The first cat cafe I visited wasn't actually a cat cafe but an indoor petting zoo in Osaka. By the word "zoo", I'm talking a few small rooms filled with an unusual menagerie of cats, dogs, kangaroos, a pig, an iguana and a llama. But I was just there for the cats.
Some of them seemed fed up. Flat ears and a hiss do not translate to "pat me". This seemed to be lost on some visitors, who persisted with pats. This wasn't quite the experience I was after. So I scoped out Wan Nyan Chu cat cafe in Shijo-Kawaramachi, in Kyoto.
There I was, hands sanitised, mandatory Japanese slippers on, a mango juice on the table, ready for cat time. And there they were, eight or so cats. All fast asleep.
I thought of buying treats and a milky drink to draw their attention.
But their gazes through half-open eyes told me they were totally uninterested in anything I could offer. I was just another person intruding on their eight-hour napping schedule.
Disappointment ensued, but I wasn't ready to give up. I'd heard the residents at Calico Cat Cafe, in Tokyo, were rather friendly, so I dragged my partner there for one last attempt to be nuzzled by some furry friends. Once again, I'd paid the equivalent of about $11.10 to spend time with cats no more special than my Persian at home.
Looking back, it was irrational to think the cats of Japan would be better than my own.
Hello Kitty isn't even a cat! In fairness, the cats were nice, some were even stunning.
They all seemed well cared for and were never short of a pat. But your own fleabag at home is probably a lot sweeter, and you can watch him or her sleep, free._AAP
