Fukuoka walks, talks with the animals

The Nishinippon Shimbun – our local newspaper – carries stories enough that remind us of all that goes wrong in the world. At the same time, daily items in the local news support the hope that we will find a way to muddle through after all, and attain a homespun kind of grace. This week's news essay collects the details of a selection of such stories from recent editions.

Back in April, two students from Fukuoka University – Ms. Okazaki and Mr. Shibata – were walking beside a prefectural road, when they heard a plaintive whining coming from the gutter. A small dog had somehow managed to get itself caught in the gutter – I imagine it crawled in from an open end, and was unable to turn itself around. Most Japanese roadside gutters are trenches about thirty centimetres deep, covered with ventilated concrete paving-blocks. These blocks are not cemented in place, so they can be removed – if, say, one needs to rescue an over-ambitious dog – but they weigh about sixty kilograms each. Our two students were unable to shift the lid on their own, so they enlisted the help of a nearby convenience shop owner. This shop owner – Mr. Ohishi – called on a city works crew, who arrived in remarkably short order to lift the lid and free the dog. Mr. Shibata bought the dog a snack, and it tagged along after the two students for a while before it wandered off on its own. Someone involved in this little adventure had a camera handy, so the newspaper story was able to feature a shot of the mystery dog blinking in the light of freedom after the gutter lid was lifted away. Mr. Ohishi was impressed with the kind-heartedness of the two young people, but Ms. Okazaki insisted that anyone would want to help out on hearing such a pleading noise underfoot. Mr. Shibata – perhaps humbled by what was apparently the public debut of his relationship with Ms. Okazaki – commented that he ‘just likes dogs’.

Fukuoka residents also like birds, and are often on the lookout for their welfare. Mr. Aoki, a company president who lives in the suburbs and commutes to work in the centre of town, found a shijûkara nest in a wall on 8 May this year. This kind of bird – Parus major, a kid of titmouse – usually nests in mountain pines or oaks; but they are beginning to make their nests in urban areas as the city expands into the mountains. Thus we can find here another example of the ongoing shift in population from the country to the city in modern Japan. A shijûkara has a businesslike appearance, with a black hat on its head, a white pinstripe on its wings, and a black band around its neck that could be taken for a necktie. This might have inspired a sense of solidarity in Mr. Aoki, who commented that he hoped the children would grow up and leave their nest in safety – no small challenge for any relocated country family, particularly in a neighbourhood with a significant number of wild cats.

Swallows are more seasoned urban residents, and many develop a close relationship with local business people. This past weekend, I came across a swallow nest in the station house at the end of a branch rail line, above the photographs of notable local sights. The newspaper reported on another swallow family nesting in a set of wind chimes in a suburban gallery. The wife of the gallery owner speculated that these particular birds might like the sound of bells tinkling in the wind, as this is the second year they have nested in this spot. Perhaps the birds out in the station house are fond of day-trippers.

Eelsewhere in the same town as the station-house swallows, a family of sharks placed in the fish tank of a seafood restaurant has been having a more difficult time settling in. On 17 may, the restaurant owner received a shark as a gift from one of his customers. He noticed that it had a swollen stomach; this he attributed to a healthy appetite, and was surprised to discover baby sharks swimming around the tank on the 25th. Unfortunately, his assumption about the shark’s appetite was misguided in more ways than one: it turns out that captive sharks are notoriously hard to feed, and several of the baby sharks have died. The restaurant owner is busy seeking out advice on the care and feeding of sharks. As well as being popular with his customers, the baby sharks are staring to feel like part of the family. All this goes to show how difficult it can be to welcome strangers among us; but all over Fukuoka, the people and the animals are trying to get along.

2002/06/01

Date posted: 2003-09-15