When I first read about Tama, the Stationmaster Tabby, I wanted to be a Stationmaster myself. But then the glamour palled. Imagine having to greet so many people all day, every day, while still staying in a reasonable frame of mind.
“Even though passengers touch her all over the place, she never complains“, said rail spokesman Yoshiko Yamaki. “She is the perfect station master.”
His words made me think again.
I have enough difficulties with my own staff who want to get friendly at any time that it suits them. No matter if I’m asleep in my chair or in the basket in front of the fireplace, they disturb me with chin tickles and tummy rubs without so much as a by-your-leave. The prospect of total strangers daring to pat me on the head much less attempting to “touch me all over the place” is more than off-putting. Frankly, the thought makes me sick.
No way, Tama, I thought, you can be the Stationmaster. I’ll stick to chasing the trainset that the woman’s grandson rolls across the floor.
Still, thoughts of Tama’s glory would flit across my mind from time to time. The adventure of it all.
Sadly, the perfect Stationmaster has now gone, with cap, flag and whistle, to the Rainbow Bridge.
Farewell, brave little working cat, we can drive our own heavy locomotive when we meet at the Bridge.