You can't clone a personality

Still, while admitting the limitations of cloning, this company is betting people love their animals so much that they'll fork over a down payment for a house (OK, a starter home on the east side, but still) for a bio-engineered replica of their pet. And, they already have orders. My organization, the Peninsula Humane Society & SPCA, was asked our opinion. After all, we see thousands of people adopt and fall in love with new animals each year and just as many searching frantically for lost pets (and reunite many of them).

Early last week, I received a call from Dan Rather's team at the CBS Evening News! Not coincidentally, CBS visited on Thursday, the same night our Pet Loss Grief Support Group meets. I can't say how the segment will turn out, but trust that the finished product, even in its edited version, will represent the group's sentiments. Each participant said they wouldn't have cloned their pet given the opportunity. "He might look the same, but he wouldn't be the same," said one. "It just isn't right - I'd know the difference," said another. One person likened a clone to a robot or ghost, saying that the spirit just wouldn't be there in the $50,000 knock-off.

I was clear with the reporter. The Peninsula Humane Society & SPCA could never find fault with anyone who loves their pet so much that they would consider cloning. We know what a pet can mean to someone. Still, we object to the practice itself. Setting some reasons aside (pet cloning is cost-prohibitive for most people at $50,000 and the research community doesn't yet know if cloned animals live as long or have other health issues or defects), we have other reasons for our position. We see first-hand how many unwanted, healthy animals exist. We also know that adopters love their "second-chance" shelter animals - we receive cards, letters and e-mails daily, telling us as much. Very few adopters come in looking to adopt a dog, cat, rabbit or bird who looks like their old pet, and all of them leave with an animal they will love for his or her unique qualities - goofy, endearing, even somewhat human.

As I sat down for my interview with CBS, I tried not to focus entirely on how cloning would impact our operation, or that of humane societies in general. After all, very few people work for humane societies compared to the number who care for pets. I looked down at my dog Cooper, admitted that I'd love him to be around forever, but that I wouldn't clone him.

Like most people, I don't love my dog for the parts of him that can be cloned, but for the parts than cannot. I love the way he looks when he realizes we are going out for a w-a-l-k. I have to spell it now! I love how excited he gets to see his "grandma" or his special people friends who've known him for years. I don't know how he can be in one room in the house and distinguish a regular paper bag rustle from the rustle of a bag holding food in another room, but he can and I love that too. His sudden bursts of sparkle and giddyap (almost always food-related) are offset by a general, head-hanging, galumphing demeanor - equal parts Scooby Doo and Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, both lovable in their own way.

For me and apparently many others, it's a matter of falling in love with what's on the inside - our pet's personality. Old adages like "it's what on the insides that counts" often stick around for good reason.

Scott Delucchi is the vice president and spokesman for the Peninsula Humane Society.