Kiki & Jiji

Chapter 5 – Jiji's brush with death

A PAIR of paws kicked Kiki in the nose and shoved her away.
    ”Enough, already,” the puppy groaned.   ”I can do it myself.”
    Surprised, Kiki lost her grip and dropped it on its head.
    ”Oh, no,” she cried.  She’d saved it and now she’d killed it.  Snatching the puppy off the ground, she placed her ear to its chest.  Still breathing, but not very well, and not much thanks to Kiki.  This time the puppy didn’t say anything.  It lay still in her hands with its eyes closed.
Kiki ran for the park exit.  She knew what to do.  There was a veterinarian’s office three blocks away and not a single heartbeat to lose.
    ”Help us,” she yelled at the animal doctor wearing blue striped pajamas.
    Angry at being yanked from his warm bed above the office, he scowled at the little girl.  ”What’s the problem?”
    ”It fell.  It’s dying.  Save it,” she ordered, holding out the puppy.
    The vet started to object, saw the determination on the child’s face, and took the animal into his examination room.  ”Wait here,” he said and closed the door.
    Kiki waited exactly thirty-four minutes but it seemed like forever.  She jumped up as the vet returned carrying a small bundle.  He handed her the puppy wrapped in a hand towel.
    ”Is it OK?” she asked, uncovering the dog’s face.  ”It doesn’t look very OK.”
    ”I’ve done everything I can,” he said.  ”It had a heart attack.  I gave it a shot to keep it alive.”
    The puppy opened its eyes weakly, looked at Kiki and closed them again.
    ”You didn’t answer my question.  Is it going to be all right?”
    ”I took X-rays.  It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.  The heart looks completely round.”  He shook his head, still upset at being dragged from sleep so early in the morning.  ”Anyway, to answer your question.  No, it’s not going to be OK.  It’s going to die.”
    The vet shrugged as the door slammed behind the girl.  He slowly climbed the staircase to his bedroom.
    A deliveryman, and later closer to home, a paperboy stopped to watch the girl hurrying down the sidewalk.  Both wondered what she so carefully carried and why she looked so sad.
    Kiki wrapped the puppy in a silk coverlet and set it in the center of the carpet in her bedroom.  Near its nose she placed a saucer of water, slightly farther away a dish of cold, boiled rice.  The puppy didn’t move and neither did Kiki.
    Her father found her hours later lying next to the puppy gently stroking its head.
    ”What have you got there?”  He knelt on the carpet to get a better look at a tiny face poking from the light green coverlet.
    His daughter kept her eyes on the animal.  ”She won’t wake up and the vet, he was so mean, he said she’s going to die and I don’t know what to do...” Kiki seemed to burst with concern, all her worries tumbling out.
    ”Looks like you’re doing the right thing,” her father said, touching her lightly on the shoulder.  He really hadn’t understood her explanation but now wasn’t the time for questions.  ”I’m sure the puppy will be fine,” he said, heading for the kitchen to make Kiki’s breakfast.
    Kiki watched the puppy for the rest of the morning and all afternoon.  Her father brought her food and took her place when she went to the bathroom.  She petted the dog and constantly offered encouragement.  At 2 a.m., her father went to bed and suggested she try to do the same.
    ”Please don’t die,” Kiki whispered.  ”You’re tough, you can do it.  I’m sorry I dropped you.  Come on, you’ve slept enough.  It’s time to wake up...” She drifted into sleep, nose-to-nose with the puppy.

