It had been massive days, as I enjoyed every research and work for contriving a new machine. Of course, hunting a tank was no exception. Here’s the song which I was singing through that journey: ‘Tank, oh tank, you are the nugget of iron. Where are you now?’ Well, it might be true that things can only be better, if you’ve got a positive slant. ‘Found it!’ I spotted a ‘nugget of iron’ at the corner of a factory run by Miyazaki Midori Pharmaceutical., Inc, of which I’ve been one of regular customers. The ‘nugget of iron’ which perfectly fits my image of tank. That was nothing but a miraculous encounter. I didn’t lose any time in asking about it to Mr. Yamaguchi, an executive director, and his answer delighted my heart greatly: ‘We do not need it any more. It’s just a scrap iron, and I don’t even know what it’s for. You can use it anyway, if you like.’ ‘Yes! Lucky me!’ I shouted in my head, ‘Getting this is half the battle. All right, Atom, it doesn’t take long. I’ll make the best machine!’
Looking at the tank in the corner of the factory, I could visualise a retort machine, and further open out my imagination, fancying that ‘it could be similar to a real one, if I stick those octopus-like pipes, at least on the exterior…’ Then I started thinking about how to cool down the tank heated by hot steam. No doubt that steam would come from a boiler, and the only thing I need is cold water, which can be drawn from a water pipe. In brief, there should be no difficulty if I could just join a boiler and a water pipe to the tank. Iron can be welded to iron, and anyway, a boiler-man would help me when I buy the one at his shop…that’s easy.

My retort machine gradually took form. A boiler and a water pipe were already connected with the tank, and I could see steam fill up the tank, which then would be cooled by water. Perfect. Now is the time to try the machine. I put some packs of rice into it, and switched on. Steam slowly flew into the tank, and at an opportune moment, water was poured to cool it down. After a while, I finally opened its heavy iron door, with my heart leaping up. ‘Mm, it smells awesome. Taste would be as good as…’ I could do nothing but sink down helplessly into a ground, right after looking at inside the tank.

‘How come…?’ All the packs burst, and rice spread out in the tank with water. Broken packs, now floating on the surface of water, looked like something that suffered from floods, being sucked into muddy stream. ‘It can’t be so simple, can it? This is why the real one is very expensive…’ I tried to make sense of it, until I realised there was no time even to do so!
‘All right, some miracles have happened, taking me to this point, and they will. Believe in yourself! You are the GENIUS! You’ll make it! Wait, Atom, but not for a long time!’ I persuaded myself again. ‘The fight has just begun. This is your chance to show your ability. There is nothing I cannot achieve. It’s me who will win at the last!’
Strangely enough, I felt by this time as if I could see myself rejoicing at the victory. No hesitation any more. Rolling up my sleeves, I determined to do it.

I calculated it’s a good idea to delve a bit more into the mechanism of a retort machine. My only thought was to develop the visual image first, as theoretical aspects seemed too difficult for me. Although I was not strong in studies at school, I’m fortunate to have good reflexes. Thanks to the blood from my parents, nature endowed me with a rough sense that you could learn anything simply by reading it again and again, rather than trying to understand in the abstract.
‘It’s just same as learning languages. At first, everything seems difficult for a beginner. But as studying textbooks many times, you gradually obtain a good nose for grasping the meaning. Look at a baby, and how he finally gets to speak such a difficult language as Japanese!’ It was with this belief that I visited a library, and read a treatise over and over again without understanding it , until some images occurred in my mind. After a little while, a picture actually began to appear under my eyes and…I got it. I understood why packs burst in the tank, and how to prevent it. Pressure in the tank arises while it’s being filled with steam. But when cold water is added to cool it down, the pressure of the tank becomes different from that of rice packs: because a big tank gets lower pressure, small packs can’t bear it, and maybe, burst.
‘Which means, they won’t blow up if the pressure of packs could be reduced before that of the tank turns lower? But how?’ The thing is, the pressure goes up when the temperature rises, and it goes down when the temperature falls…The more logic you get, the more interest you feel.

And here’s another ‘interesting’ story, which seems false, but something that actually happened to me. As I had been going around with the tank for several years, making many mistakes but learning by trial and error, I began to feel life in the tank which became my friend, and he even talked to me sometimes.
‘Hi mate; I came to see you again!’ I greet him.
‘Hey, I was waiting for you!’ He answers.
‘Let’s get it over!’
‘Yes, mate!’
Three years had passed since our fateful encounter, and we became the best of friends who could understand each other very well. Day by day, I tried one way after another, digesting how the angle and the length of pipes affected momentum of cold water. Not surprisingly, it turned out the tank full of web-like pipes, bent in every direction, at every angle, and there was no room any more for another pipe to run through.

