The ripple effect of Balatro on modern gaming is hard to ignore. Its blend of accessible mechanics and layered complexity has inspired countless developers to take simple, easily understood systems and wrap them in strategic depth. While the industry may one day look back on Balatro’s influence with a comprehensive study, games like Dogpile give a more immediate glimpse of how that legacy can manifest—this time in the most adorable way possible.

Dogpile is a deckbuilding match-3 roguelike that merges the addictive simplicity of merge games like Suika Game with a Balatro-inspired strategic layer. At its core, it’s cute, cozy, and utterly charming—a game that will appeal both to the “numbers-go-up” satisfaction seeker and, in my case, anyone who can’t resist a dog doing something ridiculous. Players drop small dogs onto a grid to merge them into larger breeds, unlocking points that help progress through higher levels. The evolution is delightfully literal: two Chihuahuas combine into a Pomeranian, and so on, with the grid filling up in a Tetris-like pile. If the stack overflows, the run ends.

The gameplay is deceptively simple. Dropping dogs is mostly about letting physics, gravity, and trajectory do their thing, and that lack of direct control is where the tension—and fun—peaks. The dogs themselves contort into amusing, sometimes confounding shapes, occasionally revealing a tiny, comic butthole. The game spices things up by introducing modifiers, like bouncy or magnetic dogs, that add a playful physics layer to the match-3 formula. Watching a pug latch onto another pug to form a dachshund is, honestly, absurd—but the satisfying “pop” and accompanying “arf” make it worth celebrating.

Strategic depth emerges in the deckbuilding aspect, where the influence of Balatro is clear. Each round, players draw a hand of cards representing different dog breeds, much like Balatro’s card mechanics. In-game currency lets players expand and enhance their decks—adding new breeds or traits that affect how dogs interact on the grid. Spend $15 to buy a Chow Chow card, or invest in a tag that makes certain dogs spin and shake the pile, creating new merging opportunities. Winning a round unlocks visits to the grooming salon, where players can tweak their dog cards: granting positive traits like magnetism to attract matches, or removing negative traits like fleas.

Deckbuilding in Dogpile is where strategy and satisfaction collide. Giving a dog a “barking” trait that agitates the pile, paired with a tag that rewards points when dogs bark, is immensely gratifying—meters fill, cash register sounds ping, and the game rewards careful planning in a way that nods to the psychological hooks Balatro popularized.

That said, Dogpile doesn’t aspire to Balatro’s full depth. There are no boss fights, and failing to meet point thresholds doesn’t feel punishing; instead, players face negative traits or events that are either minor annoyances or instant losses. The sense of limitless deck-building possibilities that defines Balatro is less present here.

Still, Dogpile succeeds in demonstrating how Balatro’s influence can extend beyond poker into whimsical, unexpected territory. The combination of deckbuilding, match-3 mechanics, and physics-driven dog chaos results in a game that’s clever, charming, and oddly strategic. And yes—players can pet the dogs, which somehow makes it even better.

For fans of cute chaos with a side of strategy, Dogpile is a reminder that sometimes the simplest ideas, when combined with thoughtful mechanics, can be the most delightful.