Paw to Paw

I spotted a chubby ceramic lucky cat sitting proudly on a low wooden bench outside a neighborhood sweet shop. It had its glossy left paw hoisted high in the air, practically begging for a high five. Naturally, I could not leave a fellow Tokyo icon hanging. I trotted over, hopped onto the smooth cedar plank, and stretched my white front paw upward until our pads met with a cheerful little clink. We held the pose while a gentle breeze rustled the shop's indigo noren curtain overhead. My paw is undeniably softer, but I am convinced our combined fortune-bringing power just doubled the afternoon luck.