By MATT
CRENSON
AP National Writer
FEBRUARY 22,
2000
Not long ago, Richard Denniston found himself
suffering the same anguish that millions of other pet owners have faced.
His little Scottish
terrier had a brain tumor, and it would be only a matter of time before
the dog died. Like most in his shoes, Denniston just wanted to end the
pain.
However, he took it
one step further.
An expert in
mammalian reproductive physiology, Denniston collected a tiny skin sample
from the dog and took it to his laboratory at Louisiana State University,
where he cultured it and froze it in liquid nitrogen.
From that idea,
Denniston started Lazaron BioTechnologies, which will save pet DNA for
$500, plus a monthly storage fee of $10, until cloning Fido becomes a
reality.
Thanks mostly to
the largess of an anonymous California multimillionaire, that day may not
be so far off.
"It
will happen,'' says Mark Westhusin, a Texas A&M professor of
veterinary physiology leading a dog cloning team. "It could happen
extremely soon if everything worked out.''
Most experts put
successful dog cloning a year to five years down the road. The cost is
bound to be prohibitively expensive at first, but it would eventually come
down to a few thousand dollars, says Carol Bardwick, the president of
Canine Cryobank in San Marcos, Calif.
"We've
been putting up cells since Dolly made her debut,'' Bardwick says.
Dolly, the sheep
which started it all, was the first clone ever produced from an adult
mammal cell. When her existence was first announced in 1997, most
biologists believed that cloning was decades in the future if it was
possible at all.
Since then, cattle,
goats, mice and monkeys have been cloned in labs, and pets are likely to
be next.
"I
really believe that the technology is going to become available for many
species in the near future,'' Denniston says.
At least four
companies are hoping to cash in on that technology — Lazaron, Canine
Cryobank, perPETuate of Newington, Conn., and Genetic Savings and Clone of
College Station, Texas.
When a pet owner
contacts a gene bank, it will send a DNA collection kit. A veterinarian
performs a routine skin biopsy, immerses the sample in a special transport
medium and sends it to the gene bank.
At the bank, the
skin cells are placed in a growth medium that causes them to divide a few
times. Then they're frozen in liquid nitrogen at minus 376 degrees
Fahrenheit.
Genetic Savings and
Clone was founded by A&M's Westhusin and Lou Hawthorne, a documentary
film producer, when a wealthy friend of Hawthorne's heard about Dolly and
wanted to know if dogs could be cloned.
Hawthorne learned
the process was a possibility, albeit a costly one.
The friend — who
insisted his identity remain a secret — gave the go-ahead, and Hawthorne
hired a scientific advisory board. In March 1998, he awarded Westhusin a
$2.4 million grant for dog cloning research.
Dog cloning may be
more appropriate, oddly enough, to lovable mutts than high-quality
purebreds, says Princeton University cloning authority Lee Silver.
Because mutts are
unique and irreproducible creatures, cloning would be the only way to get
anything like the original dog, Silver says.
A purebred, on the
other hand, is a consistent product, genetically designed by years of
careful breeding to come out the same every time.
Westhusin says
there are still one or two major research issues to iron out.
For example, dogs
are very stingy with their eggs, producing a batch only once every six
months to a year. That means that until they can induce dogs to come into
heat, the researchers only have a few eggs a week to work with.
Meanwhile, the DNA
keeps coming.
"Certainly
some of our customers are crazy,'' Hawthorne says. "But far more of
them are simply crazy about their animals.'' |