19 Books Like Cat Nap

I loved this novel for the distinctive voice of the pony, who wants to get even with humans for breaking his heart. Penny, the girl who loved him years ago, suddenly went away. "I am the Iago of ponies, a furry Fury. I am both adorable and devious.” He has startling abilities to bend minds and find things by long-gone smells. Embittered, he misbehaves his way into a rock-bottom existence. When he learns Penny has been hauled off to prison for a crime she didn't commit, he embarks on an odyssey to make things right.

The chapters in which Penny is trapped in a heedless justice system are painful to read. But the pony and his new friends, a goat and a hound dog, are on the case, and bring about a satisfying comeuppance, equine-style.

This memoir, with vivid portraits of Facebook personalities and company policies, hits on a visceral level. It starts with a shark attack that almost killed the author as a teenager in New Zealand; then tells of her work on global problems at the U.N. She’s struck by Facebook’s ability to connect people when it becomes the go-to for information after an earthquake in Christchurch. The company hires her to deal with governments. But Facebook makes massive demands on her and imperils her health, while she learns the quirks and privileges the higher-ups take for granted. The company keeps expanding in spite of evidence that it’s spreading misinformation and enabling bad actors. This is a thought-provoking and very personal look at an enterprise that has embedded itself in many people's lives.

This may be one of the most-read books in our house, which is saying something for a book about a gardening aficionado named Evan, whose dog dies in the first few spreads.

It’s hard for even our 2-year-old not to bristle when Evan, in his grief, violently destroys his beloved garden. But watching how he unintentionally nurtures a once prickly vine into a prized-winning pumpkin has all of us cheering with each read.

I love how this story doesn’t shy away from the deep pain that comes with losing someone we love and doesn’t sugarcoat the long, often lonely process of coming back to the surface for air. Kids are ready for this honesty, and this book does it with a gentle but honest sense of purpose. 

In the delightful book, a granddaughter enjoys many fun activities with her grandmother, especially dancing like a leaf. Grandmother begins to change in many ways, especially physically and with her memory. And then “Grandmother’s bed is empty.” The child grieves but slowly feels comfort and even joy as she celebrates the many activities she had shared with her grandmother.

Based on a true story about two polar bears at the Central Park Zoo, this is a beautiful book about the death of a loved one. In a zoo, there may literally be only two-of-a-kind, so the loss of one is especially poignant. The realization that one of the pair would be “going away” at first seems almost unbearable. Their leave-taking (complete with days of denial and days of laying together comforting each other) really takes readers through the process and yet offers enough wisdom and hope to help them come out better on the other side.

Asha visits India every summer, filling her yellow suitcase with gifts for Grandma. When Asha returns to California, Grandma fills the suitcase with gifts for Asha. This summer, though, Grandma is gone, and the house isn’t the same without her there. Grandma’s final gift for Asha’s yellow suitcase—a quilt made from her saris that she created before she died—brings comfort to both Asha and the reader. 

This story allows readers to explore how a place feels without a special loved one there, and colorful illustrations bring brightness to this difficult subject. An author’s note shares that Sriram and her family also lost a grandparent and she used her family’s experiences as inspiration for this story in the hopes that it will bring comfort to others.

Some picture books about death spend the majority of their pages leading up to the death of a character, but in this colorfully illustrated and powerfully written story, Old Turtle dies on the first page. The remainder of the book is spent reflecting on all the ways Old Turtle impacted the ocean creatures around him: he helped a whale find her pod, he saved a starfish, and he rescued a manatee tangled in fishing net. 

Throughout the story, the reader is reminded that turtle “made his world a better place” and that each of these animals impacted by turtle will always remember him. This story helps readers understand the importance of their actions and the connections we all have.

I cannot think of anything more intriguing than this hippopotamus named Elba dragging a big block everywhere she goes or anything kinder than this alligator named Norris who dances wherever he goes.

These characters draw you in and guide you in feeling loss, sadness, kindness, hope, and friendship. Norris gently walks with Elba, offering to lighten her heavy load. He is never pushy, always inviting – never judging, always hopeful. “Maybe tomorrow?” he says. Maybe that is what we all need – the strength and company of someone who can believe in tomorrow for us when we are lost in our own darkness of today.

About 9 months after my 3-year-old son sat in the room with us as his uncle quietly passed away, he began having panic attacks about dying. When I took him to a therapist, I realized that I’d done just about everything wrong in how I handled this loss with him. The therapist gave me this book.

The text is simple and focuses on what is important to the child, including what they are seeing in the people around them. Grief is scary to experience, and when you don’t quite understand what’s happening, it’s terrifying to watch your caretakers experience it. This book helps process all of that. I recommend inserting the name of the relative that died into all the places where the text mentions “grandma.”

One of the most frustrating parts of losing someone involves all the well-meaning but ultimately terrible things people say to you. It’s even harder for children who often have to grapple with euphemisms like “passed away” or “in a better place.” This book provides space to feel anger about these phrases and talk about why they don’t make sense. It also broaches feelings of missing, the scary feeling of seeing grownups grieve loudly, and gives little ideas for remembering your loved one, including providing a place in the back to write their name and paste in a picture.