It lowers your blood pressure in under four minutes an episode, which is a flex most shows can't manage in a full cour. The whole engine is one joke that never stops paying: a woman well into her later years, and every cat in the neighborhood is dead certain she's a man, so she is simply Ojii-chan forever, no appeals process. Then Tsushima swaggers into the yard with the entitlement of a landlord and the manners of a bar regular, and the balance of power in that small patch of grass shifts permanently. The camera stays at cat height, so the yard becomes the entire known world and mealtime becomes geopolitics. It's twelve shorts, it asks nothing of you, and it rewards a second pass because you catch the tiny cat-logic gags you missed while laughing at the first one. Perfect for the nights you have nothing left.

An older woman lives with a houseful of cats who all believe she is a man, so they call her Ojii-chan. One day a bold stray named Tsushima turns up in her yard, rummaging through the garbage for something to eat. She brings him inside for a real meal and is startled to discover that he can talk. She adopts him anyway and caters to his every whim. Told in short episodes, the comedy follows the lazy, food-obsessed Tsushima as he settles into his new home, with slice-of-life humor drawn from the everyday antics of the household.