We have got into the business of trekking around doctors’ offices, getting tests etc. Today Husband had to get a blood test done. After a stressful few minutes trying to squeeze into the small, congested parking lot outside, he went to see his “favourite lady” who works for a medical lab.
By the way, it’s funny. The woman who takes blood, ensconced in a small and neatly organised office (hardly room to swing a cat!) has a severe manner at first. It’s quite daunting. Having visited her a few times recently, we have come to realise that this is her “professional face,” unsmiling. She reminds one of one’s least favorite teacher at primary school. However, after a few minutes sitting in her mini-office, this demeanour completely dissolves. The last time I was there getting a blood test myself, she started singing along to a song on the radio as she was working, a sweet smile on her face. She did the same thing to my husband today. He emerged smiling, with warm goodbyes on both sides. Yes, she had melted again. (But of course, my husband could melt anyone with his charm).
While I was waiting outside the tiny office, I watched the television, perched on high to keep patients amused. It was a story aired on the local television station (and therefore likely an inexpensive “filler”) about a down-on-his-luck samurai in the old days of Edo (the old name for Tokyo). He had a permanent frown on his face. Humans helped (or didn’t help) him, but then a white cat with round black eyes came into his life. He started caring for it.
I was enchanted by this simple (some would say “cheesy”) story. I remembered how important cats (neko) are to the Japanese culturally; they are always good luck. Maneki Neko, or “welcoming cats,” are white and have little red ribbons round their necks, just like the one in the TV story. Here’s a lovely article about Japanese cats.
Just like the lady taking a little sample of my husband’s blood, the gloomy samurai melted into a smile.
Thanks for this charming vignette, Emma.