A story by Kenji Miyazawa,
translated by Eli K.P. William

Feline Office No. 6: A Fantasy About a Tiny Government Agency
by Kenji Miyazawa
translated by Eli K.P. William

Near the train yard for a small country railroad stood Feline Office No. 6. For the most part, it was a place for cats to inquire into matters relating to cat history and geography.
Since the secretaries all got to wear black satin robes and were deeply respected far and wide, if one of them happened to resign, all the young cats in the area—big and small, fat and skinny—would compete for their place.
Ah! But there was one rule. There could only be four secretaries at a time, so out of all those eager cats, it was always the one who could read poetry and had the best handwriting who got the job.
The director of Feline Office No. 6 was a big black cat named Boss Pusskin. He had grown a bit feeble in his old age, but the intensity of his eyes and his proud bearing were impressive, as if many layers of copper wire were stretched tight beneath his skin.
Now let’s meet his secretaries.
Secretary No. 1, Meowster White Puss,
Secretary No. 2, Meowster Tabby,
Secretary No. 3, Meowster Calico,
And finally, Secretary No. 4, the Coal Stove Cat.
Stovey, as the director sometimes called him, wasn’t born a coal stove cat. Originally, he might have been a tabby or an orange cat or even a white cat. It hardly mattered what sort of cat he’d started out as, because from his earliest days he’d had the bad habit of curling up for the night inside the nearest hearth where it was warm, so his fur was always sooty and pitch black from the coal, especially around the nose and ears, which made him look a bit like a raccoon.
And that is why, you see, other cats hated coal stove cats. But luckily, the director happened to be a black cat. So even though everyone said a coal stove cat would never in a million, gazillion years become a secretary no matter how hard he studied, Boss Pusskin chose Stovey out of forty other cats!
In the middle of the big office, Boss sat behind a table covered in a scarlet woolen cloth. On both sides, his four secretaries perched on chairs before their own little desks. To his right sat No. 1, Meowster White Puss, and No. 3, Meowster Calico. To his left, No. 2, Meowster Tabby, and No. 4, the Coal Stove Cat.
So what exactly does it mean for cats to look into history and geography and all the rest, you ask? Well, something like this.
Someone began to knock at the office door.
“Enter!” shouted Boss Pusskin, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning back proudly in his chair.
With their heads down, the four secretaries flipped busily through the pages of their binders.
Richy McPhat Kat entered the office.
“What do you want?” said Boss.
“I hope to visit the Bering Sea region to eat some glacier mouse,” said McPhat Kat, “and I’m wondering if you could advise me on the best spot. Well?”
“Right. No. 1! State the name of the area where glacier mice are produced.”
Meowster White Puss opened his big blue binder and gave his answer: “The Fusa River basin, in Nobaskaiya, Ustergomena.”
“The Fusa River basin,” Boss repeated to McPhat Kat. “Noba … what’s that again?”
“Nobaskaiya,” said McPhat Kat and White Puss together.
“Right. Nobaskaiya. Then what!?”
“Ustergomena,” said McPhat Kat and White Puss together once again. Boss looked a bit embarrassed.
“Exactly. Fusa River. Yup, somewhere around those parts should be good.”
“Well then, what kind of precautions should I take on my trip?”
“Right. No. 2! Tell us the precautions for travel to the Bering region.”
“Yes, sir!” Meowster Tabby flipped through his binder. “Summer cats are totally unsuited for the journey.” At that moment, Meowster Tabby stopped, and for reasons you’ll soon see, everyone gave the Coal Stove Cat a sharp glance. “Winter cats too must be most careful,” he continued. “In the Hakodate area they are in danger of being baited with horsemeat. Black cats in particular should clearly indicate the fact that they are a cat or in some cases they may be mistaken for a black fox and chased down in earnest.”
“Right, then. You heard him. Good sir, you’re not a black cat like me, so there’s probably not much to worry about. Just stay away from horsemeat in Hakodate. That’s all there is to it.”
“I see. And who is it that wields influence in those parts?”
“No. 3! State the names of the authorities in the Bering region.”
“Yes, sir!” said Meowster Calico. “Um, well, in the Bering region, ahem, there are two authorities: Tobaski and Genzoski.”
“I wonder what these fellows Tobaski and Genzoski are like,” mused McPhat Kat.
