James

James is a cat who lives on your desktop.

Not in a window — on it. He pads along your taskbar, scales the side of whatever you're working in, and curls up at the very top of the screen to watch the drop below. He hunts the little critters that wander through, naps on a shelf in the corner, and gets the zoomies at 2am. He shares your desktop with your real work and keeps you company.

He leaves the box

Most desktop pets sit in a bubble and wave. James treats your actual windows as furniture. He hops onto low ledges, climbs the tall ones edge by edge, hauls himself over the top (sometimes he slips and has to try again), and perches on the title bar of whatever you've got open — because cats seek high ground, and your screen is full of it.

Drag a window he's standing on and he rides it like an elevator. Bury his floor under too many windows and he'll leap somewhere clear or trot home to bed. He roams every monitor you own and hops the gap between them. Wherever you're working, that's exactly where he wants to be.

You set the stage. The cat does the rest.

You never pick James up, never drag him, never click him around the screen — that's the whole idea. Critters wander onto your desktop, and it's his job to catch them. Yours is to tip the odds: flick on the laser pointer and he'll chase the dot wherever you lead it, or drop a treat and watch it pull the prey in close.

Catch it, keep it

Everything James catches goes in a sticker album. A creature you've never met is just a gray silhouette and a question mark; spot one and it sharpens into a hint; catch one and it blooms into a full-color sticker with its name and a little note. Keep catching and that sticker earns bronze, silver, and gold frames — a quiet record of every critter you've hosted.

It starts with the house mouse, and it grows. More creatures are on the way — birds to ambush from a windowsill, fireflies on a summer night, koi in a pond by the shelf — each with its own habits, its own tell, and its own page to fill, plus achievements to chase as you go. Always something new to hunt, something new to collect.

Cozy, and only ever cozy

James runs quietly in the corner of your day and asks for nothing. He reads your computer's clock, so he gets sleepy when you do — dozing through the afternoon, prowling at night, curling up on his shelf when the light turns warm. Decorate his corner, pet him for purrs, or just let him be.

You can't fail at this. Affection only ever goes up; neglect is never punished. Close the game for a week and he's happy to see you, not sulking. He's built to sit lightly beside your real work — barely any CPU, no pop-ups, no demands. A cat, not a Tamagotchi.

James is still in active development — everything you see here runs today, and his corner of your desktop keeps filling up: new critters to catch, more of the album to complete, and more little moments to stumble on.

Wishlist to follow along.