The Lure of Virtual Pets
by NorseGamer, HSM Editor-in-Chief
What do our virtual companions say about us?
In real life, I’m something of a cat enthusiast. Whereas a dog is a lovely creature, offering enthusiasm and unconditional affection, a cat is considerably more subtle. They love just as fiercely, but their inherent vulnerability is masked by their aloof choices of when and where – and to what degree – they choose to show such affection.
In a dog household, the human is in charge. In a cat household, the cat is in charge.
My own household has a cat. And the Norsecat is a sweet creature. A korat by breeding, she prefers a quiet, stable environment in which nothing changes and cuddles are on demand. She’s older now, and her health is failing; regular trips to the vet are what keep her going. Chronic kidney infection, pancreatitis and anemia are eating away at her, and I’m doing everything medically feasible to keep entropy at bay. But she’s on borrowed time, and she and I both know it.
How could I not buy her time? She’s my daughter.
I don’t much care what you believe in religiously or spiritually; whether you think animals have a soul or you think they are merely on this planet for our whims. But it’s virtually impossible to deny the powerful bonds we form, across species, with those whom we care about. Bonds which form in both directions.
The Norsecat recognizes my voice, even over the phone. And she responds – first with excitement, and then plaintively, wondering why I’m not physically there. Perhaps someone of sterner stuff can be unaffected by the pure affection of a little soul. I am not.
Why did I decide, so many years ago, to adopt a cat? Why do any of us have pets?
For me, it was quite simple: love.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’ve had a bad life, or that I somehow wasn’t raised in a good environment when I was younger. But it’s a lonely life. I’m naturally an introvert, made all the moreso by carrying that stereotypically geek blend of far more brains than attractiveness. Couple that social awkwardness with acne and bad hair during my first two decades, and my shell was more or less what you’d expect.
We're just misunderstood, really.
Success in the business world doesn’t really change this. Being a wunderkind anomaly in an industry where you work with people significantly older and more extroverted than you is both a blessing and a curse – because it teaches you how to paint yourself as gregarious and happy, how to converse with other people, how to craft appearance as needed. Too many of my introverted geek brethren, both from my own generation and subsequent ones, lean on these classic downfalls of our kind as crutches, pointing to it all as justifications for why they don’t get ahead. I refuse to do so. Success is the best revenge.
Here’s the funny part about it all, though:
A house full of awards and a CV full of achievements might make the game of life more enjoyable, but it doesn’t make life as a game more fulfilling. We all have the capacity for logic and pragmatism, but emotions are what rule us.
And let me tell you: if you’ve never owned a pet, and recognized the tremendous emotional satisfaction of seeing unconditional love beaming at you, there’s just nothing like it. Those of you reading this who own pets can back me up on this.
HIIIIIIIIIIII!
The Norsecat has caused, in her lifetime, literally thousands of dollars in property damage. Throwing up on cable boxes and computers. Shattering lamps and entire tabletops. The list goes on. And yet when she plants herself on my chest, squints in contentment and purrs like a B-52 bomber, I go all melty.
So, yes, I get the appeal behind owning a pet.
But what’s the deal behind owning a virtual pet?
Virtual pets are big, big business in Home. The selection runs from the more mundane – dogs and cats – to truly unusual choices. A helicopter. A unicorn. And, of course, Thing in a Box. Developers have put out a wide array of virtual companions for us to choose from – but why do we find them appealing to begin with?
At first, I thought they might serve the same purpose as their real-life counterparts: to fulfill an emotional desire to feel loved and needed. An oft-repeated belief here at HSM is that you have to be slightly damaged in some way to really enjoy Home; it has to fulfill some sort of emotional need to truly warrant a long-term investment.
Keep in mind that I pointedly do not exclude myself from that belief. Home has a lot of damaged souls in it, mine included. For some of us, it’s emotional. For some it’s physical. Sometimes it’s psychological. It differs from person to person. But beneath the squabbling and disagreements we have as a community, it seems to be the one unifying thread: Home gives us something – some sort of escape – that’s missing from real life.
But why virtual companions?
Tamagotchi
I honestly have to admit that when they first arrived on the scene in Home, I figured it would be a giant bust. It just didn’t make logical sense to me. Granted, I understand standalone virtual pets; many years ago, I recall reading about handheld virtual-pet “games” that people in Japan were purchasing. You had to “feed” the image onscreen at regular intervals and show it sufficient “playtime” – and if you didn’t, it would die from neglect. The machine would shut off, never to reactivate.
