Akiko Shibauchi's "Colors of Memory" | The Dust of Komae Town and a Samoyed Family
LOUNGE | Akiko Shibauchi's "Colors of Memory"
The author has always interacted with animals as beings that enrich life, even before the concept of companion animals became common in Japan. This is a gentle, colorful essay from childhood to the present, as the director of Akasaka Animal Hospital and as an individual.
Text & Photograph by SHIBANAI Akiko
A White Family from Russia
Because my mother was very busy with work, I was often left in my grandmother's care. I was put to bed swaddled in a blanket late at night, and sometimes I stayed at my grandmother's for several days at a time, but I never felt particularly lonely. Around the time I was in elementary school, adults would tell me things like, "You must have been lonely, you're so strong," but I never felt that way. At the time, most mothers were full-time housewives, and it was probably an era when such assumptions were easily made.
I lived in Komae Town, Kitatama District, Tokyo at the time. The house was old but spacious, and there were many animals. Dogs, cats, and birds. Perhaps it was because my grandfather liked beautiful birds, but there were many with magnificent, beautiful plumage, like long-tailed tits and golden pheasants. There were several large dogs, including setters, German shepherds, and Spitzes. Among the cats was an orange and white one, an 'akitora shiro', about the same age as me.
During the day, there was no shortage of things to do. In the rich natural environment, I walked extensively on unpaved, dusty roads and often played with the sons of neighborhood fishmongers. I was quite young, so I think they were likely housekeepers, but there were also elderly women who served as what we would call nannies, coming on different days of the week. I called them 'Kojima's Grandma' and 'Otaki's Grandma,' but now that I think about it, they might not have been that old. I placed my utmost trust in 'Kojima's Grandma' in particular.
I spent my days walking on unpaved paths, experiencing wildflowers, trees, playing by the river, and feeling the wind and greenery. There was also a garden with carp in a pond. Since there were also poultry and pig farms nearby, I grew up observing various living creatures, including plants and animals, every day. When I hear the word 'original landscape,' I picture dusty roads, a river, dogs, and the setting sun. I imagine that many Japanese people at the time would envision a similar scene.
One day, large, white Spitz-like dogs arrived from Russia. They were Samoyeds, Russian sled dogs, and I was told there were only a few in Japan at the time. A certain family imported them, and for a while, they kept three or four of them at their house in Komae. One of them became our dog. Its pedigree name was 'Yapperboy of Tucktux,' and we started calling him Yapper. He was a loving, gentle giant who was very kind to me as a child, a playful, adorable, pure white large dog who would immediately expose his belly and beg to be petted.
An incident occurred (or so I was told much later). It seems to have happened at night. The Samoyed family attacked a nearby poultry farm. At the time, the dogs were kept outdoors, and it was likely an area that the large dog family could easily escape from. I was not told the gruesome details. The dogs were not at fault. They hunted according to their instincts.
The Samoyed family's hunt. I can only imagine what it was like, but it must have been very enjoyable for the dogs. For the chickens, it was nothing but disaster. Furthermore, for my family (my grandparents), it must have been a terrible ordeal, causing great trouble to our neighbors and involving significant compensation. I'm sure it was truly difficult. I am truly sorry to the farmers.
Large white dogs that would nuzzle up to even a small child like me could, when acting as a pack driven by instinct, behave in such a way. Dogs are said to have lived alongside humans for tens of thousands of years. They have been our companion animals since the time humans lived in caves. Now they are called "companion animals," and they are partners with whom we share our lives as if they were family. Moreover, the perception of dogs in society has changed dramatically in the last 40 to 50 years.
My feelings for Yapper remain unchanged. The beauty of Yapper, who was one year older than me, his long, white, shining fur blowing in the wind. His gentle profile, as if smiling, considering my walking speed and waiting kindly. Yapper is burned into my memory and lives deep within my heart. I am convinced that the facts and truth of our encounter will never fade.
I have lived with many generations of companion animals. I have seen many generations of companion animals pass away. Each time, I think, "Are they really going to leave?" Yet, I feel I have even learned the importance of letting go with a sense of peace, feeling pride in the way my animals depart with such clarity.
Akiko Shibauchi
Director of Akasaka Animal Hospital. After graduating from Nihon University College of Bioresource Sciences, she worked in research labs including at the University of Veterinary and Animal Sciences, before becoming director of her current hospital in 2016. As the third-generation director following her father and mother, she promotes veterinary medicine focused on companion animals and the "Human Animal Bond." Her specialties include internal medicine, general surgery, and regenerative medicine. She has also served as a former committee member of the Veterinary Council of the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries, and as a part-time lecturer in the Department of Veterinary Medicine at Nihon University's College of Bioresource Sciences. She is also actively involved in social contribution through veterinary medicine, such as supporting the coexistence of the elderly and animals, and animal therapy activities, with the lifelong theme of "creating a society where people and animals can live happily."