🐈 K’s COLUMN 039 : ３本足のタロウ
とあるゴルフ場に３本足の、タロウという名の保護猫がいる。
タロウの母親が別のゴルフ場からそのゴルフ場へ引き取られ、彼女が産んだ2匹のうちの1匹だ。
タロウの妹にはヒメという名の妹猫がいる。
タロウは元々３本足で生まれてきたのではない。
ゴルフ場にはイノシシが生息するため、罠が仕掛けられている。
まだ若かった当時のタロウがそのワナに引っかかってしまったというわけだ。
猫という動物は、他の動物たちに弱みを見せない性質を持っているため、かなりの痛みを堪えていたのだろう。
当時、ゴルフ場のスタッフが、タロウがワナに引っかかったことを認識してはいなかった。
彼らが見かけた時にはタロウが血を流しながら後ろ左足を引きずって移動してきたという事実だけだ。
そうしてタロウは引きずっていた足を、そのうちブラブラさせて移動するようになった。
その後、傷はさらに悪化し、足はほとんど機能しなくなっていた。
そしてある日、スタッフが見守る中で、その足はついに失われ、３本足になった。
見た人は仰天した。
実はその足はすでに腐敗して、そのまま落っこちたのかもしれない。
人間だったら大惨事、ゾンビだなんだと大騒ぎになるところだが、そこは野生の猫なので、おかげで生きているのである。
もしかしたらそれが日本では「化け猫」と呼ばれる所以か？
イメージとしては人間の左足膝下がない状態、と言った感じだろうか。
だから左耳の後ろを掻きたい時は左足の太腿をブンブン回す。
おそらく習性なのだろう。
耳の後ろに足が届かなくても、ついブンブンと回してしまうのだ。
私が初めて見かけた時にはそうしていたので、タロウの耳の後ろを掻いてあげたら、それはもう気持ちよさそうな顔をして目を細めていた。
毛の生え替わり時期だったので、大量の毛が抜け落ち、タンポポの綿毛のようにふわふわと風に乗って飛んでいった。
それを見た頭皮の薄いスタッフは
「お前はいいな、抜けるほど毛があって・・・」
と呟いているのが印象的だった。
そういうタロウは甘えるのが上手で、ゴルフ場のお客様の人気者だ。
餌をもらったり、身体を撫でてもらったりして、マスコット的存在だ。
一方ヒメは、人を見るなり行方をくらます。
本来はヒメこそが猫の本来の姿なのかもしれない。
いつだったかゴルフ場のスタッフが私に
「タロウを家に連れて帰って飼いませんか？」
と言ったことがある。
しかし私は丁重に断った。
第一、タロウを家に連れて帰ったところで、タロウが幸せかどうかは別問題だ。
家の中という決まった空間の中と、ゴルフ場といった自由な環境下でのびのびと過ごせるのはどちらだろうか？
それにヒメという妹猫の存在もある。
ゴルフ場のスタッフは、タロウとヒメに雨風を凌げる立派な小屋を作っている。
そして私が創作活動をしているため、タロウが絵を描いた紙の上に乗られても困るし、それが彩色したばかりの乾いていない絵だったら、お互いが不幸だ。
また、キーボードを叩いている最中に「ニャー」と言われても、作業を中断してまでかゆいところを掻いてあげることができない。
だから私は、たまに会った時に耳の後ろを掻いてやり、タロウを満足させてあげる方がいいと思っている。
🐈K’s COLUMN 039 : Three-Legged Taro
At a certain golf course, there lives a rescued cat named Taro who has only three legs.
Taro’s mother had been brought there from another golf course, and he was one of the two kittens she later gave birth to. His sister is a cat named Hime.
Taro was not born with three legs.
Wild boars live around the golf course, so traps are set in various places. When he was still young, Taro unfortunately got caught in one of them.
Cats are animals that tend not to show weakness to others, so he must have endured a tremendous amount of pain.
At the time, the staff at the golf course did not realize that Taro had been caught in a trap. All they knew was that he appeared one day dragging his left hind leg while bleeding.
As time passed, the injured leg became increasingly useless, and eventually he could only move around with it hanging limply behind him.
The wound continued to worsen. Then one day, while staff members looked on in shock, the leg was finally lost, leaving Taro with only three legs.
What happened was astonishing to witness.
Perhaps the leg had already become severely damaged and simply could no longer be saved.
Had this happened to a human being, it would have been treated as a major tragedy. People would probably have been talking about zombies and all sorts of horrors. But Taro was a wild-born cat, and somehow he survived.
Perhaps that is why old Japanese tales speak of mysterious “bakeneko” — supernatural cats that seem impossible to kill.
To picture Taro’s condition, imagine a person missing the lower part of their left leg below the knee.
When Taro wants to scratch behind his left ear, he still swings his left thigh furiously in the air.
It is probably instinct.
Even though the missing leg can no longer reach his ear, the habit remains.
The first time I met him, he was doing exactly that.
So I scratched behind his ear for him.
He immediately narrowed his eyes with pure satisfaction.
It happened to be shedding season, and large amounts of fur drifted away in the breeze like dandelion seeds.
Watching this, one of the staff members, whose own hairline was beginning to thin, muttered:
“You’re lucky. You’ve got enough hair to lose.”
That remark has stayed in my memory ever since.
Taro is exceptionally good at making friends.
He receives treats, enjoys being petted, and has become something of a mascot among the golfers.
Hime, on the other hand, disappears the moment she sees a person.
Perhaps she is the one who behaves like a typical cat.
One day, a member of the golf course staff asked me:
“Wouldn’t you like to take Taro home and keep him?”
I politely declined.
After all, whether Taro would actually be happier living with me is another matter entirely.
Which is better for him: living inside a house with limited space, or spending his days freely roaming around a golf course?
There is also the matter of Hime, his sister.
The staff have even built a sturdy shelter where both cats can stay protected from the wind and rain.
There is another reason as well.
I spend much of my time creating artwork.
If Taro decided to sit on a drawing, that would be troublesome enough.
If it happened to be a freshly painted piece that had not yet dried, both of us would be unhappy.
And if he meowed while I was typing at my keyboard, I could not always stop what I was doing to scratch his itchy spots.
So I think it is better this way.
From time to time, I visit Taro, scratch behind his ear, and leave him happy.
That seems to work perfectly well for both of us.