Chapter 6 – Kiki's big surprise

KIKI WOKE to a strange noise.  It wasn’t the sound of the paperboy or the song of early rising birds.  It was a quiet, safe little noise.  Half asleep, she yawned, noting her back hurt.  ”Oh,” she exclaimed, remembering where she was and why.  Her eyes flew open and she smiled with joy.  The noise was coming from the little puppy.  It was lying next to her cheek, face in its paws. It was snoring, and snoring was good!  Just sleeping not dying!
    She freed herself from her covers as quietly as she could and sat up.  As much as she didn’t want to disturb the puppy she couldn’t resist reaching out and gently stroking its back.  The snoring stopped. 
    Jiji had more trouble than Kiki remembering where she was.  Of course she did—she’d never been in Kiki’s living room.  Remembering only bad things, scary and dangerous things, she opened her eyes just a little bit, to tiny secret slits.  She looked around cautiously.  Indoors.  She liked that—it was warm and felt safe.  But she wasn’t alone.
    Kiki leaned down—face-to-face—and whispered, “Are you awake?” She felt the puppy relax under her touch.
”Didn’t you talk yesterday?” She thought she remembered the dog speaking but now she wasn’t sure.  It was impossible really.
Jiji opened her eyes in wide surprise and stared at Kiki, No one—no dog, no human, had ever understood her.  It was exciting.
    ”That’s OK,” Kiki said, patting the puppy on the head.  Jiji rolled on her back and Kiki took the hint and scratched her on the stomach.  ”I don’t care if you can talk.  It was probably just a dream.”
    Jiji wriggled under the girl’s attentions and groaned, “A little lower, please.”
Kiki shrieked, surely loud enough to wake her father, “I knew it, I knew you could talk!”
    Jiji smiled in that funny, wrinkly way some dogs do.  She would have cried if she could.  At last, someone could hear her.  She wasn’t all alone anymore.  ”Only you, only you,” she whispered, and began to explain the best she could.  ”My name is Jiji and I...”
    At a little past 7 a.m., Kiki’s father stood in the doorway outside the living room listening to his daughter talk to the puppy.  It was an unusual conversation, if you could call it that.  She spoke, the puppy barked, she spoke, the puppy barked.  A little weird he thought, but she sounded happy.  The dog must have recovered.  He shook his head, knowing he was going to let her keep it. 
    ”You’d better hustle it up,” he warned, “You’ve got school today.”
School!  What was she going to do? ”I can’t leave her all alone.” Kiki begged.
Her father made a quick trip to the kitchen, returning with the morning newspaper.         ”Sure you can. Make a little pen in the corner of your room and cover the floor with newspaper.”
    Kiki shook her head but took the paper from her dad.  ”I don’t know...”
    ”She’ll be fine. After she gets a little older you can get rid of the pen and move the papers out on the balcony.”
    ”Sounds cool to me,” Jiji said.  ”Don’t forget food and water.” The puppy licked her lips, “Lots and lots of food.”
    Kiki smiled.  ”Well if it’s OK with you, it’s OK with me.”
    Her dad laughed, “So the dog can talk, huh?”
    Kiki was startled.  He could hear the puppy, too?  A quick look at his face told her the opposite.  He was just teasing.  She made a quick and wise decision—no one must ever know.  ”Dogs can’t talk, everybody knows that.” She winked at Jiji and smiled.

