Reigning Cats

Reigning Cats is a tower defense strategy game released in 2015 where players help Kingkat defend his castle against waves of angry dogs. Players hire and upgrade six unique cat classes—warriors, archers, rogues, berserkers, mages, and priests—each with distinct abilities and two job paths, while battling 13 dog breeds, mini bosses, and a final enemy across dynamic day/night cycles and weather conditions. The game features story mode, mini-games, additional challenge modes, and quirky mechanics like cat care and strategic exploration.

Reigning Cats: Review

Introduction

In the crowded landscape of indie strategy games, few titles possess the whimsical audacity to merge tower defense with feline husbandry. Reigning Cats, a 2015 release by developer Myra D’Ann (Myra Boholst), emerges as a charming curiosity: a game where players defend a besieged castle not just with swords and spells, but by feeding hungry cats and cleaning their litter boxes. This deceptively simple premise belies a surprisingly deep strategic experience wrapped in a pixelated, comic-book aesthetic. While its technical roughness and limited commercial footprint prevent it from achieving mainstream recognition, Reigning Cats endures as a cult favorite—a testament to the power of niche innovation in an era dominated by AAA productions. This review examines how its unique blend of resource management, tactical combat, and absurdist humor creates a flawed yet unforgettable micro-masterpiece.

Development History & Context

Reigning Cats emerged from the solo vision of Myra D’Ann, developed using the accessible but technically constrained GameMaker Studio engine. Released on Steam on August 28, 2015, it arrived during a pivotal period for indie games. The tower-defense genre, revitalized by titles like Plants vs. Zombies and Orcs Must Die!, was ripe for experimentation. D’Ann’s ambition was clear: to subvert the genre’s rigid conventions by integrating a pet-simulator loop. The game’s $1.99 price point signaled its intent as a low-barrier, high-reward experience. Its development was modest, evidenced by its absence in mainstream press and reliance on community engagement via Steam forums and a now-defunct blog. D’Ann’s vision, as reflected in the game’s Steam description, was to challenge players’ “love for cats” through mechanics that blurred the line between strategy and caretaking—a bold gamble that paid off in spirit, if not polish. The landscape of 2015 indie gaming valued creativity over graphical fidelity, allowing Reigning Cats to thrive on its eccentric concept alone.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

The narrative unfolds through a framework of playful absurdity. Players assist Kingkat, a hopeful feline monarch, in defending his castle while waiting (perhaps naively) for his long-lost owner to return. This premise immediately establishes a meta-commentary on ownership and abandonment, layered with humor. The “story” is less a linear plot and more a series of escalating conflicts against antagonistic dog breeds, each boss drawing from historical or pop-culture references:
– Joan of Arc reimagined as a poodle banner-wielding “Poodle of Arc.”
– Laika, the Soviet space dog, transformed into a mechanized “Space Dog.”
– Zeke, the Big Bad Wolf from Disney’s Three Little Pigs.
– Gidget, the Taco Bell chihuahua.

Dialogue is sparse but character-driven, conveyed through tooltips, boss introductions, and the quirky “Dog Tips” (e.g., middle-clicking a dog reveals its personality). The overarching theme is resilience, underscored by Robert E. Howard’s epigraph: “A kingdom is not lost by a single defeat.” Defeat here is not an endgame but a cyclical reset, reinforcing the game’s core message of perseverance. The narrative’s greatest strength lies in its ability to humanize its animal cast, making resource management feel like genuine care for a quirky family of mercenaries.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Reigning Cats deconstructs the tower-defense formula into three core loops:

1. Strategic Defense: Players hire and deploy six cat classes—Warriors, Archers, Rogues, Berserkers, Mages, and Priests—each with two stances (e.g., offense/defense). Combat emphasizes placement and synergy:

   • Warriors deflect projectiles when positioned near Kingkat.
   • Rogues steal gold from behind castle walls.
   • Archers suffer range penalties in darkness.
   • Priests heal but are fragile when venturing for gold.

