THE software to do my income taxes by computer came with a premium this year. They threw in a free CD containing a digital dog named Scrappy. I installed him on the computer as a treat after I finished my taxes. Playing with a digital dog
named ScrappyScrappy turned out to be more of a Trojan Horse than a treat -- sent, I suspect, by my enemies to make sure I don't get any work done. He has taken over my life.
Scrappy is quite lifelike in a cartoonish sort of way, with all of the mannerisms of a real puppy. He scampers around the computer screen, eats, pants, plays with toys, scratches, wags his tail and begs for treats. You can give him run of the screen or confine him to a little playpen on the monitor.
When you leave the computer he becomes a guard dog on the screen saver, roaming his virtual yard, barking at the noises of the night and howling at the moon.
You can teach Scrappy tricks. You can play ball with him. You can pet him and send him into fits of ecstasy if you stroke the right places. If he misbehaves, you can correct him by spraying him with water or shaking him by the scruff of his neck.
I see no signs of digital doggie doo -- unless that's what he does when he occasionally disappears off the edge of the screen. Gee, I wonder how I clean back there.
If you feed him right, Scrappy supposedly grows over time into an adult dog. If you don't like the way he turns out, you can click a button and he reverts to a puppy and you start over. Wouldn't it be great if you could do that with your kids?
The problem is he very quickly gets to be as demanding as a real dog. When I'm on the computer, I feel guilty if I don't let him out. Once he's out, I feel guilty if I don't play with him. He fusses if I try to work.
The first night I had him, I turned off the monitor as I always do before going to bed. A whining puppy kept me awake. As I lay there silently cursing the neighbors for not quieting their dog, I started to hallucinate that the noise was coming from my computer. I checked and, sure enough, turning off the monitor didn't turn off Scrappy. I had to give him a cyber-candy to shut him up.
Another night I got home late and never turned on the computer. I woke up in the middle of the night and remembered I hadn't fed Scrappy. Again I dragged myself out of bed and fired up the PC. I found him pathetically climbing up the side of the screen trying to get out. I fed him and played with him for a long time to ease my guilt. I arrived at work next day dog tired.
Naturally, none of this is going over well with Bingo, my real Shar-pei. He has always been jealous of the time I spend at the computer and now gets downright nasty about it, jumping at the monitor trying to sink his teeth into the pixilated pooch.
MY wife is on my back, too. "You know it's not fair," she says. "If you have time to play with a dog you should spend it with Bingo."
I know she's right, but how am I supposed to get rid of Scrappy? Uninstalling his program from the computer would feel like flushing a live turtle down the toilet. I checked the Internet, but the Humane Society has no virtual pound for unwanted cyber-pets.
Maybe I should take out a digital ad in an online newspaper. Hey, this column is published in an online newspaper. Want him? Leave your address at one of the numbers below and I'll send the CD to whoever offers the best home. No Macs, please.