I totally understand that concept, and I think it’s brilliant. For working adults who may not have the time, resources or space for an animal, this was a sufficient emotional substitute. For children, it was a wonderful way to teach them about responsibility and caring for a dependent without actually risking someone’s life.
And it illustrates a very important point: human beings form emotional attachments to images on a screen.
Most species on this planet can’t pass what’s known as the mirror test: namely, hold a mirror up to an animal, and it won’t recognize its reflection as itself, instead thinking that it’s another animal. Humans, in this regard, are quite unique: not only do we of course pass the mirror test, but we can form deep connections, emotionally, with things that aren’t “real” in the traditional sense of the word.
With certain things in Home, this made sense to me. I’ve never tried raising a dolphy, but I’ve seen dolphy owners display the same sort of attachment and focus on their digital animals as they would for a real-world pet. I get that. A dolphy is, to a limited extent, an interactive experience: giving it the right “food” to boost statistics, decorating it, competing with it, and so forth.
But that still doesn’t explain virtual companions – because those companions have no interactivity built into them.
So why are they consistently selling well? In fact, why do we ask for more of them? What need are they fulfilling?
And then it hit me.
Remember when Paris Hilton went through that “designer dog” phase? There was this fifteen-minute window where it seemed like it was all the rage to have a small dog in your handbag if you wanted to be viewed as hip and trendy. For all I know, it’s still going on – I tend to follow National Geographic a hell of a lot more than the latest celebrity gossip, particularly since I don’t really know who the hell any of these supposedly famous people are today – but it made me wonder if that’s the real appeal of these virtual companions: that it has to do with accessorizing your digital portrayal to the world.
It’s not about caring for a pet. It’s about owning another fashion accessory. It’s about using one more means to advertise ourselves to this virtual society.
It makes sense.
Why did I choose to purchase a Lockwood kitten? I can’t feed it or take care of it; it’s not an interactive mini-game. No, I purchased it because I liked the idea of occasionally advertising to the world that I’m a cat lover. That of all the choices of virtual companion out there, I specifically want people to know that I like precocious bundles of purring fluffiness.
Gratuitous shot of the Norsecat. Because I can.
It’s no different than why I wear only certain types of clothing in Home, or why I stubbornly refuse to abrogate proper grammar and syntax in a text bubble. These are all cues we send out to other people, advertising what’s important to us.
Because we want to connect with others.
This is one of the reasons why I may never tire of Home. Because it is a game – and, indeed the most wonderful of games: a game in which we are interacting with each other. We are the game. And it is a game we play, daily, with each other.
Home is, in fact, a giant mirror test for us. What we see in Home – what we get out of it – is frankly a reflection of what we put into it. No more, no less. What we seek to escape from in Home is perhaps a reflection of what pains us – emotionally, mentally, physically or otherwise – in real life. And what we seek to advertise most prominently about ourselves in Home is perhaps a reflection of whom we either are or wish to be in real life.
Until such time as Home’s virtual companions evolve into interactive experiences, sales of virtual companions may simply be less a desire to care for another creature and more to do with advertising what’s important to us in real life. Yet if we truly wish to connect with others, then it is still true now as it always has been: care about someone else, and they will care about you.
May 1st, 2012 by NorseGamer | 15 comments
NorseGamer is the product manager for LOOT Entertainment at Sony Pictures, as well as the founder and publisher of HomeStation Magazine. Born and raised in Silicon Valley, he holds a B.A. in English/Creative Writing from San Francisco State University and presently lives in Los Angeles. All opinions expressed in HSM are solely his and do not necessarily reflect the views of Sony DADC.
