The wonderment of that summer was ours and we happily soaked up every morsel of fun and excitement that we possibly could. More significantly though, every ‘precious’ day brought with it a funny and/or touching experience that brought Bicky and I closer and closer together. At that time I was holding down a full time job and was a graduate student to boot, so to say I was extremely busy would be an enormous understatement. Nonetheless, I always found ample time for Bicky. We were inseparable when I was home, and when I wasn’t, he would unfailingly wait for me by the door, carefully listening for the sound of my footsteps trudging up the old, clanging stairwell of our small apartment building, intent on giving me an enthusiastic and loving “fit for a king” welcome home. What a great way to end a tough day at work!
Behind the scenes, Naoko and I got very lucky and found a beautiful house that was to be our next abode. It was two stories with several beautiful rooms and a small front and backyard; it was perfect. Well…almost perfect. The real estate agency informed us after we had excitedly decided to take the house that we wouldn’t be able to move in until the middle of October (six weeks away). This was disappointing to say the least. The apartment we were living in was terribly cramped…especially with a medium sized dog, who was (thankfully) becoming more energetic and rambunctious the healthier he became. What’s more, the apartment contract specifically stated that pets were not allowed. Finally, after factoring in the nosy neighbors who would have no doubt eventually ‘tattled’ on us to the ‘not-so-understanding’ landlord about our ‘nefarious activities’, Naoko and I rightly determined that we were on borrowed time as it was. We couldn’t risk this threat much longer and suddenly find ourselves (Bicky included) thrown out on the street before the lease for the new house was signed and ready to be moved into. So what were we to do? There was a solution: Naoko’s parents could take care of Bicky for the following six weeks. This would not only solve the problem of the apartment, but also give us the badly needed time to get everything in order, including the move itself.
The Temple
Impressively, Naoko’s father was both a revered Buddhist Priest and teacher, and had his own temple about 230 miles north of Tokyo in a small village named Soumonzaki. Located in the northern prefecture of Niigata, at over 700 years old, the temple was one of the oldest and impressive in Japan. This exalted structure was definitely a sight to behold; Ancient wooden pillars, gold colored altars, towering Buddhist statues…It had it all. The temple was strictly for worship and services and primarily utilized by the people of the Soumonzaki and the surrounding townships. Adjacent to the temple was the family’s beautiful (architecturally nationality) modern home.
The entrance to the Temple.
View of the nationality style garden from one of the nationality style ‘tatami’ rooms in the family’s house.
Her father (I addressed him as Otoo San) was simply one of the greatest men I have ever known. So well read, disciplined, and at peace with himself; he really did epitomize what a priest (and teacher) should be. He treated me like a son and not only taught me about philosophical/religious matters but everyday practical things as well, such as the nationality language, social customs and etiquette.
Naoko’s mother (I addressed her as Okaa San) had an all-together different character but was no less wonderful. Beautifully complimenting her husband, she was unpretentious, down-to-earth, and fun. Taking care of the guests and worshippers who visited the temple, one could her argue her duties were in many ways just as important, and hands down more demanding than that of her husband’s. Often running on less than 4 hours of sleep a night, she always had a smile and an encouraging word. She was the definition of ‘salt of the earth’.
Otoo San and Okaa San made a beautiful pair, and ran the temple in a professional but familiar way. One could always feel at ease there, no matter who you were or what your station in life was. It was the perfect place to connect with your spirituality, whether you were a Buddhist or not.
Residing with them was Naoko’ s 100-year-old grandmother (I addressed her as Obaa San). Having lived through two world wars, raised twelve children (yes ‘12’) of her own, and been witness to the complete devastation (WW2) of Japan and its miraculous and meteoritic rise as a modern economic miracle, she had seen it all and nothing seemed to faze her. Strong in both spirit and attitude, she in many ways ruled the house…At least behind the scenes. Luckily, she was crazy about me; in fact, I believe she even had a bit of a crush. Always wearing a kimono she would sit for hours at a time, drink tea and talk about “the old Japan”. Her amazingly descriptive and revealing first-hand stories were always fascinating to me, and something I regret I hadn’t indulged in more and perhaps even documented when I had the chance. There’s nothing that illustrates and illuminates a historically significant time or event like talking to the actual participants themselves.
