This book is so clearly an ode to cats. From the way the author describes how the cats look, move, and sound, it’s evident that she is someone who has spent plenty of time not just observing cats but appreciating them:
- “As she pressed her round foot against the floor, a crease formed above her ankle, resembling the chubby wrist of a baby.”
- “. . . she nuzzled Shuta’s leg with surprising strength.”
- “Bee sat quietly as Shuta stroked her around the cheeks. The moment Shuta removed his hand, Bee licked her paw again and scrubbed herself more vigorously than before. It was as if she was displeased with how he’d messed up her hairdo.”
- “[Margot’s] lean, long-limbed frame brought to mind the muscularity of a light-weight boxer.”
The premise of the book is that there is a clinic in Kyoto that prescribes cats for people in distress. Each section of the book focuses on one of five patients at this clinic. Each has been referred by roundabout word of mouth and doesn’t quite know what they’re getting into, only that they’re seeking psychiatric help. Each patient is surprised to be prescribed a cat for 1 – 2 weeks, and each finds that the cat changes their life in unexpected ways. Shuta’s section is the longest and establishes the pattern the rest of the book will follow.
As the book progresses, we also start to get a little bit into the mystery of just what the clinic is and who runs it. It ends up incorporating a magical realism element that I was eventually able to see coming but also seemed unnecessary. It brought up even more questions, and I found myself wishing the mystery had remained unanswered.
Ultimately, this was a cozy, low-stakes book, but not one that is likely to leave a lasting impression on me. I enjoyed reading about the different cats’ personalities and seeing how they affect the patients they are sent home with, but the direct, matter-of-fact tone created emotional distance from the characters, and I didn’t feel very connected to them. Overall I rated it 3.25 stars, rounded down.