Punters go barking mad for Sony's famous robot dogs

There were no free t-shirts, software giveaways, logoed screen cleaners, badges, mugs or any of the other items that cause large crowds to flock to an exhibition stand, yet people jammed into a small corner of what was, oddly, the back of Sony's big stand at Comdex last week.

The draw? An assembly of gold, black or silver metal that measured 154x266x274mm - "not including tail", as the specification sheet helpfully notes.

Welcome to version 2.0 of Aibo, Sony's famed robot dog, which went on sale in the States during Comdex, in time for holiday gift-giving (assuming the giver has deep pockets). At about $1,500 (€1,744), second generation Aibo - which means "companion" in Japanese - costs around the same as a mid-range desktop computer. Yet the things Aibo can do are, well, pretty amazing, when you consider it is only a computer program and some hardware. That's why the jaded Comdexers typically stopped for at least 10 minutes - many for more than an hour - to watch the little metal dogs waddle around the pen in Sony's digital pet shop.

Coming from the nation that excels in treacly cuteness (think Hello Kitty and Pokemon), the so-called entertainment robots - or robot de compagnie, as the Aibo box notes charmingly in French - epitomise the word cute. They are disconcertingly, preposterously cute; eager and perky, like puppies. People reached out to pet them, call to them, toss them balls, scratch their ears and roll them onto their backs. Grown men and women. Programers. They cooed. They whistled. It had to be seen to be believed.

With sensors built into their heads and backs, Aibos respond to frequent petting by flapping their ears, flashing their LEDlighted eyes, wagging their tails, crouching, rolling over and even doing a little dance. They no longer bark - that was so version 1.0 - but they emit what Sony calls a "tonal language" of noises and melodies.

The combination of tones and movement helped them express six emotions, said a Sony representative - happiness, sadness, surprise, fear, anger, and dislike - although she failed to note if they were programmed to recognise postmen, or would do embarrassing things to one's leg when expressing happiness.

In addition, they will chase (well, in their little shuffling walk) a pink ball, sit back and wave a paw, and have voice recognition that allows them to respond to the name their owners give them and react to conversations.

Tell it to take a picture and Aibo will snap one with the digital camera in its head. The pictures - along with little sentences Aibo composes in a companion diary - can be viewed on a computer. Aibo is also designed to learn - it will abandon activities or perform them more frequently depending on whether people praise and pet, or scold it.

The Japanese have already found them irresistible, with more than 45,000 first-incarnation Aibos finding devoted owners in the robot's first year - a situation that caught Sony by surprise. The company only made 2,000 originally for what it thought would be the niche market of niche markets.

Sony now says it is ready to churn out 60,000 Aibos a month, if need be, to satisfy international buyers.

As any buyer of an electronic form of entertainment knows, add-ons - the stuff that makes it worth owning the basic unit - cost extra. In Aibo's case, this "personality enhancement Aiboware" also has rather silly names.

There's "Hello Aibo" at $80, which "changes your Aibo into a fully mature robot with plenty of energy" - indicating that perhaps you had best keep your Aibo away from other Aibos unless you want lots of little mechanical Aibos and accidents on the carpet. Then there's "Party Mascot" at $90, which let's you play games "like rock, paper, scissors" with your Aibo. "Great for parties and other events," says the brochure. Hmmm.

"Is this some new kind of toy?" asked one man at the display, who promptly recoiled at being told the price. But plenty of others took away forms to apply for an Aibo, which Sony hopes will become this year's gift puppy, barking - er, using tonal language - under the tree on Christmas morning.