Otoo San, Okaa San, and Obaa San
Naoko’s Parents were in their seventies but possessed an inexhaustible quantity of drive and vitality. Their children (three daughters including Naoko) had all grown up and moved away. They had had a dog “Shiro”…a dog that had an uncanny resemblance to Bicky…but he had unfortunately passed away the previous December (at the ripe old age of 14 years). Even though, on the outside, Naoko’s father remained very stoic regarding ‘Shiro’s’ passing, the family sensed that he was still quite broken hearted about it, so we all were hoping that having Bicky around might even be therapeutic for him. …
Guess who! No, it’s not Bicky; it;s Shiro.
So…we decided that Bicky’s first day at the temple would be the following Sunday.
“Hitting the road had become a regular thing for us on weekends, so Bicky (initially) thought nothing was out of the ordinary when we packed up our newly bought car (a compact Honda) and headed out on the 4-hour-drive to Niigata: Bicky’s new home for the next six weeks. Bicky was looking especially ‘handsome’ that day; we had given him a nice bath and thorough brushing and he now looked like a big white fur ball. As we exited the local roads and crossed onto the highway, Bicky’s ears darted up and his head tilted sideways. Being the observant and sensitive dog he was, he knew something was up. But instead of getting that ‘worried/anxious’ look I would have expected, he broke into that perpetual smile of his, rested his little chin on my shoulder, and gazed at what appeared to be an endless highway opening up ahead of us. The cloudless blue sky and majestic mountains that snaked across the mystical landscape of the nationality countryside served as a beautiful backdrop for our perfect drive. Almost perfect that is…“There’s one thing missing.”, I thought. So I rifled through my CD case looking for Bicky’s favorite composer…” Yes, got it…Mozart!”, quickly threw it in the stereo and gently raised the volume. You see, with Bicky, it was Mozart or nothing. I tried so many kinds of music, but all of them were soundly given the ‘paws down’ by ‘the Bixter’…Classic Rock (my personal favorite) would leave Bicky agitated. Heavy Metal would stress him out. Country music…well, that would just leave him depressed…And he would just curl up in a ball when the sounds of Beethoven would turn terse or dramatic. Nope, it was Mozart or nothing…And whenever Mozart did play, Bicky’s eyes would magically light up and his ‘featherlike tail resembling a conductor’s baton, would sway back and forth, He was in Heaven…and so was I.
So there we were…”The three Amigos” (that was my nickname for us) driving along the highway, on a scorching, late August day, with the air conditioner turned up full blast and the sublime sounds of Mozart filling the air….We had snacks, soda….and I had my “cool Shades” on…Sheer Bliss
The great thing about our brand new car was that it was a hatchback and perfect for our unique family unit. It had the driver and passenger seat of course (for Naoko and I), and the back seats folded down so that Bicky had plenty of space to either lie down in his ‘doggy bed’, stand up, walk around, or look out the side or rear windows …with plenty of room to spare for any baggage. Considering how many trips we ended up taking, this car became our home-away-from-home.
After the ‘long’ but enjoyable four-hour drive, we pulled off the highway at the Niigata exit, and made our way through the local roads that crisscrossed he picturesque rice fields, finally arriving at the tiny village of Soumonzaki in mid-afternoon.
‘Otoo San’,’ Okaa San’, and ‘Obaa San’ were all standing and waiting outside the entrance of the house, ready to greet us.
“Looks like we’re getting ‘The Royal Welcome’ gang”. I peered into the back of the car where Bicky was now pacing about; he was trying to get a good look out the side windows in anticipation for whatever was to come next. Are you ready to make your debut Bicky?” Judging from the sudden trepidation in his face, if he could have spoken, the answer would have been a resounding “no’. So I reached back, stroking the soft fur on the scruff of his neck, and in my ‘baby voice’ (reserved only for Bicky), reassuredly said “Don’t worry little man, you’re going to be a smashing success.” He then miraculously eased up and once again broke into his ‘Jokerman smile’ of his. He always needed a little bit of coaxing and confidence reinforcement with these new experiences.
Naoko and I got out of the car and greeted everybody with smiles and hugs. But (of course) the main event was yet to come.
“Where’s Bicky?” Otoo san was excitedly eyeing the car.
