A Day at Gotokuji Temple, Tokyo’s Lucky Cat Haven

If you’ve ever seen one of those little white cat figurines waving its paw at the front of a shop, you’ve already met the maneki-neko - Japan’s famous “beckoning cat.” They’re supposed to bring luck, wealth, and good fortune to whoever owns them. But did you know there’s an actual temple in Tokyo believed to be the birthplace of this beloved icon?

I didn’t - at least not until a local friend in Tokyo casually mentioned a “cat temple” tucked away in Setagaya. It is called Gotokuji Temple. She said it wasn’t touristy, had a quiet neighborhood vibe, and that even Tokyoites go there for good luck before big life events. As a sucker for hidden gems, I was instantly intrigued.

So on a mild September morning, we hopped in a taxi from our stay in Meguro, and about 20 minutes later, we were pulling into a peaceful residential street lined with trees and small coffee shops. No neon signs, no crowds, just the kind of calm you rarely find in central Tokyo.

The First Glimpse of Gotokuji Temple Tokyo

Gotokuji Temple (豪徳寺) Tokyo doesn’t shout for attention and that’s what makes it so special. Its wooden gates stand quietly behind tall pines, a far cry from the chaos of Shibuya or Asakusa. The moment we stepped inside, the air felt cooler, cleaner — like the temple itself was breathing peace.

Our toddler, naturally, broke that peace by running ahead shouting, “Mommy, look cats!!”

And yes, there were so many cats. Thousands of them.

Rows upon rows of tiny white maneki-neko statues lined the shelves of a wooden shrine, each with its little paw raised in invitation. Some were the size of a teacup, others barely bigger than a thumb. Together, they looked like an army of smiling good luck charms.

But before I get ahead of myself — let’s rewind a few centuries.

The Legend of the Beckoning Cat

Gotokuji’s story stretches back to the 1400s, when it was first established as a small temple by a feudal lord named Kira Masatada. Later, during the Edo period (1603–1868), it became the family temple of the Ii clan from Hikone — powerful samurai who served under the shogunate.

The most famous tale, though, comes from Lord Ii Naotaka, who one day took shelter under a tree near the temple during a thunderstorm. As lightning crackled overhead, he noticed a white cat sitting by the gate, raising its paw as if to beckon him inside. Curious, he followed and just then, a bolt of lightning struck the very tree he’d been standing under.

Grateful for this fateful invitation, Naotaka became the temple’s patron, donating land and money to expand it. The temple was later renamed “Gotokuji,” using part of his posthumous Buddhist name.

And that’s how the maneki-neko - the beckoning cat - was born.

Even today, locals believe that the raised left paw brings good visitors, while the right paw brings good fortune. At Gotokuji, every little statue you see was placed there by someone making a wish. Once the wish comes true, they return the cat as a gesture of thanks.

Local Secrets and Quiet Corners

Gotokuji isn’t huge, but it’s full of charming details if you slow down to look. Beyond the famous cat hall lies a three-storey pagoda decorated with carvings of the 12 zodiac animals - and if you look closely, you’ll spot a tiny cat hidden among them. It’s a little Easter egg locals love to point out.

There’s also a small incense burner near the main hall, and if you follow the path behind it, you’ll find a black maneki-neko statue tucked away near a smaller gate - a quiet spot most tourists miss.

Another fascinating part of the grounds is the Ii family cemetery, where generations of the clan, including Ii Naosuke (a key political figure in the 1800s), are buried. It’s peaceful, shaded, and gives you a sense of the temple’s deeper history beyond the cute figurines.

Exploring With a Toddler (and a Bit of Worry)

Now, I’ll be honest, visiting a temple filled with thousands of fragile porcelain cats with a toddler in tow had me sweating a bit. Our little one was enchanted by the statues, but I couldn’t shake the mental image of a domino-effect catastrophe.

We spent about half an hour wandering, taking photos, and soaking up the calm. The September sun was gentle, and the faint smell of incense drifted through the air. Unlike Tokyo’s major shrines, there were no lines, no noise, and no rush. Just the soft rustle of leaves and the quiet charm of thousands of smiling cats.

Before leaving, we stopped at the temple shop, which sells maneki-neko figurines in every size imaginable - from tiny ones you could balance on your fingertip to larger versions perfect for home altars or shop counters.

How to Get There (and When to Go)

For travelers: you can reach Gotokuji by taking the Odakyu Line to Gotokuji Station (about a 10-minute walk), or hop on the cute Tokyu Setagaya Line tram to Miyanosaka Station, which drops you just five minutes away.

But if you’re traveling with family, or want the simplest route, a taxi from central Tokyo (Meguro, Shibuya, or Shinjuku) will get you there in under 25 minutes.

Locals recommend visiting early in the morning (around 7–8 am) or late afternoon when the light is soft and the crowds are gone. Spring and autumn are the most picturesque seasons — think cherry blossoms or crimson maples — but even in September, the temple has a quiet, everyday beauty.

Back in the taxi, as we drove past narrow Setagaya streets lined with pines, I felt that peaceful sense of Tokyo you don’t often find in guidebooks. A place where history, spirituality, and a touch of whimsy meet in perfect harmony.

If you ever need a moment of calm, or maybe just a little extra luck — follow the beckoning cat.

You’ll find it waiting for you at Gotokuji.