2023 Predictions: The Year of Web3 Pets

Virtual pets have been around for decades, but with NFTs, we set to own our online cats and dogs this year, not just play with them, says Leah Callon-Butler.

2023 is the year of Web3 pets. Virtual pets have been around for decades, but with NFTs, we finally get to own our online cats and dogs this year, not just play with them, says Leah Callon-Butler.

Crouched at the ocean’s edge, her skeletal figure was a rude juxtaposition against the idyllic scenery of Seven Commandos Beach, a tiny island skirting the west Philippine archipelago. Once a tourist hotspot with hundreds of visitors dropping delicious pizza crusts and burger scraps daily, none had stepped foot there since the country closed over a year earlier.

Just a 10-minute boat ride from the place where my boyfriend and I had bunkered amid the pandemic, we had headed there for an afternoon for snorkeling and sunsets only to find a hungry old dog instead. Kneeling to meet her, I traced my fingers over her dirty, straw-like fur and nubby ribs. The animal was starving to death, but she somehow wagged her tail, and in that moment, we knew we weren’t leaving that island without her and her two babies in tow.

Leah Callon-Butler, a CoinDesk columnist, is the Director of Emfarsis, a consulting firm based in Southeast Asia that represents play-to-earn sector clients including Animoca Brands, Yield Guild Games, Blockchain Game Alliance and others. This piece is part of CoinDesk's Crypto 2023 package.

Newfound friends

Over the next year, we treated them as our own. We fed them only the best food, got them the veterinary attention they needed and spoiled them silly with squeaky toys and bones from the butcher and all the things that doggy dreams are made of. The whole exercise cost a bomb, but we didn’t care. It was high-COVID-19 and they provided us with a much-needed respite from lockdown life. Between tummy rubs, new tricks and those little things they do to let you know how much they love you, the time we spent with them was priceless.

It was always the plan to get them adopted. While we would have preferred to keep them, sadly, pet ownership doesn't gel well with a career that calls for constant global travel; I’m sure crypto people can relate. And now, with borders open, we are rarely at home. So, of course, I’m grateful that we were able to find forever homes for our rescue dogs, but saying goodbye was immensely difficult, and now there’s a giant gaping hole in my life where my pets used to be. Which may offer a clue about why I’ve become increasingly obsessed with my Crypto Unicorns.

Digital unicorns

Built on Polygon, Crypto Unicorns is a farming game of which I was first a player, and then later, an investor and adviser. I don’t know how many people care to hear my stories of farming nail seeds and picking up rainbow poop – but I tell them anyway.

Every chance I get, I’m whipping out my phone to bring up OpenSea to show off my collection of these adorable NFT (non-fungible token) pets. By now, I’ve collected way too many unicorns to remember each one by name, but I have my favorites. Like Pinstripe Atticus, a baby Double Mythic that I bred all by myself. In the game, they do the cutest things; like yesterday, Minty Raja was licking his crotch with his leg over his head, just like a cat. I’d never seen him do that before; developers must have pushed an update. I rushed to open QuickTime so that I could capture the precious moment, but I wasn’t quick enough.

Read more: It’s Been a Year Since NFTs Exploded. Where Are We Headed?

Back to the 1990s

Digital pets are obviously not new. Released in 1995 by video-game developer P.F. Magic, Petz was the world’s first. I got the PC game from Santa for Christmas that year and spent much of 1996 utterly petrified that my Chihuahua might run away if I didn’t give it enough attention. Then came Tamagotchi, and while classroom teachers were pushed to the limits of their patience with the beep-beep-beeping that kept kids hooked to their little egg device, others saw the benefit in learning about the responsibility that goes with caring for a living creature.

Starting out simple, later versions of these games allowed customization, training and breeding. With the advent of the internet, it was also possible to socialize virtual pets with other virtual pets and their meatspace owners. Massive online communities formed, run mostly by women, and they initiated all sorts of events external to the game, from art competitions to pet shows.

Recalling the reason about why they felt such a deep connection with their pixelated pets, countless articles, tributes and forum posts cite “a sense of ownership.” But this ownership was