“One moment please”, I announced in my best carnival barker voice, and ceremoniously bowed. I then jogged back to the car, opened the back hatch door, and scooped our little ‘man of the hour’ up into my arms.
”Voila”, raising him triumphantly over my shoulders, high in the air, so that everybody could see. “
“OOOOOOOOOH”, our reception party let out delighted sounds of adoration and excitement. “He’s so cute and beautiful”,
I proudly brought him over to the group that was now eagerly waiting to pet and hold him…Bicky was wagging his tail, bathing in the genuine love and adoring attention. The sun shone down on us, and the laughter that filled the air must have been heard for miles. I truly remember this like it happened yesterday…I can visualize every detail, every comment, joke, and giggle. Now as I look back on that special moment in time, and how most of those present that day have passed away, I realize how important it is to appreciate those happy moments, even if they don’t seem so significant or meaningful at the time. Life is fleeting indeed. The date was Aug. 24th, 2003.
We spent the rest of the afternoon there and, not surprisingly, I spent most of my time with Bicky, taking him around the temple and later on into the village of Soumonzaki itself.
Bicky was enthralled with all their was to be discovered there…little forests, gently flowing stream, rice fields, and welcoming rice farmers who were delighted to see such a beautiful dog.
In fact, because Bicky looked so much like Otto San’s previous dog “Shiro”…and because I had often been spotted walking Shiro by the villagers in the previous years, most of the people we encountered understandably assumed that the dog I was walking (Bicky) was in fact…the ‘late’ Shiro,
“Hello Shiro! You look so young and healthy; the weather must be agreeing with you!” I would try to explain that Shiro had unfortunately passed away and that I was walking a different dog to all the villagers that would approach us, But after explaining this a few times and seeing the joy in their eyes turn to sadness, I chose instead to not say anything and just nod my head. This, of course, made it difficult for me in any future encounters with these people to tell the truth (‘oh the tangle webs we weave’)…and well, after having Bicky for another nine years, and considering Shiro was 14 years old when he passed away, “Shiro” was widely regarded as the oldest (and amazingly still very healthy) dog in Japan by the whole village.
But as the day slid into night, the realization that I would have to relinquish custody of my Bicky for the following six weeks was starting to set in. I sadly walked back to the temple’s house with Bicky walking beside me (of course) and announced to everybody that we would have to be going soon. Bicky’s ‘doggy bed’, blankets, and toys were all set up for him in the kitchen of the house. That is where he was to stay…tied to a five-foot-long red rope. You see, the kitchen is where ‘Shiro’ spent most of his time and I guess Naoko’s mother and father just assumed that would be where Bicky would stay. However, after having full reign of our (albeit small) apartment, Bicky looked very concerned about the ‘tying up’ part. And as Naoko and I started packing up, Bicky’s uncanny intuition kicked in, sensing something was amiss.
He somehow knew that my hug was not just a hug, but a “sayonara’ hug, and he started to get that worried face of his and even began to whine.
I knelt down to Bicky “Now listen baby. I’m leaving you with Otoo San, Okaa San, and Obaa San, and they are going to take very good care of you”. Bicky raised his little paw up as if to plead with me to reconsider. He knew I was leaving and the fear in his eyes was palpable. I caressed his beautiful little head and gave him a kiss…”Stiff upper lip Bicky. I promise to be back in six weeks. I love you very much”.
And then it was time to leave; the sun was setting and Otoo san, Okaa san, and Obaa san, stood at the front door and waved us off.
And then there was just the two of us again. The two Amigos’ didn’t really have the same ring to it but Naoko and I still had each other, and that counted for a lot. I was a very lucky guy. Plus, it was only a temporary separation; at least that was the plan.
Cranking up some heavy metal tunes on the car stereo, I wondered how the next six weeks would go…
Would ‘Niigata life’ agree with Bicky more than Tokyo life? Would Bicky became more attached to Otoo San than he was to me? Would I be forgotten? Yes...some childish thoughts to be sure, but natural I guess…
“Oh well, I won’t accomplish anything by worrying about it, and there’s so much to do in the meantime…I guess I’ll find out in six weeks ”
BOY, DID I FIND OUT.
Chapter 13 will detail my return to Soumonzaki and the big surprise that was waiting for me there.