By MANABU UEDA/ Staff Writer
May 2, 2021 at 12:00 JST
GIFU--Jagaimo sprints at a simulated disaster site with a sharp look in his eyes after hearing Chieko Uemura, his 48-year-old trainer, utter the “Search!” command.
He barks to notify her when he senses the presence of a nearby human.
The dog, taken nearly a decade ago by a local animal welfare group, routinely does extensive drills like this one, so he is ready to go at a moment’s notice in the event of a disaster.
After years of attempts, he finally became a rescue dog in 2017 after passing the qualification test on his 11th try, undaunted by repeated rejections.
But the victory has turned out to be bittersweet. Jagaimo, whose name means “potato” in Japanese, is already fast approaching retirement age.
Jagaimo hails from the village of Iitate, Fukushima Prefecture, which was evacuated following the 2011 meltdowns at the Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant. The story of his perseverance has found its way into a moral education textbook for young elementary school students.
Jagaimo was born in Iitate in June 2011, three months after the disaster.
His initial owner had to part with her puppies when she evacuated from the area. She asked Tsuneo Yamaguchi, the 69-year-old head of the Gifu-based nonprofit Japan Animal Care Center, to find them new owners when Yamaguchi was visiting the disaster area to provide help.
Jagaimo got his unique name from the potatoes that the center received as a present from his initial owner.
The four other puppies entrusted with Yamaguchi were adopted by new owners at once, but none turned up to take Jagaimo.
Yamaguchi took notice of Jagaimo’s outstanding athletic abilities, so he decided to train him as a rescue dog to search for missing people at disaster sites. He thought that doing so would help lift the spirits of people affected by the nuclear disaster.
But the dog was initially so wary that small sounds were enough to startle him.
“He became even more bashful as he grew, so taking an exam was out of the question,” Yamaguchi said, thinking back.
Rescue dog qualification tests are generally held twice a year in different parts of Japan. With a pass rate of only about 30 percent, the tests are never an easy affair.
What is more, the animal care center had never trained a mongrel into a rescue dog.
Jagaimo flunked 10 successive tests from autumn 2012.
He was taken on strolls in urban areas so he would get accustomed to human crowds.
His timidity settled down in time. He also made progress in searching for people hidden from view, and he finally passed an exam in June 2017.
While all that was taking place, the animal care center received messages of encouragement for Jagaimo’s hard work, but it also faced criticism. Some asked for an end to the training, which they said was too hard on the dog, while others said the pooch was probably unfit for the job.
“We didn’t have the option of giving that all up in the middle as long as we had the disaster-hit communities in mind,” Yamaguchi said, sounding somewhat remorseful.
Once he became certified as a rescue dog, Jagaimo was suddenly in demand. Calls came in for him to attend events, do demonstrations at schools and participate in disaster management drills. In 2019, he took part in the search for a girl who went missing in Yamanashi Prefecture.
The evacuation order was lifted in March 2017 for most parts of Iitate. The village government subsequently named Jagaimo Iitate’s public relations ambassador.
He makes visits home in spring and autumn to be reunited with Kimie Inoue, his former owner, who now lives in the prefectural capital of Fukushima.
“I find him so dependable every time I see him, like as if I were watching over the growth of my own child,” Inoue, 57, said.
Jagaimo’s life of hard work became the subject of two children’s books and a picture book. His life story was also taken up in fiscal 2020 in a moral education textbook for sixth-graders, which also describes how Uemura was torn between conflicting feelings as she went on training the dog.
Rescue dogs are generally only allowed to work on the front lines until they are 10 years old. And Jagaimo is fast approaching that age.
Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, he has lost almost all his opportunities to make public appearances, and he will also have to refrain from his visit home this spring.
“Better a disaster never happens,” Yamaguchi said. “But, if one were still to happen, I would send him on a mission.”
Following the nuclear disaster, the Japan animal care center took charge of a total 48 dogs, including some that residents could no longer keep and strays found on the road.
While most have since returned to their owners or died due to old age, the center in Gifu still keeps seven of them, including Jagaimo.
They are all likely to spend their remaining years at the center, Yamaguchi said.
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