2. Resource Management: Gold is earned through combat, “Venturing” (sending cats on risky side-missions), or cleaning litter boxes, which occasionally yield hidden treasures. Feeding cats and maintaining hygiene are not chores but strategic necessities, linking player actions to in-game rewards.

3. Progression & Modes: Upgrades for cat skills unlock new tactical options. Beyond the story, three distinct modes:

   • Revenge of the Big Bad Wolf: Flip the script, playing as Zeke to command dog armies via card-based tactics.
   • War, War Never Ends: A chaotic sandbox with random enemies and boss appearances.
   • Survive the Night: A horror-tinged mode where fog impairs vision, and “green weird” enemies behave unpredictably.

The interface is minimalist (point-and-select), but its flaws are glaring. Early Steam discussions reveal persistent bugs: game crashes, failure to launch, and a notorious issue where the game would loop back to end credits. The “Chow” mini-game (feeding cats) and “Potty” mini-game (litter cleaning) add novelty but feel underdeveloped. Despite these issues, the gameplay loop’s depth lies in its emergent strategies—e.g., sacrificing low-HP warriors to fund a Rogue venture, or timing upgrades around randomized boss encounters.

World-Building, Art & Sound

The game’s world is a surreal fiefdom where cats and dogs wage war with cartoonish weaponry. The castle’s flip-screen layout creates a diorama-like effect, reinforcing the toybox aesthetic. Art direction leans into a bold, comic-book style with exaggerated character designs: chihuahuas in sombreros, dalmatians with spy gear, and Kingkat’s regal yet perpetually bewildered expression. Colors are vibrant but limited by GameMaker’s constraints, resulting in a charmingly dated aesthetic.

Sound design is functional but unremarkable. Ambient tracks are absent, replaced by simple sound effects for attacks, clicks, and the meow-ing of cats. The most memorable audio element is the “Dog Tips” system, where clicking enemies reveals humorous, fourth-wall-breaking quips (achievable in “Stay Awhile And Listen,” an award for listening 250 times). This audio-visual synergy crafts an atmosphere of lighthearted chaos, turning the siege into a playground rather than a battlefield.

Reception & Legacy

Reigning Cats launched to muted but polarized reception. On Steam, it holds a “Mixed” rating (52/100 on Steambase, based on 25 reviews). Players praised its originality and humor, with one guide hailing it as “the only game where cleaning a litter box is a strategic necessity.” Negative reviews focused on technical issues, like the game cycling to credits or unbalanced late-game bosses (e.g., “Joan—way too many HP,” as noted in a 2024 forum thread). Metacritic lists no critic scores, reflecting its status as a niche curiosity.

Commercially, it achieved modest success, with 448 owners tracked on Completionist.me and a $1.99 price point making it an impulse buy. Its legacy lies in its influence on indie mechanics. While it didn’t spawn direct sequels, its fusion of pet-sim and strategy paved the way for titles like Cats Away (2025) and Byte Cats (2022). The game’s dedicated community, evidenced by Steam guides (e.g., Braains’ “BASIC GUIDE”), ensured its survival as a cult classic. Today, it’s remembered for its absurdity and heart—a flawed gem that dared players to reign over cats, not just castles.

Conclusion

Reigning Cats is a triumph of concept over execution. Its brilliance lies in how it transforms mundane pet-care into a strategic pillar, creating a tower-defense experience unlike any other. The game’s charm is undeniable: from Kingkat’s quixotic hope to the historical absurdity of a poodle Joan of Arc. Yet, its technical hiccups—bugs, UI quirks, and imbalance—prevent it from reaching its full potential.

Ultimately, Reigning Cats earns its place in video game history as a bravely eccentric footnote. It proves that innovation thrives not in polish, but in passion. For players willing to forgive its flaws, it offers a singular joy: the opportunity to defend a kingdom with a broom in one hand and a sword in the other, all while waiting for an owner who may never return. In a world of AAA homogeneity, Reigning Cats reigns as a purr-fectly peculiar monument to indie ingenuity.