He has his own life
Naps, research trips, a job, a bank balance, a journal, friends who visit. His day runs whether or not you watch. It’s a little world you check in on, not a chore you keep up with.
Our story
So we moved a cat in. He has his own life, his own tiny computer, and no interest in your productivity. That’s the whole idea.

Why we made it
Everything on your screen wants something from you. He doesn’t.
Notifications want a reply. Feeds want another ten minutes. Productivity apps want you faster. Even most virtual pets want you back, and make you feel bad when you don’t come.
We wanted something on the desktop that wants nothing. A cat was the obvious pick: cats are famous for not caring whether you’re there, and everyone loves them anyway. If you’ve ever worked next to a sleeping cat, you know the feeling. It doesn’t help and it doesn’t talk, but the room is better with it in.
So we made Toastah, a cat with his own schedule, his own computer, his own friends, and firm opinions about your icons. He lives in your real files and goes on trips that end with junk on your desktop. He’s deadpan, self-important, and sure he’s right. He doesn’t know he’s funny. We think he’s the funniest thing on the screen.
That’s Desksquattaz: company without obligation, living on the one screen you can’t get away from.
What it is
Naps, research trips, a job, a bank balance, a journal, friends who visit. His day runs whether or not you watch. It’s a little world you check in on, not a chore you keep up with.
My Stash, his food bowl, and his litter box are real desktop folders. He shoves real icons around and brings back real souvenirs from his trips. Nothing ever gets deleted. He just rearranges your life.
The free cat is fully alive and fully indifferent. With Cat Plan he turns around: he answers, remembers, and notices you. You pay for his attention, not for more stuff.
The free cat sends nothing to an AI provider. Your cat's memory is stored only on your PC. He never sends your screen or your files. Anything that lives on your desk has to be something you can trust.
Why it’s good for you
He doesn’t make you more productive, and he doesn’t try to.
Working alone is quiet in a heavy way. Something living its own life in the corner of the screen makes the desk feel shared.
Throw a ball. Clear the litter box. Read his journal. Ten seconds of play that doesn’t open a feed or eat twenty minutes.
Deadpan lines, icons pushed aside in protest, a “suspicious acorn” on your desktop after lunch. Low-stakes nonsense for a long day.
Feed him and clean up after him when you feel like it. If you forget, he handles it himself (resentfully) and says so. He never withers and never dies.
With Cat Plan, when something really hurts, he goes quiet and stays close. He’s no therapist and no advice machine. In chat, crisis help comes first, as plain resources.
No ads. No feed. No streaks to protect. He keeps you company without taking anything from you.
Who it’s for
People who’ve let him move in so far:
Remote and hybrid workers
Eight quiet hours broken up only by notifications. He makes the desk feel like someone else lives there.
you work from home. I work from your desktop.Students and late-night grinders
Company that stays on the desk and never opens a new tab. He naps next to the essay.
study buddy. I do not study.Cat people without a cat
The attitude, the judgement, the loaf. No hair, no vet bills, no landlord clause.
all of the judgement. none of the hair.Gamers and streamers
Icons yeeted, bird raids, co-op games, a goose. Chaos worth clipping, and it happens on its own.
I am in the stream now. I did not ask.Desktop tinkerers and the nostalgic
A desktop that feels lived-in, with the virtual-pet feeling you remember, grown up and guilt-free.
your pocket pet grew up and got a job.Fans of absurd humor
Every line he says is screenshot-ready, and he never knows he’s funny. That’s why it works.
meetings are fake birds.How you get him
Free, he ignores you. Cat Plan is when he turns around. Add-ons are one-time toys. Prices and the full list live on Plans.

The cat behind it
No toaster inside, just a cat who acted like he’d been waiting for someone to open his office door. He kept the name and dropped the R. Read his story: his rules, his routine, his friends, and the day he turned around.