“No. 4! Briefly describe Tobaski and Genzoski.”
“Yes, sir!” The Coal Stove Cat had been waiting with both little paws inserted in a big binder, one on the page for Tobaski, the other on the page for Genzoski. At this Boss and McPhat Kat both looked enormously impressed.
But the other three secretaries glared contemptuously at the Coal Stove Cat and sniggered. In spite of this, he read the pages aloud to the best of his ability.
“Chief Tobaski, widely loved and revered. Although his eyes glitter with a piercing light, he speaks somewhat slowly. And Tycoon Genzoski. Although he speaks somewhat slowly, his eyes glitter with a piercing light.”
“Just stop there. That’s very clear,” said Richy McPhat Kat, and with a “Thank you!” he left.
As you can see, Feline Office No. 6 was, well, pretty useful for the cats to have around. All the same, exactly six months after this little episode, the office was shut down. But why, you ask? Well, as you’ve probably noticed already, the three higher-ranking secretaries just despised Secretary No. 4, the Coal Stove Cat. None more so than Meowster Calico, who desperately yearned to take over his assignments. The Coal Stove Cat tried everything he could to make everyone like him, but to his dismay it was all for naught.
For example, one day Meowster Tabby, who sat in the neighboring seat, laid out his lunchbox on his desk and began to eat, when suddenly the urge to yawn overcame him. He stretched out his little arms as high as they could go and let out a big yawn. Among cats, it isn’t frowned upon to yawn in front of your boss or teacher or anyone else for that matter. It’s considered about as impolite as twisting your moustache is for humans, so that wasn’t really the problem. Where Tabby went wrong was in bracing his feet against the desk, which tipped it forward and sent his beat-up old lunchbox sliding to the floor. It landed in front of the director with a whack, but since it was made of aluminum, it didn’t break. At this point, Meowster Tabby cut short his yawn, leaned over the desk and tried to retrieve his lunchbox, but it was just a wee bit too far away. When it looked like he might finally be able to get a grip on it, it skittered away from him, going this way and that, never settling close enough.
“Oy! You! Give it up. You can’t reach it,” said Boss Pusskin, laughing, his mouth full of bread. The Coal Stove Cat had just then opened the lid to his own lunchbox, but when he saw what had happened, he stood up quickly, picked up Tabby’s lunchbox, and went over to hand it to him. But Meowster Tabby suddenly flew into a rage and refused to accept the lunchbox that the Coal Stove Cat had so kindly picked up for him. Instead, he reared back and began to shake violently, shouting: “What’s this? You expect me to eat this? Huh? Do you? This lunch that fell off the desk onto the floor?!”
“No, sir. That’s not it. I just brought it to you because you were trying to pick it up.”
“When did I try to do that? Eh? I was just trying to push it under my desk because I thought it was insulting to leave it there in front of the director.”
“Oh. I see. I just thought that because the lunchbox was sliding about all over the place, you—”
“Are you trying to talk back? Huh?! It’s on now!”
Before the Coal Stove Cat could take up the challenge and settle their dispute with a fight, Boss Pusskin let out a series of snarls and hisses and tried to get between them. “Oy! Quit your squabbling,” he said. “Stovey here didn’t pick up your lunch to make you eat it, Tab old boy, you know that! By the way, I forgot to mention it this morning, but your monthly salary just went up by ten cents.”
When the director first started speaking, Meowster Tabby was hanging his head and listening with an angry scowl on his face, but by the end, he began to laugh with delight.
“My sincere apologies for causing such a ruckus, sir,” said Meowster Tabby, glaring at the Coal Stove Cat for a moment before taking his seat.
I must admit that I really feel for the Coal Stove Cat, don’t you?
Five or six days later, almost exactly the same thing happened again. But why, you ask, why were such silly incidents so common at Feline Office No. 6? Well, for one thing, cats are lazy. For another thing, their front legs—that is, their arms—are exceedingly short. This time the culprit was Meowster Calico, in his seat across from the Coal Stove Cat. Before Meowster Calico had even started work that morning, his pen went rolling across the table and tumbled onto the floor. Then, rather than simply standing up, Calico leaned over the edge of the desk, just like Meowster Tabby, and tried to retrieve the pen. But of course, he couldn’t reach it. And since Meowster Calico was exceptionally short, he had to keep leaning farther and farther over the desk, until at last his feet left the seat. The Coal Stove Cat couldn’t decide whether to pick up the pen for him, considering what had happened the other day, so he just sat there blinking helplessly at the spectacle, until he could bear to watch no longer and got to his feet.
