Mornings Without Mii

In this soulful account, Inaba (1950–2014) recounts her 20-year relationship with her cat, Mii. After finding an abandoned kitten on a Tokyo fence one evening, Inaba impulsively decided to take it home with her. “Maybe it was because my defenses were down,” she writes. “I set off walking without a second thought.” As financial stresses started to fracture Inaba’s marriage, the author took solace in her pet, pulling herself through drunken nights of self-loathing with “the sight of Mii waiting patiently for me in the dark.” The book’s middle section rapturously recounts Inaba and Mii’s evening walks, their afternoons spent admiring the Tokyo skyline, and, as Mii started to fall ill, their meditative trips to the countryside. As Mii’s life comes to an end, Inaba avoids cliché, cataloging her newfound spiritual resilience instead of wallowing in grief: “My mornings without Mii would start tomorrow,” Inaba writes. “I might weep, but I wouldn’t mourn.” This is a must-read for pet lovers with sturdy hearts. Agent: Bruno Onuki Reynell, New River Literary. (Feb.)