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Excellent article Norse. Sorry to hear about your cat. I have lived in households with dogs and cats, and I admit I have always gravitated more towards dogs, but I love all animals. I was even very attached to rabbits, chickens, and even fish. I agree with the conclusion that virtual companions are essentially fashion accessories. I’ve noticed a gender trend in that as well, with most obvious male teens usually displaying the cars and planes, and helicopters. I have over 30 at this point, a lot of them freebie rewards but the ones i have purchased have all been animals. I specifically wanted Binx for a long time because Binx looks so much like my real pup. I’ve grown attached to many animals whether they were my personal pets or not. Within the last year losing 3 of them (not my personal pets but friends’)which has been very sad, even though i haven’t been in their daily lives for some time it didn’t diminish the bond I had with them. The real life fashion accessory trend was atrocious and really made me dislike the celebutantes that decided to make a living thing their fashion accessory. I volunteered with ASPCA shelters during those periods and it was really sad to see chihuahuas and pomerenians outnumber the pitbulls in shelters because these people decided the charm wore off and it was too much trouble to take care of them anymore, so they just unloaded them to the fate of being euthanized. I advocate pet adoption as much as possible but emphasize the serious commitment it is to take care of a living creature that has needs you can not ignore. The sidekicks i have purchased have been a reflection of my interests, and i don’t know that you can have too many, though i may be close. Some are just a fantasy too, we can’t have dinosaur pets or wild animals, but it’s nice to have a little raptor, gorilla, or tiger sidekick. It’s just nice to also see another animated creature in an environment whether you interact with it or not. I think that was the greatest appeal of the mui mui island for me the fact that it was inhabited by little creatures whether i was there or not, and the fact that you can cheer them up by dancing for them. Even when my own not so little brown furry bundle of love is lying next to me on the couch or in bed, it’s nice to have a little companion following you around with such seeming unconditional devotion, you just tend to forget that it is programmed to.
I haven’t gotten the kitten companion, just because I have a cat I love very much. Her name is Spab, and my connection to her is profound.
I do own the peacock companion. I have owned quite a few pea fowl in R/L, and one thing or another happened to them. So I bought one in Home so I could continue to see those tails, and remember just how beautiful they were.
I think your right it does appear to be a trendy type of market, and that is cool too! It would be interesting to have a consequences type interaction with these companions.
I wonder how lovable a household pet cat would be were it as big as a tiger. I sure don’t know. One would have to have a mansion made of gold to have such a large cat as a pet I just got myself in trouble with those who hate the gold mansion sold in HOME. So what?
Children like toys and many like teddy bear toys and the like. Do not adults? Maybe we don’t play with them but some people have dolls to display, bobble head sports toys, and items that are animals such as lamps.
As adults, on HOME we can become children again and play with toys whether clothing, animals and what have you. Some of them are quite pretty and if they move like the pet animals do some of us can identify with them even if they are only make believe.
Toys, toys, toys. I like my HOME tractor too.
Good point on the collecting purpose of companions. I collect comic busts and statues in RL i was really into the dunnys and designter toys, and in Home i love reward collecting. Specially display figures.
I too thought that companions were going to go no where. I felt like when I had one out like I feel when my shoe is untied. I never considered them as an accessory. I think you are right. i don’t think they are used as pets as much as jewelry.
Lots to think about. Great article.
I haven’t bought many companions actually, I have had many given through the gift machine and rewards seem to all be companions lately. Of the few I have bought I have couple of dogs. I don’t use them as much as many people I have seen, but I was always one who believed that pets would sell well in Home. The friends I have had for a long time will tell you I was talking about the need for them way back when I first got into Home over two years ago.
It is human nature to want to love something outside of ourselves, in real life as you stated there are few of us who don’t dote on a pet in their lives or at least have in the past like me.
I am not in a position to have a pet right now, haven’t had one for over six years. But that pull to own one still exists inside of me. I feed it now with buying bird seed and watching the wonderful finches, bluejays and other wild birds come to eat it on my porch. Having a pet in Home can fill a need or it can be a sign of prowess in a game, or like you said it can be way of showing a part of who we are. Nice read Norse as always.
You hit the nail on the head!! Nice article Norse. My Maine Coone recently traveled to the Rainbow Bridge. I adopted her from the shelter when she was 5, and I had her for 8 years. Before she died she became very, very emaciated and frail..and her need to be with me grew stronger. I’d like to believe because she found comfort in my love for her and I think she knew that I needed to hold her more knowing she wasn’t going to be around much longer. She was always with me up to the night she died..then she snuck off to her “cat room” to die in peace.
