It seems that this is a common feeling in Japan
I was at an enkai late one night with four of my gaijin friends. We stumbled out of the restaurant and found our mama-chans to head for home. We were pedaling along a back alley when we heard a rather loud and persistent yowling. Being drunk, I didn't really think anything of it, but my friends stopped out of curiosity.
This back alley happened to run along a small canal
(or a very large gutter
) of the type common to Japanese towns. As we honed in on what sounded like a large cat, my two female compatriots
begin to exclaim "Oh, it sounds like it’s in trouble! We have to do something!" The animal also proceeded to get louder as we approached.
(Side Note: Both of these girls were excessively hot and I thought that my odds were pretty decent with one of them. In addition to this, I had recently watched The Tao of Steve and was eager to do something excellent in front of her. Being a little drunk only made this seem more logical and realistic. This is maybe a good reason to move this writeup to, Things men do when they are drunk and horny.)
As these two girls continued to exclaim their sympathy for the poor animal, I obviously volunteer to fish the thing out. I lie face down on the ground (its my nice shirt too goddamnit!) and reach my hand down into the canal. Now, while the canal is too deep for me to reach the bottom, it also has only a few inches of pretty slow-moving water running through it. I am wondering where this thing is and start to brace for the feeling of claws coming through my skin when my hand stumbles on a cold, wet, shivering lump of fur just slightly bigger than my hand.
This wretched little kitten was trapped on maybe a two-inch wide ledge at the bottom of the canal, just above water level. It is shivering and yowling even louder now, so I bring it close to my chest, at which point it digs its claws into my shirt and clings on for dear life. While the girls are cooing and oohing over the cat and my fireman trick, my other friend Joe has brought his bike to the edge of the canal. He turns on the front light and shines it into the dark water. I am not paying attention at this point, being to involved in the praise being lavished upon my ego. That is until Joe softly says "hey mate, check this out."
At the bottom of the canal, illuminated in the weak glow of the flashlight, are the bodies of more than a dozen kittens. We all just look at them for a minute, not really saying anything, just blinking. Then the one clinging to my chest digs its claws in a bit more (something that snaps you back to reality pretty quickly). I look down at this incredibly loud little bastard and say "well aren't we the lucky one." This kinda brings everyone back into focus and hottie number 1 asks, "so what're you gonna name 'im?"
I think about it for a minute and say "well, considering that I've already had a cat named Lucky, and we're in Japan and all, I think this one's name is Rucky."
So that's how I got my Japanese cat (and yes, he claws the hell out of my tatami, wood doorways, and paper doors). I also never had any ruck, er...luck with hottie number 1.