This was such a cute book.
Gus being a hipster cat was hilarious.

I love cats and this book was brilliant.
I adored Gus and Toby .
A perfect short book.

If you’re looking for a collection of fluffy tales and anecdotes, this nook is not for you. It’s not for the faint-hearted either, as it contains some quite sad and brutal stories - so be warned.

This is essentially a memoir if you will, of the author’s life with Cats. She explores many aspects of cat life and how her own has been enriched by them, how cats can replace children. I don’t know if “replace” is quite the right word here, as it sounds as though the children are taken away and cats put in their place. What I mean is she explains why she has cats instead of children. And I wholeheartedly agree with her.

Having been owned by various cats throughout my life, my love for them has never diminished, even though my present one is what those who don’t know Cats, perceive cats to be - a Catty cat - she comes to me when she wants something (food), and lets me know when she’s in her Greta Garbo mood.

All in all an interesting read, but as I said - be warned. Would I recommend this to my cat loving friend? I don’t think I would. She prefers the fluffy side of Cats.

Cat, by Rebecca van Laer, is a lovely mini memoir of sorts where she shares a small window of her life with cats, relating to the science of cats, humanity’s history with cats, and a range of topics including having children (or not), capitalism, and caring for the world. These little vignettes from Van Laer explore who she is, and who we are as humanity, with and without our cats.

At different times, Cat is introspective, joyful, and grief-filled. It’s a short, warm book, perfect for a rainy weekend afternoon.

TW: van Laer does discuss animal cruelty and animal death.

Thank you to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for the eARC.

Thank you for the ebook and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it. I am a keen cat lover, and to see the journey and explanation of each cat and their impact and how they entwine was truly beautiful. Thoroughly enjoyed this read and how it opened my eyes to the way cats impact our lives.

Having never read any of the other books in this publisher's series, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. What I got was personal reflections about the author's various cats and how they intertwined with, affected, reflected and were projected onto her life. Van Laer occasionally included facts about cats, and how others perceive them.

It's a lovely book; it felt like spending some time with an erudite, introspective friend. And her cats.

Warnings: discusses cruelty toward cats, including active harm and neglect (not perpetrated by the author!). Also discusses cats as problematic, invasive predators which might run counter to how people usually think of them.

A beautiful reflection on our pet cats and what they teach us about life and ourselves. I was particularly moved by the chapters about losing your cat and how we cope and move forward afterwards.

Thank you NetGalley and Bloomsbury for the advanced ebook in exchange for my honest review.

I was not familiar with Object Lessons series when I picked up this book. Object Lessons are described as "a book series about the hidden lives of ordinary objects." and being an animal rescuer, I had to read this one.

Cat is a non-fiction story of a couple who move to a house with large windows because they want a better life for their cats. It's about their life with all the routines, decisions, loss and dilemmas. It's also packed with information about cats, referencing articles by researchers or written by philosophers.

I can tell that the author has poured her heart into this book and the short stories that she's included will make you cry or smile or both at the same time. If you're a cat parent, have a cat friend or you're just a cat lover, I'm sure you will enjoy this book as much as I did.

This book is able to explain the emotions we cat owners have for our furry best friends.

The stories about van Laer's own cats kept my rapt attention. She does a lot of the same things I do with my cats: give them an inner life that they may not have. I will often say that my cats are plotting against us or one another. I also give them silly nicknames. I also remember the cats that I was lucky enough to have in my life once upon a time. But, these are all seen as negatives or things that are worthy of mockery. By opening up and telling her own stories, it made me also feel seen.

This is an awesome book for any animal lover.

I usually wouldn’t gravitate towards this kind of book, but if life works out according to plan for me, then I will be a cat mom to 2 girls and then bugging my man for a stupidly chaotic orange cat.

I loved how this memoir spoke so fondly about cats and how they become so integrated in our lives. Even learning more about the history of cats was quite fascinating and I wish we got more of that in the book. It was an interesting image of using cats as way that we humans have learned to love and express it.

Thank you, Netgalley, for the ARC!

Obviously I enjoyed this little book of essays about the relationship between people and their cats. I recently lost my precious cat of 17 years and I myself have had many of the same feelings about my fluffs as the author does. Yes some of the issues with cats that she describes (feral cats) are hard to read but if you love cats then you need to grapple with them. Bottom line, if you love cats, this is the quick read for you. Thank you to the author, the publisher Bloomsbury Academic and #netgalley for an advance ecopy in exchange for an honest review.

As a cat lover, how could I not absolutely adore this book?

The author depicts the stories and lives of her cats, past and present, in a way that allows the reader to feel the love she has for them.

I will say that there are mentions of pet death in this book. I know this can be triggering for some.

Definitely giving my cats a big squeeze after this one.

This is a highly personal journey of the author through her life and how cats were often her guide. The relationship with her mother clearly had toxic consequences that permeated all facets of her life. But with her cats there was something so special. They often were the glue that held her together and past the many phobias she had developed.

She looks at her relationship, particularly with Toby and Gus through the lenses of what she thought she wanted and needed in life and through the lenses of what she thought was expected. She examined how they connected and compared it with the views of others. I think what she discovered when it was all said and done is that if we are lucky, we get to share the universe with the most amazing characters. Each is unique and our interactions are different. They are not better than one thing or worse. They just are. And if we are open, they will be our rocks and our centres and we will love them with all we have and they, each in his or her own way, will return that love a thousandfold.

Four purrs and two paws up.

I really enjoyed the beginning of the book and connected with the author’s heartfelt reflections on the love for cats and the differences between living with a cat and a dog. Partway through, however, there were scenes depicting cats dying in different ways. While I understand these moments may have been important to the story, they were difficult for me to read, and I chose not to continue. Readers who are sensitive to animal death may want to keep this in mind.

All books in the Object Lesson series have some element of personal reflection. this one is more of a memoir than many. It's not so much about 'cat' as it is about Gus and Toby (Rebecca's cats) and other cats she has lived with, loved and lost. Which is not to say there are not facts about cats scattered throughout this book - but that's not the point. This is a memoir, with the cats as a focus as Rebecca contemplates life, the meaning of work and what she wants for her future. I really enjoyed this, maybe because my story and my struggles are not too different from hers.

The “Object Lessons” series is a collection of slim volumes that look into anything, and everything around us. The first thing I thought when I saw this one was that cats are no objects. My assumption was that it would be similar to the “Snake” book, which included not only their biology, but their place in culture. It’s clear that the authors are given free reign about what to write, because this is a memoir. I love cats more than anything else in the world and van Laer clearly has the same opinion. She shares her life with her now husband and Toby and Gus, their feline companions. In this memoir, van Laer talks about them, as well as other kitties she’s known and loved. The rest is more of a philosophical treatise over the importance of cats and their place in society. How they can replace children, or how they are contributing to climate change. So that’s why I didn’t enjoy this read as much as I expected. Despite having a very similar outlook on felines, the rest is Millennial Angst. As a Gen X-er who grew up hearing how my Grandma had to dig in the dirt looking for roots to eat, how my Father didn’t own a pair of shoes till he was in college, I have little patience with the new generations’ imaginary problems. And that is a big part of this book. There is also a whole chapter that includes horrible cruelty towards cats. I did enjoy learning from Gus and Toby, the love and loss that all cat lovers know well. Their new kitty Milton reminds me a lot of my late Charlie. Five stars to the kitty content, three to the non-feline stuff.
I chose to read this book and all opinions in this review are my own and completely unbiased. Thank you, NetGalley/Bloomsbury Academic.

A stunningly lovely and profound meditation on love, grief, uncertainty, and the necessity of "divesting from fantasy." Rebecca van Laer broadens the boundaries of the Object Lessons series, turning object into subject and providing a lesson in no less than the inevitability of mortality. This book is philosophical and deeply personal, with a light heart and dark humor. It will stay with me.

I’ve been aware of Bloomsbury’s Object Lessons series for years, but this is the first time I’ve actually read one of the titles. I have no idea how representative it is, but I can say that I was impressed. Van Laer is a fine writer who skillfully mixes memoir elements with information and reflection on domestic felines. For the latter two components, she draws on works by philosopher John Gray, evolutionary biologist Jonathan Losos (who has a particular interest in cats), and professor emerita of English Katherine M. Rogers—among others. Also included are the views of Jonathan Franzen (a passionate birder and advocate for songbird conservation) and some stories about Doris Lessing and the Czech writer Bohumil Hrabal, two cat lovers who dealt with explosive overpopulations of friendly cats. Believe me, those accounts are distressing to read.