But just then, Meowster Calico put his weight too far forward, flipped over, and landed hard on his head. Surprised by this terrible racket, Boss Pusskin leapt up from his chair and retrieved a bottle of smelling salts from the shelf behind him. Before he could administer it, Meowster Calico bolted straight up, and in a sudden fit of rage, shouted, “Coal Stove Raccoon! How dare you push me over!”
This time, Boss immediately tried to calm down the furious kitty: “I think not, Cali, my boy. You’ve got it all wrong. Stovey here just stood up to lend a helping hand. He never even laid a finger on you. Well, no point in getting worked up about nothing, is there? So, um, right! Back to Santontan’s notification of address change.” The director got straight to work, and Meowster Calico had little choice but to follow his lead, though he stopped now and then to give you-know-who a threatening glare.
And now you can see, I’m sure, how hard it was for the Coal Stove Cat. He had tried sleeping outdoors many times in an effort to become a normal cat, but in the night he would inevitably get a chill and a case of the sneezes that was so unbearable he couldn’t help but curl up in a hearth. But why, you ask, did he always get so cold? Because, you see, his skin was thin. And why was his skin so thin? Because this little cat was born in the peak of summer.
“There’s nothing to be done. It’s all my fault,” thought the Coal Stove Cat, and the perfect circles of his eyes filled with tears. “But the director is so nice to me and my fellow coal stove cats are so honored and happy that I get to work in the office, there’s just no way I can ever let myself quit! No matter how much I suffer, I’ll get through this somehow!” The Coal Stove Cat squeezed his paw into a tight fist as he wept.
Ah! But soon not even the director would stand up for him. For you see, though cats may appear clever, they’re actually quite stupid. And one day, the Coal Stove Cat had the misfortune of catching a cold, so that his ankles swelled up like rice bowls and there was no way he could even walk, let alone go to work. Forced to stay home, the Coal Stove Cat writhed about in misery like you wouldn’t believe. He cried and he cried and he wept, and then he cried some more, rubbing his eyes all day long as he gazed at the yellow light shining through the small window of the shed.
Meanwhile, over at the office…
“Hmmm. Stovey hasn’t come in yet,” said Boss Pusskin, pausing between tasks. “He’s late!”
“I bet he’s off frolicking at the beach,” said Meowster White Puss.
“Naaaw. He’s probably been called off to a feast or something,” said Meowster Tabby.
“Someone’s having a feast today?” asked Boss in surprise, unable to believe there could be a party or event of any kind to which he wasn’t invited.
“Well, I heard there’s a, um, school-opening clambake up north.”
“Is that so?” said Boss, and began to quietly stew.
“So why the Coal Stove Cat, huh?” said Meowster Calico. “Why is he the one getting invited everywhere these days? Well, word is he’s been telling everyone he’s next in line to be boss. And now he’s got all these dumb cats scared, so they’ll do anything to keep him happy, know what I mean?”
“That can’t be!” shouted Boss. “Really?!”
“I’m telling you, director. Honest to dog,” said Meowster Calico pouting indignantly. “Just try asking around for yourself.”
“Inexcusable! And I’ve been looking out for that rascal. Right then. I know just what I’m going to do.” After this, the office went silent for a long while.
On the following day, the swelling in the Coal Stove Cat’s ankles had finally gone down and he left early that morning in a good mood, walking through the roaring wind to the office. But when he got there, his binder—so precious to him that he always caressed the cover first thing when he arrived—had disappeared from its place and its contents had been divided up amongst the three neighboring desks.
“Wow, it must have been a busy day yesterday,” the Coal Stove Cat muttered to himself, but his voice came out faint and his heart was pounding in his chest.
The door rattled open and in came Meowster Calico.
