Dirty Paws

I don't mind taking off my shoes before I come inside. I actually like it. I had a string of roommates back in Texas whom I'd convinced to follow this protocol, long before I ever knew I'd be coming to Japan.

But I'd never considered the problem of our shoe-less pets.

My third year in Japan, my wife and I moved to an apartment that had apparently already been claimed by a local cat. The first time we opened the door to go in, he appeared out of nowhere (as cats do), darted past us into the apartment, and made straight for a spot in one of the rooms where he curled up and gave us a look like, "it's about time you showed up to let me back in."

We assume he co-habitated with the previous tenants.

All the local kids knew him, and called him Byon (Japanese for "boing..." rhymes with "phone"). He was a good cat, so he remained welcome and spent most of the time hanging around inside, only popping out once or twice a day for a brief prowl.

But once our son was born, my wife, probably at her mother's directive, took to cleaning Byon's paws every time he returned from patrol outside. Whenever he scratched and howled at the door, she'd sit down with a package of wet-wipes and clean his paws to a mil-spec shine. I swear, she'd spend ten minutes on it. I always thought this was amusing, until she started making me do it, too.

I've lived with cats and dogs all my life, who had free run of both inside and outside, and this was new for me. I thought she was nuts, but since then I've found that it's not uncommon in Japan. My mother and sister-in-law clean their dog's paws after every walk, and I see people doing it everywhere I go. I can see the sense in it, even if I'd never bother with it if it was just me. Maybe she imagines that if it were left up to me, I'd also let chickens and pigs roam our apartment like some Viking longhouse.

So if you're one of those hyper-clean people, this is just one more thing you can obsess about. You're welcome.