Texas woman first to buy cloned cat
California company sells first cloned cat, generating ethics debate
When Makis died almost 5 years ago, I briefly wondered…”What if…?” What if I could have him cloned? What if I could recreate what I had just lost? At that time, of course, the technology was not available. Even it had been, the cost would have been prohibitive. Still, I had to at least consider the ramifications of the question. In the end, I decided that life has a defined span for a reason. What exactly is that reason? Well, I’ll leave the resolution of that questions to intellects more nimble than my own. Suffice it to say that it just didn’t feel right to mess with the natural order of things.
A woman in Dallas apparently has decided that she has no such moral reservations, and she paid $50,000 to make history by cloning her late feline companion.
I can understand the reasons why one might want to take this step, and I am certainly not going to condemn someone for doing so, but I do not think I could take this step myself. To my way of thinking, cloning a cat may not violate the letter of natural law, but it certainly runs counter to the spirit of it.
An almost bigger question is that of the $50,000. Does it not seem rather self-indulgent to spend that kind of money on assuaging your pain when there are so many more “productive” uses available for that money? “Productive” is, of course, a highly subjective term. Nonetheless, the question is legitimate. To me, it IS self-indulgent. Don’t get me wrong, I adore cats. Our world would be a much poorer place without them. I just don’t know that spending $50,000 to recreate a deceased pet could be defined as good stewardship.
There is also another valid question that should be asked. By recreating what you have lost, are you denying yourself something new? Not that the pain of losing a pet should be minimized. Lord knows I’ve suffered my share of pain in this regard. Still, suffering is part of life. In “recreating” a lost pet, are we denying ourselves an opportunity to learn and grow with another feline companion?
And here’s another thing to consider: thousands of unwanted cats are euthanized every single day. Rather than spending an absurd amount of money to recreate a deceased cat, why not go to a shelter and find a friend to bring home? It will cost you significantly less money, and who knows? You might just find a new companion.
Life is not about replacing those we lose. It’s about respecting their memory and moving on with our own lives. That is the natural order of things. Death is an immutable reality. Cloning a deceased pet may seem desirable while one is in the throes of grief, but it will only provide you with a genetic copy. There is no guarantee that the traits that made your lost companion truly unique will be duplicated in the clone.
You do have to admit, thought, that Little Nicky is one desperately cute cat….
Great post.
I'm a dog person rather than a cat person, but I've thought over the issue as well, coming to the same basic conclusion. Thinking of all the dogs and cats euthanized, and how much better spent that money could be in a charitable capacity, I just can't fathom it.
Every cat I've known has had a unique personality, including siblings who grew up together. While some patterns of behavior are hereditary and common within breeds, I can't help but wonder if this kitty clone will demonstrate distinct individuality compared to its DNA donor. Only the rich crazy lady will know for sure...
(I won't embark on on a libertarian rant about her right to behave as she has.)
Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night!
For me and you, yes -- this would be expensive foolishness. Perhaps it is even expensive foolishness to the paying customers. But early adopters are the ones that finance much of progress.
Just like the X-prize for space flight, Savings and Clone customers are putting their money where it counts. It might be silly for private enterprise to do a quick trip to space and back when we have already been to the moon, but it's well-spent seed money to open a door to a world of open possibilities.
And, this time, for a memento of such a gargantuan expenditure in the interests of science, you get a cool pet cat that oddly reminds you of one you once loved.
To clone or not to clone
The picture in the paper immediately caught my eye: a blonde with an adorable tabby kitten in her arms. The cat, Little Nicky, had the distinction of being the first commercially cloned feline. His owner, a Dallas resident named Julie, paid $50,000 US to get her late cat Nicky (Big Nicky) cloned. The procedure was made possible through Genetic Savings & Clone of California.
In the last few years, the cloning of animals ñ and potentially of humans ñ has sparked a heated debate throughout the world, particularly after the first cloned animal, the sheep Dolly, made her appearance in 1997. Many religious leaders, for example, have condemned the practice as contrary to the will of God. Other individuals, though, have hailed it as a sign of scientific progress.
I was a little shocked at the womanís decision to pay $50,000 to clone her cat. In a democracy, however, we are all free to spend our money as we see fit, no matter how frivolous or outlandish the purchase. For instance, nothing is stopping me from spending $10,000 on lipstick (for the record, I donít wear make-up at all).
While I donít have any legal problems with cloning, I do have some ethical ones. First of all, if Julie wanted another cat so badly, why didnít she adopt one from an animal shelter? Going through the drastic step of cloning an animal when there are so many in need of homes canít help but strike me as somewhat immoral.
I also have psychological misgivings about cloning. It seems that people who clone a pet in the hope of making him or her ìlive foreverî are denying the fact of death. All living creatures die at some point. Most of the time, we outlive our pets. It is natural to want to ìhang onî to them, because the loss of an animal, or even the thought of losing one, is hard (I know; my cat Claudia died last year). But owning a pet involves accepting the realities of nature, including death.
I am sceptical as well of the notion that a cloned animal can truly replace the original one. Just because the two have the same genetic makeup does not mean they are ìidentical.î A well-known example of two individuals who shared the same genes but had very different personalities is that of Chang and Eng Bunker, the original Siamese twins. Chang was essentially an alcoholic, whereas Eng did not drink at all. By the same token, I wonder whether if I cloned my cat Mama her clone would love catnip as much as she does. So by cloning your pet, will you really be getting the same animal as before?
When my cat Claudia died I had her cremated and put her ashes in a vase that now sits on my desk. I also have a photograph of her on the mantlepiece. But even these tangible reminders of her donít compare with the memories of the fun and happy times I had with her. And although I adopted another cat afterwards, this cat did not ìreplaceî Claudia. Nobody could ñ not an unrelated animal, not a brother or sister of hers, not a clone. Every animal, and person, is a unique individual. Perhaps the best way to make our pets ìlive foreverî is to cherish them while they are alive and remember them after they die.