“Good morning,” said the Coal Stove Cat, getting to his feet and bowing. But Meowster Calico just sat down at his desk without a word and began flipping through his binder as though he were incredibly busy.
The door slid open with a rattle and shut with a bang as Meowster Tabby stepped in.
“Good morning,” said the Coal Stove Cat getting to his feet and bowing again, but Meowster Tabby didn’t even spare him a glance.
“Good morning,” said Meowster Calico to Meowster Tabby.
“Morning,” Tabby replied, adding, “My, what a wind!” then immediately began flipping through his binder just like Meowster Calico.
The door rattled open and banged shut again as Meowster White Puss entered.
“Good morning,” Meowster Tabby and Meowster Calico greeted him in unison.
“Morning,” said Meowster White Puss. “Boy, is it ever blowing out there.” He tried to look busy as he got to work just like the other two. It was at this moment that the Coal Stove Cat stood up dejectedly and bowed without saying anything, but White Puss pretended not to notice.
With another rattle and bang, Boss Pusskin strode into the office and said, “That’s some serious wind!”
“Good morning.” All three secretaries stood up quickly and bowed. The Coal Stove Cat got listlessly to his feet and gave a bow, but his gaze stayed on the floor.
“Right then,” said Boss, his eyes avoiding the Coal Stove Cat. “Today we continue yesterday’s task of looking up the Ammoniak Brothers and answering questions about them. Secretary 2, which Ammoniak Brother went to Antarctica?”
The Coal Stove Cat remained there in silence with his head down, the workday starting without him, his binder gone. He wanted to say something about it, but his voice had abandoned him.
“The answer is Pan Polaris,” said Meowster Tabby.
“Exactly! Now give me a detailed account of Pan Polaris,” said Boss.
“That’s my job. My binder…” the Coal Stove Cat whimpered quietly to himself.
“Pan Polaris. On a return journey from an Antarctic expedition, Polaris died off the coast of Yappu Island and was given a burial at sea,” said Meowster White Puss, reading from papers that were not his only the day before.
Devastated, the Coal Stove Cat sat stock still with his head down, holding back his tears, his face a mask of sadness. Meanwhile, the other cats zoomed steadily through their tasks, the office getting busier and busier like water coming to a boil. Every now and then, one of them would glance at the Coal Stove Cat, but no one said a word to him.
Eventually lunchtime arrived, but the Coal Stove Cat remained motionless with his paws on his lap and his eyes cast down at the floor, not touching the lunch he had brought. At around 1:00, after lunch was finished, he broke down and began to sob. And for the next three hours or so, he kept crying and stopping and crying and stopping and crying some more. All the while, the other cats worked cheerfully as though nothing whatsoever were out of the ordinary.
It was then that it happened. The cats didn’t notice, but through the window behind the director, the dignified golden head of a lion appeared.
The lion watched them suspiciously through the glass for a while, before knocking on the door and bursting in. To call the cats astonished would be an understatement, and they crept fearfully around the room. Only the Coal Stove Cat, who had stopped crying, stood up straight.
With a loud, commanding voice, the lion said: “What in the world are you pusses doing? As if your lot needs history and geography, behaving like this. Well, the game’s up. Indeed, I order this office closed.”
In this way, the office was shut down.
Personally, I half agree with the lion.

Translator: Eli K.P. William

Eli K.P. William (b. 1984) is the author of The Jubilee Cycle, a trilogy set in a dystopian future Tokyo: Cash Crash Jubilee (2015), The Naked World (2017), and A Diamond Dream (2022). A Canadian, he has been a resident of Japan since 2009. He has published in the Japan Times, Cha, and Writer’s Digest, among other publications. His essays and book reviews have appeared in the literary journal Subaru. His translation of A Man by Keiichiro Hirano was published in 2020, and his short story translations have appeared in Granta, The Southern Review, and Kyoto Journal. His story “Lost and Found Babies” is featured in vol. 3 of MONKEY.

Author: Kenji Miyazawa

Kenji Miyazawa (1896–1933) was virtually unknown during his lifetime. Yet his stories, poems, and plays now enjoy an avid readership who appreciate his innovative language, spiritual and religious depth, and his profound empathy with nature. “The Restaurant of Many Orders,” in vol. 4 of Monkey Business, was originally published in 1924.

More stories by Kenji Miyazawa