The Bay Area itself is filled with evidence of cloning. Go to such places as the Arrow Bar and you'll find a strong appearance of cloning, being as everyone there has the exact same stupid '80s paint-by-number haircut. It's like they all got on some large bus and were taken to a remote beauty-salon factory and given the same damn coiffure, so they can now sit around pouting, as if to say, "Yes, we are all individuals! We are all unique!"
Elsewhere, Korean scientists are cloning for the greater good. They plan to use it to advance stem cell science and medicine. Way to go, good-for-humanity-doers!
In the Arnold Schwarzenegger movie The 6th Day, however, a pet-cloning company called RePet uses cloning for pet lovers, rather than science, promising this to pet owners: "Should accident, illness or age end your pet's natural life, our proven genetic technology can have him or her back the same day, in perfect health, with zero defects, GUARANTEED."
A real-life company in Sausalito called Genetic Savings and Clone (note: It has a funny name) now offers a similar sort of service. GS&C is the world's leader in the "cloning of exceptional pets." (Right now only cats are exceptional.) Yes, unlike those whiny Koreans, the purpose of GS&C is not for the advancement of science, but for pet lovers! Everyone loves pets! Especially those who dress them up in people clothes, like sweaters, and then take pictures of them. That, my friends, is simply a-dorable.
"Cloning is the most precise method of duplicating a pet -- both for appearance and behavioral tendencies," the GS&C Web site says.
Since opening its doors, GS&C has cloned six cats, two for paying customers at a cost of $32,000 per feline. The cloning hijinks began back in 2002 as part of a $3.7 million research project, cleverly dubbed "Operation Copycat" (again with the funny names!), paving the way, as if the researchers were something like Lewis & Clark discovering the Missouri River, only for, well, cat cloning.
GS&C launched its first commercial cat-cloning service, "Nine Lives Extravaganza" (what's with the funny names?!), in February 2004, after five years of research and development. Though cloning is pricey, it's a mere $295 to $1,395 for gene banking, a process in which one saves the DNA of a pet in anticipation of future cloning. Sounds clone-tastic!!!
Conversely, the Korean scientists were quick to note that they do not support the cloning of pets, "or any other members of our family," saying nuclear transfer should be restricted to medical research. Quit being a bunch of big babies, Korea.
Pet cloning seems one step closer to the day when it will be common practice to clone humans -- and I like that! Posing as a potential customer with a boatload of questions, I called Genetic Savings and Clone (note: Name's still funny) to get the full rundown.
To gain a glimpse of the near-distant future (when humans will be cloned!!!), I'll replace the word "cat" with the word "grandma" ("dog" will be rendered as "grandpa") in my conversation with a GS&C representative. This will also make the conversation seem like something out of an evil Gov. Arrrrrnold sci-fi movie, which is never a bad thing.
[Ring-ring]
"Genetic Savings and Clone [funny name -- no argument there]; this is JT."
"Hi. I wanted to know more about how your cloning service works. Is it just grandmas or does it work for grandpas as well?"
"We offer gene banking for both grandmas and grandpas. But as far as cloning services go, we just offer it for grandmas," the cloning rep tells me. "Grandpas are coming shortly, most likely in the next 12 months or so."
"So I wouldn't have to bring my grandma down to the office to do this?" I ask.
"No, she goes to a vet," JT explains; the veterinarian is sent a kit with the tools and instructions necessary to take gene samples and ship them back to the lab. "They are going to do a punch biopsy on your grandma, which is virtually a real common procedure that all vets have done."
"Is there anything that prevents my grandma's genes from not being preserved?" I ask with mild concern. "Like what if I have an injured grandma."
"That could affect some samples," JT replies. "What type of injury are you talking about?"
"My grandma was hit by a car!"
"Is she deceased right now?"
"Not really."
"OK, she's still alive," the GS&C rep remarks. "That should be fine."
Obstacles are explained. Genetic cloning samples can't be taken from a cancerous area. Another factor, though rare, is contamination. "Really most of the time we usually see failures is when we try and get tissue samples from a deceased grandma," he says. "Pretty much right after the death, the clock starts ticking; the sample starts to deteriorate. They need to be refrigerated almost immediately -- either the grandma or the samples. During postmortem is sometimes when we run into problems. That's when we find that those samples are not viable."
"How long can my grandma be dead for?" I ask.
"We do have about five days, and probably even a little bit more -- that's probably on the conservative side," he says. "But that's contingent on it being stored appropriately. So if you're worried that could be something coming in the near future, I recommend you visit our grandma emergency page. Just to be aware of what you need to do if the grandma were to unexpectedly pass on."
The appropriate storing he refers to is refrigeration, not freezing. He stresses that this difference needs to be articulated to the vet (whose instincts are to immediately put the grandma into a freezer). For a deceased grandma, gene banking costs $1,395.
"As long as you refrigerate the grandma and get us those samples pretty quickly, that should work out fine. We recommend you do that when the grandma is alive and well, for a number of reasons. It's cheaper, it's more reliable, and for some reason if we find out those samples are bad, we'll cultivate new ones for free," he says. "You won't have that luxury if you're waiting postmortem."
I make a request. "Can you alter genetic material to change certain annoying aspects of my grandma?"
"Someday perhaps, but right now you're just getting a genetic duplicate," he replies, raining on my DNA-altering parade. "As far as offering that cloning service goes, commercially it probably is a ways away. We're doing grandmas now; grandpas are probably the No. 1 priority in the short term."
"Is Genetic Savings and Clone the only place in the country that offers grandma cloning?" I ask.
