The Story Behind the NINJA video house Branding
Today marks a milestone—our branding has officially reached its final form. The logo text has been locked in for a while, but we took our time perfecting the icon to go with it. And now, with the brand identity fully realised (special thanks to the amazingly talented Hingrito for working with me on this one), it feels like the right moment to share where the name actually comes from.
It’s not some deep metaphor about how ninjas represent precision, speed or excellence—though those traits have since become adopted as our brands values. It’s not a childhood obsession with the PS2 game Tenchu: Wrath of Heaven (though my obsession with that game did inspire a life-long love of ninjas). No, the truth is much simpler:
Ninja is my cat.
The Christmas Cat Rescue
It was early December 2019, right in the thick of Christmas party season. I was helping my girlfriend at the time pick up some hired chairs from St Albans in Melbourne’s west when, out of nowhere, a tiny, feral kitten bolted across the road in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes just in time.
Pulling over, we realised we couldn’t just leave him there—he was definitely going to get run over. But catching him? That was a whole different story.
Up close, the little guy was covered in cuts and dried blood. He’d clearly been in a fight and lost. I managed to grab him a few times, but since I’d never owned a cat before (I was always a dog person), I was too gentle, and he kept slipping away. That’s when my girlfriend named him Ninja.
After a couple of hours of failed attempts, we regrouped. We drove to the shops, grabbed a cardboard box (a Corona box, to be specific), and bought some cat food. Returning to where we last saw him, we found him hiding in someone’s front yard. A bit of food, a well-placed box, and we finally had him. It may have taken three-hours, but we had him.
We took him straight to the nearest vet, thinking that was the end of it—a festive good deed done.
The Call That Changed Everything
A month went by. I didn’t think much about Ninja, aside from the occasional, sarcastic "he’s probably dead" whenever my girlfriend asked about him. (Dark humour. Don’t judge me.)
Then, on the afternoon of January 9th, I got a phone call.
It was the Lost Dogs’ Home in North Melbourne. They wanted to know if I wanted to adopt the cat I dropped off. Without hesitation, I said no. I lived in a tiny apartment, and like I said, I was a dog person.
I hung up the phone. And immediately felt like the worst person alive.
Without thinking, I called them back. The woman on the line sounded confused—"Umm… yes, of course he’s still available. We just spoke two minutes ago."
I told her I’d take him.
A New Roommate
The next call was to my brother, who I was living with at the time (irrelevant side note: we’re twins). Before he had a chance to argue, I blurted out:
"Don’t be mad, but we have a cat now. Bye!" Click.
That afternoon, I picked up Ninja, along with a scratching post (which, to this day, is completely destroyed but still standing) and some toys (which he refuses to play with).
When my brother got home, I could hear his heavy footsteps stomping up the stairs—he was ready to chew me out for making an impulsive decision. But the second he saw this tiny, stitched-up kitten on our floor, he melted.
And that was the first—and only—time Ninja has ever gotten me out of trouble. So I guess that makes us even.
The Name Lives On
So that’s the story. That’s why we’re NINJA video house. Not because of a convoluted branding exercise. But because of one little street cat who dodged cars, escaped capture, and somehow found his way home.