For the record, I love cats. I have a cat. I enjoy my cat for what she’s worth, which is sleeping on my bed and throwing up her dinner every now and then and walking away from it. She’s a delight, because pets are good for the body, the soul, the whatever. You’d think that this cat island, in Aoshima, Japan, would be the ultimate in spiritual and mental rejuvenation, but really, it’s kind of a nightmare.
Cats outnumber human beings six to one on this island. There are six fucking cats for every human being. Let that sink in. That’s six gaping maws with needle teeth, begging for food, clawing at your leg with their razor claws and asking you to please, for the love of god, pet them, NOW. That’s six pairs of beady little cat eyes, glowing green at you out of the darkness, as you sneak out the back door to feed them. Walking to the ferry to get the mail would involve wading through a veritable sea of furry bodies, weaving themselves around your limbs as you try to just. Get. The. Fucking. Mail.
Look at all the cats. There are SO MANY CATS. The island is practically teeming with animals, a great furry horde of bodies, yowling and mewling, begging aggressively for food and attention. One cat is fine. Two cats, acceptable. Three or more, and you’ve got a problem on your hands. Check out the rest of the terror over at The Atlantic.
Original by Megan Reynolds