I was at the end of my wits, but it was around this time that the tank seemed to talk to me, saying: ‘Hey mate, why don’t you cool packs of rice first, rather than me?’ I thought about this. Seemed reasonable. Obviously, a lot of pressure was applied inside the tank, which meant cold water could not get into there successfully, and rice packs were not actually cooled down, no matter how many pipes you set. This would be solved by putting more pressure on cold water than on the inside of the machine, and what I should do next was to attach such a device to the tank.
I bought a big motor, prepared a large container to store water, and created a handmade device for sending high-pressured water. I tested, and to my surprise, it worked with superlative ease! My journey of ‘homemade retort machine’ got back on track at last. However, this was nothing like the end of the line, but just the starting page of my study and experience to make rice for my Atom.

I’ve done it! Done it! Finally, completed. Here we’d got rice for Atom. …Actually, I was content simply with this accomplishment. My satisfaction was great enough even at this stage. Every hardship which I had been going through these years recurred to my mind one after another, and I felt a lump in my throat. Tears fell fast. I sobbed bitterly together with my friend ‘Tank’. Rice which is now ready on the table was truly my treasure.
Right after that, I reported this to Mr. Kuroda, Mr. Yamaguchi at Miyazaki Midori Pharmaceutical, Inc, farmers, my friends and acquaintances, those of who had been supporting me a lot. Although they were delighted with my success as if it was their own, I felt lonely and empty, even harbouring some quiet antipathy. You may ask reasons, but I didn’t know what happened to my mind. Perhaps, I thought, my nerves might have snapped with maximum fatigue and anxiety, after such a long and all-out battle within myself.
It was hard for me, myself, to grasp where this ‘loneliness’ and ‘emptiness’ came from, so I reckoned that these ecstatic people could not understand either, and had been hesitating to open up my distress to them. Little by little, it became painful to suppress this emotion and put on an air of calm, especially among those who helped me and now rejoiced over my accomplishment. The only thing I could do was to cut myself to pieces, which further made me timid.
Everyone encouraged me wholeheartedly, saying ‘As it cost you loads of time and money, you should work hard to sell them. Of course, I’ll be always your supporter!’ Ironically, these words sounded like tearing apart my heart and breaking down a precious treasure. Beyond loneliness and emptiness, I was bogged down with a feeling of disgust.
‘Why should I sell this rice? This is only for my sweet Atom.’
‘How are they thinking about this sense of achievement and satisfaction?’
‘I won’t let it be just a tool for business!’

A rip current caught me. Rice was nothing but the treasure of Atom and me, seized after trials and tribulations, and now overflowing with unspeakable emotions. I just could not put up with people who would regard it as another target for trade. Although inwardly, I even thought if I could conceal our treasure completely, keeping it only for my Atom.
My heart had been full of troubles and pangs. Looking back to these days calmly from this moment, I understand how childish and ashamed I was. Perhaps, I might have been afraid of adding the commercial value of goods to this treasure made from my deep feeling and emotions, and I didn’t want to throw it to the society.

While I was undergoing the internal battle with myself, a dramatic event came as if driving all my servile away. It was at the lecture delivered by a certain public figure. As his talk went on, I felt my heart pulsing with deep emotion. Although this is not the exact draft but recollections drawn from my memory, I would like to share with you some part of the lecture, an unforgettable experience which swept away my timidity and inner struggle.
In that talk, the lecturer mentioned Mr. Konosuke Matsushita, a founder of Panasonic, well known as ‘the god of management’. One day, a journalist asked him: ‘You seem to make money just by selling goods from one place to another. Do you feel joy at this? Are you really happy?’ He answered, ‘No pleasure at all, because I’m not doing business for myself. If I quit my business and give up a profit, a lot of people becomes starving. That’s the reason.’
The lecturer also talked about an American millionaire called Meyer. When Mr. Meyer received a same kind of question, he replied that, ‘I can not help disadvantaged children in the world unless I do my business and make a profit.’ In fact, Mr. Konosuke Matsushita and Mr. Meyer have donated money to the Red Cross every year. In other words, they have protected tens of thousands of children from starvation.
‘I found in these exchanges how we should behave ourselves in the future, and also the greatness of human beings. I hope you could get inspiration from this story,’ said the lecturer. While listening to his talk, I held communion with myself again, and could clearly see what I should do next.
?My servile …how shameful I was! Remember your great wish and dream. After losing Atom, haven’t you decided to save dogs who are suffering from disease like him, and to prevent their owners from making same mistakes as I did? What about your dream to create ‘dog culture’, where I would live wonderful days with my dog? Did you also forget about people who have been helping you to achieve this?

?From now on, I will cast away my selfishness and egotism! Instead of looking into people’s faces and groveling in the dirt, I should be ashamed of such a way of my life! Start all over again from this very moment! Recall your original humane warmth, and take great pains to live as a true human being! …I determined to devote all my energy to bring out compassion in me, which was the essential part of human nature.
The lecture knocked the bottom out of my way of thinking. Thanks to this opportunity, I could break with the narrow mind to keep away my stuff from moneymaking, and take it as my significant mission to work joyfully for society in a warm and humanistic way. I made a new start with a fresh resolution.