I particularly enjoyed the commentary on John Gray’s Feline Philosophy in which he outlines what we humans can learn from these animals in order to experience less suffering and greater equanimity. Like van Laer, I’m skeptical about Gray’s basic assumption that cats are essentially happy. I’ve seen cats demonstrate behaviours comparable those of traumatized humans. (I’ve also seen them slowly learn to trust.) Some are very sensitive to raised voices, any sign of distress in the people they live with, and changes in routine. One of our cats displayed ongoing agitation when her close feline friend died.

It should be noted that this is not a book about cute, fluffy “fur babies”. The author goes the extra mile to counterbalance her love for these companion animals with hard facts about their impact on wildlife, their tendency to breed uncontrollably, and the need to set limits on them. She sharply observes: “If dogs are our servants, cats are our shadows. On ships, across continents, in cities and in suburbs, trash dumps and nature preserves, they have followed us and our refuse, continuing our work of domination. We have fragmented the natural world; they have hunted in the cracks we create.” And, she concludes, they are perhaps “not so much domesticated by humans as accessory to us—not in the sense of a purse, but of a crime.” She is firm in her view that we can’t allow cats to have litter after litter, eat whatever they want, and—in short—“take over the world”; however, she’s also realistic about humans who don’t demonstrate much interest in their own negative impacts on the environment, never mind conscientiously managing cats.

The relationship between humans and cats has always been a somewhat uneasy one. The author comments that on average, humans do not like felines as much as canines. It’s not easy for people to admit to a dislike of dogs, a social species generally regarded as loyal and friendly, but folks often make no bones about their distaste for cats. Cats don’t obey or love enough; they’re independent, and they challenge you with their stares. They’re also more likely than dogs to be surrendered to shelters when a family member develops an allergy to their fur, even though a yearlong study from the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey showed that there are comparable levels of sensitization to cat and dog allergens within the US population.

It’s common knowledge that cats were domesticated in Egypt, where they were valued for their ability to provide rodent control and eventually made it into the pantheon of that ancient civilization; however, the author notes that there’s a fairly long history of humans hating them in the time since. In medieval Europe, they were associated with the Devil. Suspected of being witches’ familiars, they were often punished alongside the persecuted women, even burned at the stake with them. Afterwards, their negative association with women continued. “The idea of the crazy cat lady,” the author writes, “is alive and well in certain circles—the belief that the worst possible fate is to fail to reproduce and end up surrounded by nonhuman creatures you love.”

Van Laer provides a few telling details about the place of cats in her difficult childhood. She spent her earliest years in the company of two cats—the elderly Anastasia and a young Siamese named Zoda—in a Manhattan apartment. The family then relocated to Georgia, with Zoda “shepherding” the introverted Rebecca through the upsetting transition from urban to rural living. It was hard for her to adjust to Southern culture in general, and to make friends or even speak at school in particular. Soon enough, her tense and chaotic family began to unravel. Her dad was often away on business, and Rebecca’s mother appears to have had difficulty managing the house and the children. When her parents actually were together, they were embroiled in their own problems.

Barely able to control themselves, they certainly didn’t attend to Rebecca and her brother or manage the “endless parade of cats” they’d taken in over the years. The animals had gone unneutered, unspayed, and largely uncared for. Van Laer describes the situation as hoarding, with all the attendant grief and horror. Some cats vanished, and one, Tigger, was killed, presumably by a local dog. Rebecca’s sorrow at his violent end was dismissed by her mother who felt that the children really just needed to understand that the death of pets was a part of life.

The van Laer parents ultimately divorced, by which time the author never wanted to see her mother again. She chose to move away and live with her dad. Until the divorce occurred, however, she had clearly relied on cats for the solace that had not been provided by her parents.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, van Laer later struggled with anxiety and low spirits as a graduate student. A variety of pharmaceuticals for anxiety and depression were prescribed, but they offered little help. It was only when the author adopted a cat that she began to experience a sense of wellbeing. She named him “Gus”—in memory of the “best” and most beloved of her childhood cats, Augustus, who had sadly vanished—and she vowed to make up for the neglect her earlier animal companions had endured. After a number of failed relationships, she found happiness with a sympathetic partner, Steven, an academic with a cat of his own.

