“Guided by your moral compass: reflect on themes of home, loneliness and belonging through a complex, three-act story told effortlessly through three hours of video game narrative,” the press release for cat simulator Copycat told me. Morals? Daddy Karch, it’s happening again!
I’m in the cat shelter and the woman you play as, Olive, is coughing and the screen is going blurry. The elderly woman in the cat shelter is ill and the music is sad and it is so shameless that I cannot stop howling. At least I got to pick which epic skin I wanted for my cat.
This form is also sending me:
As someone who recently adopted a cat, this is what happened: I filled in a normal, boring form, had a phone call, someone popped round to make sure I didn’t have any pythons, and I got a cat. Note how the shelter’s letterhead just says ‘cat shelter’, and also note how the contents of the form read like they were written at the point of a gun, held by a cat.
I’m the cat now. Olive lets me out in her house and feeds me a bowl of food that looks like soggy Wotsits. The telephone rings, and the game breaks into a sort of Far Cry 3 drug sequence where I have to run away scared from the ringing. I hide under some cabinets. The phone call was Olive’s daughter saying how worried she was about Olive’s illness. Olive asked for a hug afterward and the game gave me two options, both of which involved refusing to offer comfort to this dying elderly woman. Olive sadly bumbles out of the room, then tells me she’s leaving the house to go to the pharmacy. She’s ill, remember.
When she’s gone, I steal her chicken. This is an objective, by the way. I don’t get a say in the matter.
I knock some of Olive’s precious possessions asunder and then find a brochure for a retirement home in the bin. Also, there’s another voice message from her daughter trying to convince her to go into care. No! Don’t send Olive to environmental storytelling meadows! She’ll pull through!
Screw it. Off to find more food.
Yep. Classic bathroom sausage. Here’s a Steam description:
We follow the tale of Dawn, a sceptical shelter cat who would much rather be in the wild than be readopted again. Dawn actually believes she is a wild cat. And plans on escaping as soon as she gets the chance.
Wander alleyways, fences and rooftops as you learn about the true meaning of home. The reflective pacing of the game allows you the opportunity to indulge in the emotions of love, loneliness and letting go as you progress throughout the story.
Me? I’m broken. The game has broke me. There’s a demo on Steam, if you’re emotionally prepared for it.