Chapter 7 – Dog lessons

KIKI RACED home from school, stopping only to pick up supplies at a pet store a few blocks from her apartment.  Jiji had been alone for the whole day; trapped in the cardboard box her father had given her.
    She cracked open the door just a little to take a peek, trying not to make any noise. No luck. Jiji’s ears were so much better than hers. Little claws scrabbled on cardboard—and there she was, her head hanging over the edge of the box. “Let me out, let me out,” the puppy whined.
    Kiki plopped down on the carpet and lifted Jiji from the box. “So what’d you do all day,” she asked.
    Jiji wriggled out of her hands and ran around the room. “What did you expect me to do? I slept and I peed and I ate. And then I slept and—“
    “OK, I get the point,” Kiki said. “Look,” she held out a bag. I bought you some presents.”
    Jiji ran over and sniffed the bag. “There’s food in there?” It was a rhetorical question—even through the plastic wrap she could smell puppy dog bones.
Kiki dumped the contents on the floor. “Yes, I got you snacks, a leash, and even a sweater. What do you think?”
    “Gimme one of those snacks you’re talking about,” Jiji growled.
    “Don’t be rude.” Kiki held up the snack and commanded, “Speak!”
    “Gimme!” Jiji said, losing patience.
    “No. You have to bark like a regular dog when I say ‘Speak!’”
    Jiji shook her head. “Do other dogs beg like that?”
    “Sure, all the time. They like it.”
    “So being a dog means I gotta cringe and beg and humiliate myself and I’m supposed to like it?”
    “Pretty much.”
    Jiji sighed, cleared her throat and barked.
    Kiki laughed. “I didn’t say cough. That was pathetic. Try again.”
    The puppy lay down on the carpet, put her paws over her eyes and said, “I’m not hungry anymore. You eat it.”
    Kiki quickly gave in. “OK, how about it you just say please?”
    “Please!” Jiji leaped across the carpet and grabbed the treat out of Kiki’s hand.
    “Don’t eat so fast,” Kiki warned.
    Jiji growled, and speaking out of the side of her mouth as she chewed, said, “Dogs always eat fast. We think it’s the last food we’re ever gonna get and somebody might take it away.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I don’t know. I just know. It’s a dog thing.”
    As Jiji licked her lips, Kiki held up the leash.
    “What’s that?” Jiji asked, nosing the strange object. She didn’t the smell or look of it.
    “Your wear it when we go outside. It keeps you safe. Here, let’s put it on and you’ll get the picture.”
    “Whoa, hold it,” Jiji, said, struggling and almost nipping at Kiki’s fingers as she tried to get her front paws through the harness. Kiki stroked her back. “Trust me. It won’t hurt. See that’s not so bad.” She put the dog down on and the carpet and let her run around the room, trailing the leash behind her.
    Jiji returned and asked, “Fine, I’m wearing it. But what’s the point? I’ll just trip over it.”
    Kiki picked up the leash. “Not if I’m holding the end, like this. See?”
Jiji plopped herself down on her belly on the other side of the room. “I get it. I go where you want to go, not where I want to go. You’re the master and I am the slave.”
    “Come here,” Kiki ordered, deciding it was time for a lesson in discipline.
    Jiji shook her head, hunched down in the carpet and refused to budge.
    “Come,” Kiki said, a bit louder this time.  Jiji stared at her but didn’t move. “You gotta do what I say. Those are the rules. Come here!”
    Jiji didn’t want to obey. She wanted to stay right where she was. But Kiki’s voice was irresistible—she wriggled forward on her stomach, unable to stop herself, until she was halfway to Kiki. Again she plopped down on the carpet and tried to hold out against the VOICE.
    Kiki laughed. “Nice try. Come here.”
    Resistance was futile and quickly forgotten. She raced across the carpet and licked Kiki’s face, happy just to be loved.

