In Ontario, pit bull owners must, by law, sterilize their pet. If you can put aside for a moment the raft of issues this raises about breed temperament, owner responsibility and the popularity contest that is politicking, you'll see the sunny side of castration: At least there are Neuticles.
The product, a testicular implant for pets, is the brainchild of Gregg Miller, a man whose mission it is to keep dogs across the globe locked and loaded. From his office in Oak Grove, Mo., he sells four models, starting at about $100 a pair: original, natural, ultra-plus and - new! - with epididymis.
He also peddles a fine selection of Neuticles merchandise (bathrobe, barbecue apron, keychain). And he's considering creating Neuticles chocolates, styled à la Cadbury Creme Egg. "I want to get two in a little carton with Neuticle foil on them," he says.
Although he is happy to play up the comic aspect of his product, he is a man with a serious mission. To Mr. Miller, missing balls are no laughing matter. Speaking of the castration of his own dog, Buck, his voice grows grim. "God, it was horrible," he says with an audible shudder.
That trauma was his inspiration for creating Neuticles. His mission? To help dogs reclaim their "God-given" physiques.
A decade later, and with 240,000 sales under his belt (as it were), Mr. Miller is perfectly comfortable talking about things like massaging your pet's scrotum (to prevent scar tissue building up) and the "gooshy-soft" texture of the ultra-plus model.
The rest of the world, however, has some trouble keeping a straight face. Employees of veterinary offices - even ones that have implanted Neuticles at the owner's behest - invariably laugh when asked about the product. "It's kind of a guy thing," said one.
Michelle Cooper, of Brampton, Ont., and her husband decided to put "fake boys" in their French bulldog, Dallas, after seeing Neuticles on a TV show "about weird things people do for their pets."
Ms. Cooper admits it was entirely her husband's idea. "Mostly it was to make sure that Dallas still felt like a man and other dogs wouldn't make fun of him," she says. So, is it a guy thing, I ask. "Oh yeah!" she laughs.
Mr. Miller is a bit offended by this interpretation. He speaks of his mission in strictly humanitarian terms. "You know that a dog would know if their foot was cut off," he says, so why would a dog miss its testes any less? However, he readily admits that he gets calls "all the time" from people who want to upsize their pets' cojones.
Other owners have even more extravagantly macho motivations. One veterinary receptionist tells the story of a client who ordered Neuticles for his pit bull "because he wanted to piss the police off."
If that's not a guy thing, I don't know what is.
Lisan Jutras is a Toronto-based writer and editor. She has two cats, a Boricua dog and many garments covered in pet hair.