Although I started fresh and put ideas into actions, my eagerness went around in circles, especially in a first few days. To introduce Atom’s special-made Rice to dogs and dog lovers, I thought it would be a good idea to have them stocked at a place where it could catch as many eyes as possible, such as pet shops, breeder’s houses, and vets. The number of these places in the Tokyo area was around 1300. I made a trip to each shop at least three times, except for those where I was turned from their doors.
Day in and day out, I continued to visit pet shops and vets. Of course, merely selling products was far from satisfactory, and I had great confidence that my Rice should not be treated just as other goods. As a result, a special emphasis of my sales talk was on explaining the concept of my products, as I intended to push my ideas and wills, rather than just to sell loads of goods.
However, through a lot of conversations with shopkeepers, I realized the difference of passion between me and people in society. Sometimes, I could not even help getting furious. Most of the sellers said to me, ‘The reality is different from your ideals!’.
?Customers demand something easy to buy and sell, and something which has a bland name in an advert on TV. Our job as a salesperson is to deal with goods that would meet the needs of these consumers. If some goods are put on sale with a bland name of a big company, customers just choose those products…etc. They didn’t have a deep feeling for dogs’ health and the discussion of what food should be like, it was out of question. I couldn’t find any regard for their pet dogs nor sincerity to think about health and a good way of life. I might be too passionate, too serious about dogs, yet…everything just disappointed me.

?But, there was no time to waste! Rather than making a futile attempt to persuade them, I want to develop my food more and more, for myself and for Atom.Little by little, I got back my energy. Precious memories of Atom flittered through my mind; he smiled with joy, putting out his big tongue merrily from his mouth.
‘All right! Let’s make such wonderful food that it could bring Atom back to life!’
I started to gather information, reading one book after another which had the word ‘health’ in its title, and going anywhere to discuss with people. It was at this time that fortune knocked at my gate by chance. I grasped the opportunity to meet a journalist, who had been interviewing natural therapists in US for several decades, at his own expense. He kindly accepted to introduce me to some of these specialists in naturopathy.

The deeper I talked with staffs at pet shops and pet’s hospitals as well as breeders, the more keenly I felt a lack of awareness for dogs in Japan. Big gap between my vision of dog culture and reality, the problem of dog food, and the difference of how we could coexist with animals and nature…each day went quickly with bitter disappointment. Nevertheless, instead of giving up halfway, I was struggling to transform these vanity, anger and sadness into a positive energy.

I looked back at my ordinary boyhood, mundane but pleasant memories in which I spent time with my dogs, sometimes going on a hike. By turning my thoughts toward the past, I could see the flicker of hope in myself, and open my mind to the difficult situation.
One of these days, my friend, journalist brought a great chance to me. He introduced me to Mrs. Hanna Kroeger, a pioneer of naturopathy in US. After packing for the trip, still half in doubt, I left for US. I finally found myself standing with my friend in front of the church, called ‘Peaceful Meadow Retreat’.
Between the gate and the entrance of the retreat were hundreds of meters long, and in the middle of the passage stood a prominent ‘weeping willow’, which was big enough to hide the building. It was producing a weird atmosphere, like a steep mountain that would keep off an urban insider. You might think its name ‘retreat’ pompous, but that word seemed to me suitable to explain the place. Although I had held myself in readiness for being her disciple, a sudden fear came over me.
?Am I doing the right thing? Is it really safe to come to this kind of alien place in the course of events? I might be out of place… Isn’t it something like a shady religious organization?
With these doubts, I followed my friend to through the gate, and headed toward the building. We entered from the front door, which was around the centre of the square-shaped house. We found a rambling room, as well as a space in the back probably for the kitchen. There was also a terrace next to the rooms.
My friend didn’t really care about my worries, and barged into the kitchen without permission. ‘Hello… Hello…’
While I was embarrassed by his careless greetings which sounded as if visiting his classmate, an old lady appeared from an inner room with her extraordinarily sparkling eyes.‘This lady is Hanna. Hanna, this is my friend, a shop-owner of pet food.’His introduction seemed simple and rather insipid. But thanks to it, I became free from care which had tortured me until yesterday, such as how to convey my ideal vision of natural food or improvement of dog culture; and explain twists and turns until that time, especially using my imperfect English. ‘Hi, my name is Oki. I’m concerned with dog food in earnest. Nice to see you!’ Without a sense of what I was doing, I said some flimsy greetings to her. When I realized my imprudence, Hanna walked toward me with a broad smile, and hugged me. She welcomed us from the bottom of her heart, while saying: ‘Thank you so much for travelling so far to visit me.’

We were shown a great deal of hospitality, which dispelled suspicion and anxiety about her, as well as emptiness, anger and sadness which I had harboured against Japanese society. This was the very moment when the cornerstone was set up for the food theory of Bigwood to come. A precious page of my life was opened.