“Once upon a time there was a very old man and a very old woman. They lived in a nice clean house which had flowers all around it, except where the door was. But they couldn’t be happy because they were so very lonely.”

Millions of Cats is said to be the inaugural modern American picture book. The text is hand lettered with pen and ink illustrations, and on the first page we get a folktale-like view of the very old man and the very old woman and their little house. As the story progresses the old man sets out on a journey to find a cat to relieve their loneliness, but he is a somewhat indecisive fellow. He ends up finding and bringing home, not one cat but rather:

“Cats here, cats there,
Cats and kittens everywhere,
Hundreds of cats,
Thousands of cats,
Millions and billions and trillions of cats.”

What do I love about this book? I love the little old woman who thinks that a nice fluffy cat will assuage their loneliness. I love the little old man who agrees to travel far and wide to fulfill his wife’s desire. I love all of the cats, covering the hills in the distance and in the foreground sitting, pouncing, cavorting, and even one dancing on its hind legs. And I even love the rather violent solution to the problem of too many cats where the old couple are left with just one very special, pretty cat. I spent some time as a child trying to figure out how all of those cats could eat each other up with only one little noncombatant cat remaining. I never did understand it, which just made the book more beautifully mysterious.

Deborah Ray Kogan has written a picture book biography about Wanda Gag and about the road to the writing and publication of Millions of Cats. I haven’t read it, but it looks like a great book for background and extra information on the author and her life. Until I get around to the biography, however, I’ll just get out my copy of Millions of Cats every once in a while and read it to a child or read it for myself–with a cup of hot chocolate or tea in a rocking chair just like the very old man and the very old woman on the final page of the book. And maybe our one cat will be playing happily at my feet.