The Blanket Cats

The Blanket Cats
by Kiyoshi Shigematsu, translated by Jesse Kirkwood
272 pages, G.P. Putnam’s Sons (2025)

Find a copy:

• Bookshop.org (affiliate — supports this site)
• WorldCat (library)

I resisted this book for weeks.

It sat on the new books shelf at the library, and I walked past it again and again. The cover caught my eye: a patchwork blanket with two cats (one peeking over the top, one stretched out at the bottom), and a silver tabby wrapped in a similar blanket on the back, its tail visible from the front. I’ve read the Before the Coffee Gets Cold series. I’ve read Days at the Morisaki Bookshop. I know these cozy Japanese stories, and I know books of this type can get repetitive as publishers try to churn out bestsellers. But Dot is a blanket cat, and eventually I succumbed. It’s a small book, just larger than my iPad mini, and short at 272 pages.

What surprised me most was the variety, and I don’t mean just that there are seven cats and seven stories. They are each so different from each other, I double-checked to see if this was an anthology. It’s not. Each story explores distinct emotional terrain: the weight of caring for aging loved ones, the complexity of grief and learning to see beyond someone’s surface, children navigating change they can’t control and the adults trying to help them through it. The cats are as varied as the humans they encounter.

I’ve been immersed in Japanese culture for over 30 years, but my language skills remain at extreme basics. I know there are layers in these stories I didn’t fully grasp, cultural and linguistic nuances that would deepen the reading and things I know are lost in the English translation. That said, Kirkwood’s translation reads smoothly. That’s part of what makes the book interesting. It rewards cultural knowledge. And yet, universal themes come through and leave anyone with something to think about: loss, connection, second chances, the ways we care for each other and fail each other and try again.

I read it over three days and two nights, the same amount of time you can rent a cat in Japan. In the book’s world, cats come with blankets that carry their scent, helping them adapt to unfamiliar homes. Each person renting a cat has different reasons, different needs, different expectations of the experience. For some, this rental period works out better than others. I read the stories whenever I had a moment, or found myself stuck with Dot curled on my blanket covered lap. To my surprise they’re staying with me, a bit like cat fur. I keep thinking about the cats and the people they met.

If you’re looking for comparisons to other cat-centered Japanese fiction: I haven’t read We’ll Prescribe You a Cat yet, so I can’t speak to that one. I had to return The Cat Who Saved Books before I finished it. I’ll get back to it someday. But I read The Travelling Cat Chronicles back in 2019 and wrote in my notebook at the time, “Ouch this hit me in all the pieces. Moving. Haunting.” The Blanket Cats has a different touch than that, but it still lingers. It’s a little rough and not as polished, more like a soft nip on the back of your hand than a cuddled in deep purr.

After I finished reading, I skimmed some reviews online. I saw comments lambasting the Britishisms in the translation (car park, apparently). Honestly, I didn’t notice. But if that sort of distinction causes you to dismiss a story, I’ll keep my thoughts about that to myself and calmly suggest you read something else.

I encourage you to read it with an open mind. It may surprise you.