Page 15 of We’ll Prescribe You Another Cat
On the train ride to Shiga, Hayato showed Tatsuya the videos uploaded by the person caring for the cat. She was sprawled out like a rug, with several hands rubbing her belly. Just like the doctor mentioned, the cat’s caretakers were indeed spoiling her.
“Someone from a cat rescue in Kyoto commented on this person’s social media. They said if you find a lost cat, you should contact local animal control, the city authorities, or the police.”
“But if you contact animal control, won’t they take the cat away?”
“Apparently, if you report it as ‘lost property,’ you can hold on to it. The person from the rescue explained things very thoughtfully.”
On Hayato’s phone, Tatsuya saw that the comment was posted by someone named Kajiwara, the deputy director of the cat rescue. He wasn’t used to reading on a screen and struggled with the tiny text. He kept adjusting his reading glasses back and forth, which made Hayato chuckle.
“If the owners of the lost cat had gotten in touch with local authorities, too, they might have connected faster. I bet the only thing the Watanabes did was to put up that flyer on the bulletin board. If they looked things up online, they’d have found people like this cat rescue guy who shares helpful information on finding lost cats.”
“If I were the Watanabes, I would’ve only thought to put flyers on the neighborhood bulletin board or on telephone poles, too.”
“They only had their home phone number on that flyer, nothing else,”
said Hayato as he rested his cheek on his hand and gazed out the window.
They were on the local train heading east from Kyoto Station. From the window, they could see Lake Biwa. It was Tatsuya’s first excursion in a long time.
To meet a cat with his grandson.
* * *
“Did you take that role in the neighborhood association?”
asked Ayumi.
“I did.”
Tatsuya sat with his arms crossed at the dining table covered in a mountain of paper, wondering where to begin. He had met with the association president and had been handed over these documents. In the aging neighborhood, there was a shortage of people who wanted to hold office, so Tatsuya was welcomed very warmly.
“I took the role, but I didn’t think they would assign me three positions: chair of disaster prevention, vice treasurer, and local committee member. Well, I guess I’ll just manage bit by bit.”
“Oh my! Three positions?”
Ayumi responded, her expression a complicated mix of happiness and concern.
“What if they digitized that stuff?”
When Tatsuya looked up, he saw Hayato sitting opposite him, his hair still messy from having just woken up. He was holding one of the files with faded papers.
“It’s not like you ever look at this stuff. You can scan these to a digital archive and get rid of the paper.”
“If we did whatever you just said, the older folks won’t be able to keep up.”
“Let’s cut down on this culture of unnecessary paperwork for the next generation. We’re not tossing out the old. We’re just blending the old with the new.”
“I can’t make heads or tails of what you’re saying.”
Tatsuya was only half listening. Hayato smiled sleepily.
“I was thinking about that bulletin board from the other day and figured that a physical bulletin board is still pretty essential. There are still a lot of folks who aren’t savvy with digital stuff. But if it was only the flyer, I don’t think we’d have found Ms. Michiko. But if we’d relied solely on social media, we wouldn’t have found the owners. So we really have to connect the two methods.”
“Yeah, I still don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Just think of it as connecting you and me. We’re working on a project at school about these kinds of innovations, so I’m going to use our neighborhood association as a model.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying. Why are you taking that account book?”
“Okay, okay.”
Hayato laughed.
There was always a gap in language and sensibilities between generations.
Sometimes, it was difficult to understand one another.
Ayumi still half considered Hayato as a shut-in and was worried about Hayato and the nighttime walks he took with his grandfather, as she was worried about Tatsuya falling and injuring himself.
Tatsuya, too, wasn’t too keen on trying out new things.
But at seventy-eight, for the first time, he had experienced something truly baffling.
The cat in Shiga was indeed the giant cat from the clinic.
The mom from the family fostering Ms.
Michiko brought her out like a big, heavy sack.
The way the cat just dangled in the woman’s arms, refusing to move while wearing a disdainful expression, was exactly the same.
Apparently, the family had been barbecuing by the shore of Lake Biwa when the kids found Ms.
Michiko plodding around.
She was wearing a collar, so they reported her to the police, but there was no coordinated effort to share information about lost pets across regions.
In just a few days, the holding period for Ms.
Michiko had been about to expire, and she was about to be adopted by the family who had found her.
The mom and kids had started to cry.
They had grown fond of the cat.
When Tatsuya showed them the pink collar, they were astonished—she had been wearing it until the day before.
Since they had taken the cat in, they had not entrusted her to anyone else, and she had been lounging around the house the entire time.
They had never heard of the clinic’s name or address.
Everything seemed real, yet some of it felt like a dream.
The foster mom seemed particularly curious about Nakagyō Kokoro Clinic for the Soul, and it seemed the rumor about the place was going to spread.
Would the door actually open when someone came by in the future? Would it open only if they were as desperate as the magnetic necklace guy?
The man had been shady, but he had also been kind in his own way.
Tatsuya hoped that whoever came by after hearing the rumors would buy his necklaces.
Eventually, he planned to visit the Watanabes and take a photo of Ms.
Michiko.
He wanted to send it to the family who had fostered her to let them know she was flourishing.
Meanwhile, Tatsuya was learning how to use his smartphone.