Just then Nakata thought he heard a small laugh behind him. He turned and saw, seated on a low concrete wall next to a house, a lovely, slim Siamese looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me, but would you by chance be Mr. Nakata?" the Siamese purred.
"Yes, that's correct. My name's Nakata. It's very nice to meet you."
"Likewise, I'm sure," the Siamese replied.
"It's been cloudy since this morning, but I don't expect we'll be seeing any rain soon," Nakata said.
"I do hope the rain holds off."

The Siamese was a female, just approaching middle age. She proudly held her tail up straight, and had a collar with a name tag. She had pleasent features and was slim, with not an ounce of extra fat.

"Please call me Mimi. The Mimi for La Bohéme. There's a song about it, too: 'Si, Mi Chiamano Mimi.'"
"I see," Nakata said, not really following.
"An opera by Puccini, you know. My owner happens to be a great fan of opera," Mimi said, and smiled amiably. "I'd sing it for you, but unfortunately I'm not much of a singer."
"Nakata's very happy to meet you Mimi-san."
"Same for me Mr. Nakata."

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore