Disclosure: Meeple Mountain received a free copy of this product in exchange for an honest, unbiased review. This review is not intended to be an endorsement.
For many years, my dear friend and former roommate had a cat named Eilonwy. He —this may confuse some of you, but I promise that Eilonwy was a “he”—was a wonderful cat, with many admirable qualities, but he could not be left unsupervised with water. He could not be left supervised with water, for that matter. Any vessel containing water that was left on a surface he could reach would soon find itself right off. Had they ever met, Eilonwy would have provided Sir Isaac Newton with many an opportunity to raise his eyebrows, tilt his head slightly, and mutter, “See?”. We lost many a glass and many a mug in this way.
It was never malicious. He wasn’t making a statement, it wasn’t some sort of anti-Narcissus performance piece. Eilonwy simply could not help but bat at the surface of the water, and to do so with such vigor that its container would edge closer and closer to disaster. It became a part of the rhythm of the household: the occasional crash, the frantic dash of startled paws, a shouted, “Damnit, Eilonwy!”

It is impossible for me to play Cats Knocking Things Off Ledges without thinking of that little bastard, may his memory be a blessing. You make a platform, you put a cat and one of several objects on the platform of your choosing—not necessarily the one you just made—then you take one of the included funny little pawpsicle sticks and bat-bat-bat until the object crashes downward. It is as though I have séanced Eilonwy into my body.
Points are scored for successful pushes. If the object you push lands on a lower platform, you get points for how far it fell. You also get a bonus point if the item matches the pattern on the platform where it lands. If platforms fall, your turn ends, but that’s the only punishment. The first player to ten points wins.
Outside of its aesthetic and associations, I can’t say that Cats Knocking Things Off Ledges did all that much for me. At higher player counts, it lasts a little too long given its minimal pleasures, and while a major argument in its favor over the superior Rhino Hero: Super Battle would be its size—“Ah, at last, a Rhino Hero we can bring to the bar”—the reality is that you spend half your time at the bar searching the floor for fallen pieces. This is neither ideal nor dignified.
The more I think about it, the more I think the scoring is the problem. Rhino Hero: Super Battle is a joy because it is entirely about building as precarious a structure as possible while trying not to have its precariousness catch up with you, personally. As a result, you focus on the building, which is the interesting thing to focus on. With Cats, the scoring encourages you to think instead about floor patterns and lines of sight. The structure is secondary. Stacking blocks is a major part of the game, but the game is designed to work against what’s inherently fun about stacking blocks.
The bat-bat-batting is pretty good, though. There’s no arguing that.







