Vaaska, the Jailbird

There are times when I find our dog to be the smartest dog in the world, and then there are times that I consider him one of the most hair-brained pets I have ever come into contact with: meet Vaaska, our Jailbird Dog.

This morning at 8a.m., I woke up to get ready to go to work. Part of my routine is to go downstairs and feed the dog before beginning the drudge of daily hygiene, however, today, when I opened the door this time, I did so to find our dog missing from the backyard!

Now, if you’ve seen pictures or video of the apartment we live in, then you know that the backyard is quite small, with six foot stone walls surrounding each side. Regardless of the fact that there seemed to be no conceivable way for the dog to escape his confines, he was most definitely gone. After standing there perplexed for several minutes, I finally called the Town Mouse down to help me investigate. Unfortunately, with no clues and only the knowledge that Vaaska is microchipped to console us, I had to start making my way to work.

On my way to the bike locker, our neighbor Fujita-san noticed and hailed us towards her. She opened the conversation by asking us if we were looking for our dog. Obviously this was a quick relief for us and we nodded enthusiastically. As it turned out, Fujita-san had found the dog in her own yard that night, looking quite pitiful, nervous and hungry, so she had fed him, assuming that someone had tossed him into her yard in hopes that he would be adopted. Only after we talked for a few minutes, we realized that he had squeezed through a narrow, seven-inch passage between our houses.

Unfortunately, the story didn’t end there, as Fujita-san, the night before, had forgotten that we had a Shiba-inu and had called the local police station to have him impounded. So.... Vaaska was at the police station. Luckily, Fujita-san offered to take the Town Mouse to the police station, so I was able to go to work without any further incident.

At the police station, the Town Mouse was apparently drilled for some time as to whether Vaaska really was our dog or not, but eventually, after she signed several papers, they released him. The funny thing is, this isn’t the first time our dog has attracted the police’s attention. When we were still new at Rapyuta in Kamigyouku, and were trying to house train the dog, we once spent about two hours walking up and down the street waiting for him to do his business. During that time, a concerned neighbor called the police to investigate the two strange foreign women and their shiba. The station sent a car with five officers, and a bicycle in the trunk, which the eldest officer used to patrol nonchalantly beside us. The whole time he was on his walkie, speaking in Japanese about how the unit was at Rapyuta, and they had seen us, but didn’t know what to do. I never let on that I knew Japanese, and eventually, they left without ever saying an actual word to us. Vaaska just loves causing mischief!