Chapter 8 – Jiji visits Asakusa

TWO WEEKS later Kiki’s father said he thought Jiji was strong enough for her first trip outside. She certainly was fatter. A steady died of puppy chow had nearly doubled her weight. Her coat was glossy and her eyes were bright with excitement.
    “Let’s go. Let’s go,” she barked, trying to crawl up Kiki’s leg.
    “OK, but ya gotta get dressed first,” Kiki said. “You can’t go outside naked. It’s chilly outside.”
    She carried Jiji to the elevator and they rode nine floors down to the street. Jiji, clad in her yellow duck outfit—hood with orange beak and wings affixed to her—sniffed. And sniffed, and sniffed. Everything smelled wonderful. She smelled grass and trees and dogs—lots of dogs. It was overwhelming. After her confinement in the apartment, she nearly swooned. Wagging her tail, yelping, she pulled against her leash and yelled at Kiki. “Hurry up, I want to run—run, run, run.”
    Kiki let herself be dragged behind the excited puppy for as long as she could. Finally, she collapsed at a bus stop to catch her breath. Pulled up short, Jiji objected, “Why are we stopping? What’s the delay? Can’t you go any faster? Let’s go. Run fast!”
    Kiki laughed. “No run-run. It’s time for rest-rest. And it’s also time to figure out where we’re going. Got any ideas?” It’s Saturday. We’ve got plenty of time.
    “Don’t care,” Jiji panted, her tongue hanging out. “Just want to go-go.” She sniffed at a corner of the bus stop bench, squatted and took a token pee. “Oh, this is just so much fun.”
    “We’ll maybe for you,” Kiki said, starting off at a much reduced pace. “But running, sniffing and peeing isn’t my idea of a perfect day. Why don’t we go visit Grandma Tomoko? She’d love to meet you.”
    “Does she live near here?”
    “Not really. She lives across the river. We have to take the train. You can hide under my sweatshirt.”
    The grandmother in question was the “nice” one—her father’s mother. The other one, the one supplied by the long-gone mother had never shown any interest in Kiki, any interest in anything but pachinko and sake. Like mother, like daughter—Kiki’s mother had abandoned her in the canned food aisle of a discount warehouse. At first she lay quietly in her stroller, looking up at cases of creamed corn stacked to the rafters. Eventually, she cried. Store employees found her with her name and father’s work phone number written with a felt-tipped pen on Kiki’s forehead. To this day, she refused to eat canned corn and canned food in general made her queasy.
    “Now be quiet,” she whispered, as she zipped the puppy inside her sweatshirt. “And try not to wiggle around too much.” She bought a single ticket and waited on the Tozai Line platform and waited until the train arrived. As she stepped aboard, Jiji kicked her hard in the stomach. “What’s happening?” It’s too dark in here. Let me out.”
    Kiki moved as far from the other passengers as possible. The train wasn’t crowded and she could rub the impatient lump without attracting attention. “Shhh. Next time I’ll buy you a dog carry bag and we can travel in style. You’ll like it—they even little windows.”
    “I’ll still hate it. Let me out,” the lump grumbled.
    Jiji kicked her again and Kiki almost lost her patience. “Stop that, you baby. We’ve still got a long way to go. Just relax.”
    Kiki’s tone of voice did the trick. After a slight whine and a getting-comfy wriggle, Jiji began to snore.
    Grandma Tomoko lived in Asakusa.  It was a this-and-that and everything you could imagine type of place. Old wooden houses sagged against dilapidated shops selling cutlery and plastic food. Sun blocking, skyscraping offices lorded over tiny shrines that seemed to inhabit every nook and cranny. Her neighborhood was one of the last bits of what was called old Tokyo. Tourists, foreign and domestic, clogged the narrow alleys. A pair of country bumpkins watched a woman in kimono and wooden clogs splash water over cobblestones in front of her house to keep the dust down. The tourists from Ibaraki elbowed each other and nodded knowingly: This is how it used to be.
    Kiki climbed the stairs out of the subway station and walked around the corner to a less busy street. She attached Jiji’s leash and set her down on the pavement. The puppy shook herself vigorously to get the kinks out, tripped and fell over. Kiki laughed, and Jiji, to hide her embarrassment, barked loudly, “Where to!”
    “Turn left at the next corner.”
    Jiji charged ahead and Kiki lost her grip on the leash. “Stop!” she screamed, as the dog disappeared around a building. Terrified the puppy would be hit by a car, she began to run. She didn’t have to go far. Jiji had stopped to investigate a bundle of rags and plastic on the sidewalk in front of a cigarette shop. She stood on top of the rags and sniffed.
    Kiki crouched down and whispered, “Don’t make any noise, just get down from there and come here.”
    “What’s wrong? Why are you whispering?” Jiji crawled forward on her belly determined to investigate the lump. She found something interesting—sniff, and oh, no! Lick!
    “Arrrgh,” the plastic and paper moaned. It moved fast—herky-jerky bobble-headed.     Jiji blasted off the pile in fright and landed in Kiki’s arms. An angry gargle-gargle voice chased them down the street.
    “What was that?” Jiji squeaked, still shaking in fear.
    “Just an old lady. She lives there, in that place. You gotta be careful.’’
    “I thought I smelled—“
    “I don’t want to know. “
    “Why is she all wrapped in plastic and newspapers? She doesn’t look like a proper person at all.”
    “That’s because she’s not a proper person, not anymore at least. She just drinks and sleeps on her corner. It’s not her fault. Don’t lick her on the nose again. She doesn’t want you.”
    “Put me down” Jiji demanded.
    “No. Grandma’s place is right over there.