weren’t. But a funny thing happens when you catch humans. You also catch a whiff of their wonderfulness.
As of this writing, the Pokemon pack are still investigating reports of human wonderfulness.
Vulpix is the only one who called off the investigation before it first began. Approximately 40,000 pounds of soft black happiness, Vulpix has forgiven our entire species for every indignity ever committed, including giving him a name that sounds like a failed Polaroid product and creating Peeps-filled Oreos. Vulpix forgives all, loves all, and eats all. Even Peeps-filled Oreos. Even Polaroids (the cameras, not the photographs).
Vulpix’s fellow pilgrim Goldeen is almost finished with her investigations of our rumored non-wretchedness. She’s taken to giving and getting snuggles with abandon, and I have it on good authority that she’s “pick-uppable” under the right circumstances. (I have it on no authority whatsoever that those circumstances include fried chicken chalupas and softly singing Dawes songs, but both are a good idea.)
If Goldeen — who is neither gold nor kin to Paula Deen — has her PhD in human handling, Togepi is working on his second Masters.* (He only studied Engineering to please his parents, and now it’s time to pursue his true love of 19th Century Russian Literature.) He’s letting us mush him with escalating affection, but don’t press your luck by picking him up or playing Limp Bizkit or anything else that might frighten him. And, for the love of love itself, do not ask him which syllable is emphasized in his name. That case is closed: nobody knows, nobody is allowed to know, and we all know to toe the line. If you don’t, Togepi will scream at you with that Samuel L. Jackson-like voice from the Arby’s commercials. (You know the ones. WE HAVE THE MEATS!!!!!!!) It’s true, and it’s terrifying.
But not as terrifying as the entire world seems to D and D.
Tabby’s Place’s own answer to Beavis and Butt-Head, Sherlock and Watson, Jerry and George, Key and Peele all rolled into one terrified, two-headed package, Ditto and Dratini take being besties very seriously. Actually, they take all things seriously, including the business of whether to catch or release us. As they learn to let us in, they’re not letting each other go. Through diarrhea (Ditto’s), prescription chow (ditto) and the daily drama of beholding horrifying humans (that’s us), they are one another’s axis mundi. Once one concludes we’re OK, D #2 will fall like a delighted domino, I’m confident.
Meantime, we’re mushing the whole motley crew at personalized paces. We’re grateful they’re here, we’ll give them all the time they need to stretch their souls, and we don’t take their capture for granted. Setbacks are to be expected with super-shy cats from other planets, so we’ll do our best not to scare them unnecessarily, with loud noises or political conversations or Arby’s commercials.
Whatever they have in store for us, we have the beasts from beyond this world…and they completely, totally, irrevocably have our hearts.
*And Eevee, who arrived with these oddballs, has a Fulbright, a Rhodes and postdocs at all eight Ivy League universities. She was adopted almost instantly, possibly because she wants to be hugged almost continually and looks like Nermal, as you can see in the top thumbnail.