She was the coolest cat I’ve ever had…more like a dog..(sorry) LOL! It never bothered her when the house was full of all her old dog pals (my personal dogs) or if it was full of 12 puppies or 6 Boxer’s waiting for new homes. (I’ve rescued Boxer’s for over 22 years and for a time ran the local Boxer Rescue in my city..so there was always an influx of dogs in the house.) She used the doggie door just like the dogs, and she knew when to just hunker down and wait till the slobber-bath was over! Heehee
I miss her so much…. Don’t know if I’d feel that way about one of my Companion’s in Home if they decided to take one away, but I can tell you that I’ve formed a VERY strong bond with Blinking Binx…he’s in ALL of my seventy-something spaces. He’s my mascot in Home, and if he disappeared…YEP, I’d grieve!
Wow. That’s erm, my cat! Uhmm, kinda. I have a rescue cat and I couldn’t figure out her breed. A friend of mine mentioned Korat but I always thought they were smaller. The stuff you said and the pictures though… Scary. Is she vocal too? My Kitty goes on like she’s talking to you sometimes (yeah Kitty, the guy I got her from had a wealth of imagination) and she’s also the least graceful cat I’ve known. Half the time I just call her The Wreaking Ball. I’ve no idea how she managed to survive catching her own food, she’d manage to knock over a tree somehow…
I am so sorry to hear of the Norsecat’s frailties, my sympathies are with you.
As for virtual pets, I don’t care much for them really, I have a few free ones that I never use, but the Journey rug monster thing is a good example of a pet that defines a statement. I wouldn’t really buy one unless it was to make a particular point or really finish off a costume, like a Ring Master and a Lion or something. Oh! I did get an Aibo dog, but only coz I can’t justify a real one, but at least it’s interactive.
I think it’s just another form of pet = fashion like you said, but I’d much rather people who live in the “now” buy virtual pets, then switch them off when they’re not cool anymore than doing a *ahem* similar thing with real, living creatures.
Korats tend to be slightly smaller than a typical housecat, but they’re solidly built. It’s one of the best ways to distinguish them from Russian Blues, which tend to be more dainty in construction.
The Norsecat, like Korats in general, is a very vocal creature. They’re crossbred with Siamese, so they’re highly intelligent, polysyllabic cats. And yeah, a hallmark of the breed is their, um, destructive floppiness. Living with a Korat is living with a cute but destructive force of klutziness. I’ve wanted to wring that cat’s neck for all the damage she’s caused, but she’s just such a *loving* fluffball that all is forgiven — particularly now that she’s near the end of her days.
For an example of the Norsecat in action, see: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUZqslGWYTM
If Home companions ever become more interactive, I might end up revisiting them. Until then, they’re just another fashion accessory.
Actually, the first Korat introduced into the United States was brought to New York by a TWA employee in 1963. Said kitten ripped the hell out of his apartment and shrieked at the top of her lungs whenever he was out of sight. He gave her to a friend -- quickly. In Thailand (point of origin for Korats), they are called Blue Siamese. When you cross-breed them with a seal point Siamese, you get 3 Blue point Siamese (3 times of out of a litter of 4) and one Korat. If you want a treat, look both of them up on Google images. The big difference between a Korat and a Russian Blue is the eyes: Korats have green eyes (like the cat in your photos, Norse), the Korat face is heart-shaped, and Korats are fine-boned and slightly smalled than the Russian Blue. And they are ‘floppy’ cats, beautiful to look at but clumsy, extremely vocal, and tend to bond with one person, ignoring everyone else in the household.
Oh my gawd! Yeap, “floppy, vocal, destructive, loving, green eyes” it all fits like Lego. Thanks for putting it in stone what breed she is guys. That last thing you said in your post keara; “tend to bond with one person, ignoring everyone else in the household” well, when my daughter was born Kitty went the huff with us for about 9 months! She was obviously jealous and knew what was coming lol
When I adopted the Norsecat from the shelter, she was between two and three years old; her prior owners had put her up for adoption because they’d just had a baby and the cat was jealous, spraying on the baby’s clothes and elsewhere.
I’ll never forget the Norsecat when I first met her. She was confused, hurt, depressed. She didn’t understand why she’d been abandoned. She gave nothing but love.
She was scheduled to be killed in the next day or two. Nobody wanted her.
There was no question that she was the one I was there to rescue.
That first night, after she got used to her new surroundings, I remember holding her on my lap. She was sleeping. One of my tears splashed on her fur and woke her up. She reached up with one paw and planted it on my shoulder, immediately concerned for *my* well-being. That was it. She and I bonded that first night.