"For grandmas; we're the only company that offers commercial grandma cloning. Nobody offers commercial grandpa cloning services right now. Hopefully we'll be the first to do that," he explains. "There are some other companies that just are getting into cloning horses. There are quite a few companies that are in the business of cloning livestock, like cows and pigs and things like that."
"So if I do the gene banking, how long would the process take to get a cloned grandma?"
"Once we verify that those samples are good, you pretty much can clone at any point," he assures. "The best-case scenario would be approximately six months. It's just not a perfect science yet."
"Here's a question," I throw out. "Can you get more than one grandma clone from a single grandma?"
"That's entirely possible. It hasn't happened yet, but as we do more and more of these, I'm sure that scenario will pop up," JT says. "People are always crossing their fingers. It will happen because it's a pretty expensive animal you know. The actual cloning of grandmas right now costs $32,000."
"Does it cost less if you get more than one?"
"If you're saying you want to order more than one, there's not a significant discount to do that. This is not a terribly profitable business for us right now. Right now, we're more concerned about optimizing the science and making sure we have happy clients, but there will probably be a small discount for ordering multiples."
I ask JT, "Is the embryo planted into another grandma, or is it grown in a laboratory where you can come watch it grow?"
"We're basically creating the embryos and planting them in a surrogate mother, and from there it's basically nature taking its course."
"How similar is the new grandma to the old grandma?" I ask. "And do you call it old grandma or the same grandma? What's the term?"
"The 'donor' is the term we generally use," the GS&C rep clarifies. "On the personality side, that's something we don't guarantee. What we do guarantee is -- most cases again -- we do have a full health and appearance guarantee. In most cases, we can guarantee it's going to look exactly the same; you're going to get a healthy animal. We don't guarantee personality, but indications are personalities are very, very similar."
The GS&C guarantee is impressive indeed. If a cloning recipient is not 100 percent satisfied with the clone, the company offers DOUBLE THE CLIENT'S MONEY BACK!!!!!! Yes, $64,000 if the clone is returned before the end of the month. (Is it then off to the animal shelter with the bad clone?!)
"We know that intelligence is genetic, temperament is genetic. Just based on that, right out of the gate you get a very similar animal," the rep shares. As stated in the company's literature, behavioral resemblance might be amplified by duplicating as closely as possible the environment in which the donor was raised. (Just like in the movie The Boys From Brazil!)
"The more we hear from clients who have actually done this, they are using words like 'exact.' You know, they're swearing up and down that personalities are very similar. I don't know if that will hold true for grandpas or not, but in grandmas, it's true that genetics dictate personality."
I press with the harder questions.
"What if the grandma has really bad habits like peeing on the couch, or scratching it up. Can we get rid of that?"
"I think that falls under the umbrella of temperament. That would be a very similar behavior. We do hear back from clients, like, 'He is really attracted to water. She sits in the exact same place where the old one used to sit. It's attracted to the same types of toys or foods.' Or whatever. So I probably think it would be very similar and be tearing up your furniture."
GS&C has happy customers. In fact, the company claims, the gene bank is doing three times the business this year that it did last year. (Figures withheld.) Earlier this year, the firm moved into a brand-new lab in Madison, Wis., which is the world's largest high-tech cloning facility. (Sausalito remains the corporate office.)
"She's back! Oh my God! She's back! I can't fucking believe it! It's her; it's really her! My Fluffy's back!!!!" This is what I imagine those who get their cats cloned scream on receiving their new feline replicas.
Sure, a wise man might say, "Instead of spending $32,000 on getting a cloned copy of your former cat, why not just go to the Humane Society and get one that looks pretty fucking similar?" It doesn't seem like a stroll through the pound would be a real time-consuming task. Cats pretty much all do catlike things. So why not save the $32K and buy a nice new car or something? To put it another way: Dealing with death is a part of life, so why not deal with it?
This is not, apparently, the attitude of the moronically rich. No sirree. They tend, it seems, to think that each of their pets is one in a million. But perhaps I, Mr. Big and Clever, am missing something that only someone whose cat has been cloned can possibly share.
Just in case that was the case, I read over the following true testimonial from someone who'd gone through cat cloning, and really, really tried to put myself in the place of the poor person who had lost a treasured pet.
"I wanted to share some things with you about my baby. She has been here less than 12 hours and she is EXACT, EXACT, EXACT in all of her mannerisms, habits, traits and personality. She is already watching TV like my Gizmo and has already adopted Gizmo's favorite chair, the rocker in the family room.
"She was very vocal when she wanted something or wanted attention which she has displayed several times already, just like my Gizmo.
"I was amazed she tilted her head way back for me and as soon as she did I immediately knew she wanted me to rub under her chin, just like my Gizmo. She can't stand to have me out of her sight, and if I go in another room for only a minute, she either comes looking for me or calls out for me to come back to her, just like you-know-who always has.
"Something else that amazed me was I would always wiggle my index finger in a come-to-me motion and say 'come here' with Gizmo. I was in the hallway, and Little Gizmo was in the family room about 20 feet away, and I did that, and she came running to me without any hesitation.
"I just can't tell you how happy, how ecstatic I am. I feel like I have been born again, like I am alive again. There are no words to describe how happy I am and how very much I would like to thank you. Today I am reliving the happiest day of my life. Thanks to you and Dr. Sperling, I have the light, the love, and the joy of my life again."
At the end of the testimonial, as I wiped away my tears, I couldn't help but think: My God -- that's a lot of money to spend on a little pussy!
