Cats are having a moment.

Not in the TikTok sense (though, always), but in the “entire studios are building narratives around them” sense. First came Stray, the dystopian feline simulator that made everyone cry in a neon alley. Now there’s Little Kitty, Big City, where you knock over smoothies and gaslight a crow. And- it doesn’t stop there.

It’s not just games—it’s comics. It’s graphic novels. It’s animation. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a small revolution in how we tell stories:

Stray (2022)

You’re a cat in a decaying cybercity. No humans. Just robots. Just atmosphere. Just the sound of your own soft paws on metal. You nap. You meow. You accidentally start a resistance.

Stray wasn’t a joke. It made Best Narrative shortlists and racked up art direction awards. It hit because it felt like something different—lonely, tactile, and uncynical.

Little Kitty, Big City (2024)

The lo-fi cousin. A fuzzy troublemaker in an open-world sandbox full of snack thievery and neighborhood exploration. This is Untitled Goose Game energy but softer, fuzzier, and with 10x more hats.

It’s not just silly—it’s empathetic. You explore for the joy of it. You don’t save the world. You just make it weird and a little more curious.

The Warriors Resurgence

Yes, those Warriors. Erin Hunter’s cat-based high fantasy novels just got the graphic novel treatment—and the art goes way harder than it needs to. These aren’t kids’ books anymore. They’re tiny furry epics with blood oaths, exile, generational trauma, and political intrigue in every paw step. And if you think Yellowjackets is just Lord of the Flies- check the source novels and try again.

There’s no way Stray didn’t grease the wheels for this.

Don’t Forget FLOW

The Oscar-winning animated film Flow (2024) sealed it. A wordless post-apocalyptic cat odyssey rendered in gorgeous painterly digital frames, it hit festival circuits like The Red Turtle but with more danger and whiskers. If Stray was the thesis, Flow was the art film adaptation.

Why Now?

Cats are self-contained emotional machines. They don’t need permission to be soft, curious, rude, or sad. They’re perfect for storytelling in an age of limited attention and deep interiority. They’re avatars for the disconnected, the chaotic good, and the tender little freaks in all of us.

Also, let’s be clear: gaming has been dog-coded for years- but the era of DOGE is fully and truly over. Cats are just reclaiming the joystick and we’re here for it.

Final Word

Don’t be surprised if the next narrative darling stars a pansexual necromancer sphynx cat solving emotional mysteries via scent. The feline age is here—and it’s purring with purpose.