Wilbourn is one half--the TLC and general office logistics half--of a much-publicized Greenwich Village veterinary practice completely limited to cats. (Her partner Dr. Paul Rowan contributes an introduction in his capacity as the veterinary half.) The Rowan-Wilbourn venture appears to be an enlightened experiment in the treatment of animals as feeling and responding creatures instead of fur-covered objects with malfunctioning transmissions. The book, however, is a gooey pastiche of case histories, rambling office sagas, and endless preachments on behalf of Wilbourn's build-your-cat's-confidence approach (dignified with the name of ""behaviorism""). Cary the loving but unpredictably vicious Siamese, Wylie the tiny kitten with the enormous hernia, Beau the defeated rival of his owner's new baby are lost in a sea of self-congratulatory gush. If you are turned on by people who discuss what incense to bum in the office, send check-up reminders in the form of little notes from their cat to your cat, refer to cats' human companions as their ""mamas"" or ""fathers,"" and name the office personnel ""Claudine Coin"" and ""Wendy Weave"" according to hobby or interest, you'll adore Ms. Wilbourn. The patients must be uncommonly patient.