The rainbow bridge, for a cat.

A hardcover memorial book for the cat who has gone. Illustrated illustrated for this one book. Said without cartoons. The only edition.

A cat's departure is not announced. It is discovered.

Cats do not say goodbye. They are present, and then they are not. The morning has a different quality. The chair is wrong. The house is doing something it has never done before — holding still in a way that is not peace but absence. You know the difference.

The book does not try to explain where she has gone. It does not render the bridge as a location. It holds the last ordinary scene — the chair, the window, the patch of afternoon light — and lets the reader keep that scene. That is the correct register for a cat memorial. Cats did not traffic in fanfare. The book should not.

What the press sets down for one cat.

You give us her name and three details: the marking nobody else noticed, the window she preferred, the noise she made when she decided to speak. Juno writes the story. Juno writes it in long present-tense sentences. She is illustrated for this one book — her colour, her bearing, the specific way she held her body on the cushion. The book is hardcover, matte-printed, in a plain box.

She is on the cover. Her name is in foil. After the book ships, the file is closed. There is one edition, and it is on your shelf.

Eighty-five dollars. One edition. One cat, in full.

The book arrives in roughly two weeks in a plain box. You open it when you are ready to open it. There is no urgency from the press. The book will wait on the shelf the way she used to wait at the window — quietly, without complaint, in her own time.

More from the press.

• Cat memorial book — The full cat memorial landing.
• Rainbow bridge — The hub for all species.
• Pet loss gift — For someone whose pet has died.

a storybook no one else has ever read.