A fair bit of the book tells about the couple’s experiences with their cats Gus and Toby: their move from an apartment to a house, the death of one of the cats in old age, the intense grief that ensued, and their adoption of Milton (a very affectionate tuxedo cat with feline immunodeficiency virus). Van Laer explains how their animal companions have shaped her and Steven’s lives, including the decisions about marriage and whether to have children. She challenges Pope Francis’s disparaging remarks about the selfishness of couples who choose not to have children and give their love to non-human companions. Her response is forceful and well worth reading.

I find it remarkable that so much information and food for thought has been fit into such a compact little book. In addition to what I’ve mentioned above, the author covers feline communication and the unique language each cat develops to communicate with his own humans. There’s also some passing commentary on the following: the shelter system; the controversy over whether cats are really the fine hunters they’re purported to be; cats as political symbols; where the legend of cats’ nine lives may have originated; the health issues of pedigree felines; and FIV—feline immunodeficiency virus.

For me, van Laer’s book was a terrific introduction to the Object Lessons series. Yes, there is sadness here, but there are moments of humour, too, and one is left with lots to think about.

Thank you to Net Galley and Bloomsbury for providing me with a digital advanced reader copy.

This book was an interesting read! Joining the series: Observations, this short story follows the authors experiences with cats. Each chapter was it's own tale and was a quick read. I enjoyed the photos of her cats throughout the book.

This short memoir is an ode to cats and all of the joy and heartbreak they bring their human's. Rebecca van Laer shares her life through the cats that shaped her, and we get to see her battle with difficult life decisions - does she want to have children, or is it just that this is the societal expectation? This is a tender account, full of joy, sadness, and humour, and I found it extremely relatable. I'll definitely be returning to this one in the future.

van Laer grew up with cats—cats and dogs and, really, something of a menagerie. More creatures than humans at times. And van Laer loved the dogs...but cats were her first love.

This is one of Object Lessons—a series of short books exploring ordinary objects. Now, whether cats can be called objects is debatable—I don't really think mammals are objects, so I'm going to go no, but Merriam-Webster is actually pretty vague on the subject, so let's run with it. The structure of the books varies, and for better or for worse I have fallen head over heels in love with the ones that are mostly history and research. What can I say? I'm a nerd. A catless-cat-lady nerd, as it happens, so I was hoping for some catnip for nerds.

"Cat" is largely memoir: an exploration of the cats that have helped to shape van Laer's life, first in childhood and then as an adult. She explores competing stereotypes of cat lovers and dog lovers—and, critically, what she needs in her life to be fulfilled. Numerous cats slink onto and off the page, but she focuses mostly on two: Gus, the cat van Laer brought into her relationship, and Toby, the cat her partner brought in.

"I've heard it said that this is the key difference between pet owners: dog people wish their dogs were people; people wish that they were cats." (loc. 96*)

There's a lot of riffing here, which honestly feels kind of right for cats—I suspect that if cats could talk, many of them would be pretty selective about what they talked about...but a significant proportion would be good at riffing on whatever subject caught their attention. I could have used a bit more citation at times—there's a robust enough selection of references, but when van Laer suggests that people are more likely to return cats to shelters than they are to return dogs (she says this in the context of human allergies to pets, though within the context of the chapter it reads as a more general thing), I took myself down something of a rabbit hole to see what the data said. The short answer is that I still don't know, but one of the studies van Laer cites** mentions the opposite ("lower number of cat returns compared to dogs in study samples"), and one of the studies *that* study cites*** looked at 3,204 dog relinquishments and 2,755 cat relinquishments, suggesting that there are in fact more dog relinquishments than cat relinquishments (in Denmark)...though this does not tell me whether this is proportional to the numbers of dog owners and cat owners, or pet dogs and cat dogs, or dog and cat adoptions, and I don't know if those numbers are generalizable to the US, so actually my research has done very little except prove that I am, in fact, still a nerd. How's that for a riff?

At any rate. This is a nice little memoir for cat lovers—though with the warning that if you have a hard time with discussions of pet deaths (van Laer talks about more than a few of them), this is likely not the book for you. (I'm generally unfazed by that sort of thing, but know yourself and your reading preferences.) I think I'm left wanting an Object Lessons book about animal shelters—to complete the research I didn't finish!

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

** https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC9854428/

*** https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC7341242/

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.