Some are playful, others are adventurous, laid back, or have fine tastes. Snowball and Tabitha and Mack and Marshmallow and dozens more. When you come back, they’ll be there, the cats with curious names. You place them around the yard, then close the app and wait a few hours. Then you have to purchase a few toys and goodies, maybe a cardboard box, a ball of yarn, or a scratching post. The remaining gourmet options are expensive, but worthwhile in small doses. That is, until the cats start pouring in.įirst you have to put food in the bowl. The scene resembles one of those “pillow shots” of tranquil and quotidian Japanese scenery so beloved by film director Yasujiro Ozu. A green carpet stretches down the middle and an empty pink bowl completes the composition to the south.Īt the edges of the frame, you glimpse your house and the neighborhood around it, but they remain tantalizingly out of view. To the west, a raised porch, sustained on short stilts. A stone slab rests on the south-east corner, a tree stump to the north, shrubs and plant pots beyond it, houses and powerline poles in the distant background. The player’s view is confined to a narrow patio. Downloading it was easy and, most importantly, free. That’s when I saw a friend of mine on Facebook share a screen capture of his digital backyard populated by adorable cats. A translation was finally made available last November, concluding an incredibly successful year for Neko Atsume.īut I had never heard of it until a few weeks ago. This game is so simple and disarmingly cute that it became a cult sensation among English-speakers despite being entirely in Japanese. Not actual cats, mind you, because I’m barely ever home for real pets. Which is why, as my smartphone vibrates and I envision the hour ahead, I need a distraction.
NEKO ATSUME GAME BOY FULL
Time to leave for work.īut first I have to shower get dressed make sure my satchel has everything I need contemplate why satchels are called “murses” in North America, where for some reason they’re hotly debated leave my apartment and walk to the nearest bus stop stare in disbelief as two or three buses avoid me altogether, too full to take anyone else on eventually board a somewhat less populated bus and get intimate with its many passengers and pray I don’t sweat too much before reaching the office. I open my eyes to the brute fact of morning.
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