And on the last night, twelve years later, she was on my chest. The inflammation had reached her brain. She’d just had a horrific bout of convulsions and seizures. She was all but blind. Her body wouldn’t stop flinching. She was cold. But she was lucid long enough for us to say our goodbyes to each other. She knew it was the end. So did I.
I miss her purr. Her voice. I held her as she went out. This house is empty without her. But at least she’s not in pain any more. She should have died half a year ago, and I spent a fortune to keep her going. It gave me six precious months with her that I’ll always cherish. But there comes a time when things simply…stop.
She’s immortalized in an HSM April Fools Day video. If you look closely, she’s already ill, and perilously thin. The eyes are sunken. She was already receiving medical treatments every other day at that point. But there was enough of her to still play. And for the longest time, she simply wondered *why* she was in pain. It was only at the end, when the pain was insurmountable, that she resigned herself to the fact that there was no coming back, no getting better. And I held her and loved her as her candle flickered out of this world.
I don’t know if any of this has anything to do with the article on virtual pets. Frankly I don’t care. After eighteen months of giving to the Home community, I can be forgiven a personal indulgence. She just died. I’ve had other pets before — other cats — but this was different. That cat was like a daughter to me. And I loved her.
If you’re ever blessed with the good fortune of being loved by a Korat, it’s like nothing else I can describe. It’s an intense, pure, unconditional love. Wherever she is now — whether I ever see her again or not — I hope she’s in a better life. She more than deserves it.
I feel for you. I have known people who have cried more for their pet dying than when their parents died. Death is an unwanted mandated detail to life. As I used to joke in high school, “The leading cause of death is birth.”
If you don’t mind, I would like to bring this back to the subject by saying as a creator of virtual pets, I saw no way of creating a bond that anyway resembled real life. The closest I came was that when you left the dog out when you left the apartment, he would come meet you at the door when you came back. I had plans to have them sit next to you when you sat on a couch, but we ran out of time. So he sits on the floor.
For me, the thing I miss most about not having a pet is the touching. The petting, the playing, them walking on you to get your attention. It is about having a thinking animal interacting with you in a physical way. Short of The Matrix, I have no idea how to recreate any of that in a virtual world.
Which, along with movement issues, lead me to create the Robotic Canine and the Robotic Feline. They feel to me exactly right. They do not react to me emotionally. They are not there to bring me back to what is important (“I know you just dented the car, but could you feed me?”). I am unclear as to how to make a true virtual friend.
For the foreseeable future, virtual friends are just toys. But, as I don’t have to tell you, you have attracted a lot of real friends. See you soon!
I’m sorry Norse, I had to stop reading your post about half way through because I’m at work and I could already feel myself welling up and it’s not a good look for dealing with the general public when you’ve got red eyes and a sniffy nose. But I completely understand the loss you’re feeling mate, and for that my sympathies are with you.
I remember when my childhood pet Mishka came home from being run over; she pulled herself home with her front paws (since her pelvis and back legs had been shattered) just so she could come to die with me. Cats have an intensity when they’re in their final stages, almost like they know what’s going happen after they’re gone.
I find it sad the family that had the Norsecat couldn’t compromise for her. As I said, Kitty was intensely jealous of our daughter, and seemed to take it out on my partner more than me, as if she knew that my partner had birthed this thing that was going to take away her position of most-loved-thing-in-the-house. And I won’t pretend I wasn’t concerned; when a cat starts taking claw-swipes at your infant child you have a parental drive that will make you re-evaluate the house-hold situation. My partner began to dislike Kitty and even see her as a threat to our child, and I gotta say, I did consider finding her a new family too, but what stopped me was the fact that I was already her rescuer and as such, responsible for her well being and future. Just because we can’t communicate in a verbal way with animals, doesn’t mean we can’t get our point across. I know why she was upset, and I had to somehow convince her she wasn’t going to be cast aside for this “new edition” rather than kick her out her home for being confused and jealous.
My daughter’s nearly 3 now and her and Kitty still fight about who gets to sit on me when I finally get to sit down myself, sometimes they compromise and they both smother me at the same time. Although there’s an obvious jealousy still in Kitty, I’ve made it clear that she’s still a part of our family and we have plenty of love to give her.
So sorry for your loss Norse. Pets become such a piece of our hearts that it hurts intensely when they are gone. I hope you do find solace in the fact that she is no longer in pain and that she obviously loved you as much as you loved her. My sympathies.