Koga remained silent; the doctor tilted his head again.
“Hmm, if you insist, we can prescribe you another cat.” The doctor started typing on his keyboard. “We currently have another cat with the same therapeutic effect at our clinic.”
“Um, well…”
“Yes?”
“Isn’t it cruel to replace a cat so quickly just because it’s not working?” Koga asked.
“Is it? But if something’s not working, it’s only natural to replace it. There are plenty of alternatives, you know.” The doctor said this with a smile, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Koga couldn’t tell whether the doctor was referring to the cat, the medication, or HR issues. Nonetheless, his words struck a chord. As the doctor resumed typing, Koga felt a sudden rush of panic.
“Please let me keep that cat until the end. My wife and daughter have also grown fond of Margot, so I’d like to leave things as they are. I can put up with sleep deprivation for another eight days or so.”
“Understood. We’ll keep you on the same cat, but let’s adjust how you’re taking it. I’ll write you a new prescription, so please pick it up from the reception window on your way out.”
Koga took the piece of paper from the doctor and left the examination room. The waiting area was empty.
“Mr. Koga,” the nurse called out from the reception window.
He handed her the prescription, and in return, she gave him another paper bag. Inside was a worn-out cushion.
“What’s this?”
“That’s the bed the cat usually sleeps in. When you return the cat, please bring this along, too. Please make sure not to forget it.”
Her manner was unfriendly, but she made clear that the bed was important. She was much younger than Koga, but her demeanor put him on edge.
With the cushion in hand, Koga headed to the call center for the afternoon. He made it in time for the meeting, but he received audible sighs from Fukuda and concerned inquiries about his health from Hinako, which embarrassed him.
When he returned home, his gloomy mood dissipated. Natsue and Emiri were laughing in the living room—without him, as always—but Margot was there, too. They turned to Koga with the same smiles they wore for Margot. The atmosphere felt distinctly different from usual.
Margot had been lying stretched out on the floor, but she rose and made her way to Koga’s feet.
“Oh, Margot. Aren’t you a good cat, coming to greet your master like this?” Koga let out a proud snort.
But when Margot caught a whiff of Koga’s feet, her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she stood frozen with a look of utter shock that said, Your feet are so stinky, I’m stupefied! Even humans don’t display such blatant expressions.
“What kind of face are you making, huh?”
“That’s called the flehmen response.” Emiri held up her phone. “It seems animals do that when they smell something. Margot, do it one more time. Dad, let Margot smell your feet.”
“No, I don’t want to. My feelings are hurt. She’s acting like my feet stink.” How rude.
Curious, Koga smelled his own socked feet. After a day sweating in leather shoes, his feet emitted a pungent odor.
“Yikes! This is bad. No wonder the cat was horrified.”
“The reaction has nothing to do with smelliness. It’s how animals check out what they’re dealing with,” explained Emiri. “Dad, move your feet. I’m going to take a video of Margot.”
“Why?”
Even though he was being treated like an obstacle, he was thrilled Emiri was speaking to him. As for Margot, she was showing interest in the paper bag from the clinic. He pulled out a boxy pale pink bed. Its fabric was pilled, as if worn from repeated washings.
“What’s that? It looks worn-out,” asked Natsue.
“A cat bed. This little one can’t sleep at all at night, so I thought maybe she’d sleep on this. Come on, Margot. I got you your bed.”
Margot brought her nose to the bed. Her eyes widened again and her mouth fell open in shock.
“Perfect! Margot, hold that expression!” said Emiri, pointing her phone at the cat and snapping a picture. “Dad! Your feet! Get them out of the way!”
“What’s going on?”
Koga quickly moved his feet. Margot was already sitting primly, as if nothing had happened.
“Ugh. I did get a cute pic, but your socks are in the shot. Maybe I can edit them out. Or maybe it’s funnier with them in. ‘Margot makes a stinky face at Dad’s socks…’ ” Emiri chuckled as she typed on her phone.
Koga was happy that a picture of him made his daughter laugh, even if it was an unauthorized shot of his socked feet. Natsue, too, was smiling as she watched their exchange.
Emiri scooped up Margot, laid her down on the floor, and stroked her belly.
“Hey, Dad. Do you know why she’s called Margot?”
“Because the instruction leaflet said so.”
“No, I mean the origin of her name. Look at these white circular patches. There are two on her belly, at the base of her legs.” She turned the cat over to show her back to Koga. “And more on her butt and back. Five white spots in total. And what’s the word for ‘circle’? ‘Maru.’ And what’s the word for ‘five’? ‘Go.’ Maru-go. Margot!”
