My Giga Pet Is Still Alive (And So Are My 90s Childhood Wounds)

Title: “My Giga Pet Is Still Alive (And So Are My 90s Childhood Wounds)”

Sometimes I sit in traffic and wonder if my old Giga Pet is still mad at me.
I left it in my third-grade backpack in 1998. I think its name was Sparkle. It was a cat. It pooped. A lot.

Now that I’m older and allegedly wiser (debatable), I’ve realized something weirdly profound: that tiny plastic square on a keychain wasn’t just a toy. It was a lesson. In responsibility. In anxiety. In low-battery panic. And in the kind of attachment you only feel toward digital pets who beep at you with more neediness than your last situationship.

Let’s talk about Giga Pets—those beeping, pixelated nuggets of joy and guilt.
And let’s be honest: you either had a Giga Pet or you were a Tamagotchi loyalist. Either way, someone always died when you forgot them during a weekend sleepover.

The Original Pocket-Sized Commitment Issues

Back in the glorious neon-lit haze of the 90s, we didn’t have screen time limits or digital detoxes. We had Giga Pets.

Manufactured by Tiger Electronics, these were virtual pets you could feed, train, clean up after, and panic over when they started blinking sad little pixel eyes at you in math class. They were clipped to our belt loops like little badges of anxiety and pride.

It wasn’t just a pet—it was a status symbol. A friendship deal-breaker. A life lesson in what happens when you ignore a creature that depends on you.

And yes, they beeped like the microwave from hell. But they were ours.

Giga Pet vs. Tamagotchi: The Eternal Pixel War

Okay. Let’s get into it. The drama. The tea.

Tamagotchi vs. Giga Pet.

Think of it as the NSYNC vs. Backstreet Boys of virtual pets. Or iPhone vs. Android. There’s no right answer, just very strong opinions.

Tamagotchis came first (Japan, 1996). Sleek, mysterious, with their alien egg-shaped vibes and a digital pet that evolved based on how well you treated it.

Giga Pets followed closely (USA, 1997). Quirky, relatable, with animals we actually recognized—like dogs, cats, dinosaurs, and the occasional alien, because the 90s were weird like that.

Here’s the thing: Tamagotchis were cooler. But Giga Pets were realer.
They felt messier. Needier. More emotionally chaotic. You could argue they were the more relatable version of virtual responsibility. Like that friend who texts you “I’m fine” but clearly isn’t.

Some even argue Giga Pets were harder to keep alive. Which, as a 10-year-old, was oddly satisfying. Nothing builds confidence like keeping a pixelated goldfish alive for a full week.

The 90s Kid in Me Never Left

Owning a Giga Pet in the 90s was a rite of passage. You learned to check on it between pop quizzes. You begged your teacher not to take it away when it beeped during reading time. You learned that if you didn’t press the right buttons in time, you’d come back to a grave icon and the crushing weight of regret.

I swear, the sound of that death beep is still etched into my soul.

But it wasn’t just about the toy. It was about control. About feeling like something in the world depended on you. When your real life was full of PE and cafeteria politics, that felt powerful.

Now that we’re older, we don’t get pixel poop alerts—we get Slack notifications. But the emotional rollercoaster? Kind of the same.

So… What Happened to Giga Pets?

You’re thinking it.
Are they still around?
Short answer: Yes. Long answer: You might not be ready for the nostalgia storm they bring.

Giga Pets made a comeback. Updated versions exist. Some with color screens. Some that connect to apps. Some with unicorns. (I mean, we’ve earned that, right?)

But the heart of it is the same: feed, clean, train, panic, repeat.

You can buy one on Amazon or dig through your childhood closet and pray your batteries didn’t explode. And yes, they’ve added pause and reset buttons now, which makes me feel both old and personally attacked.

For the record:

• You can turn off a Giga Pet by taking out the battery (though it feels a bit like pulling the plug).
• To reset, just poke the tiny reset hole with a paperclip (or earring post if you’re feeling dangerously nostalgic).
• Pausing is usually done by pressing certain button combos—check your version’s instructions. Or ask the internet. It knows everything now.

Why I Kind of Miss It

In a time when everything moves fast and attention spans are toast, there’s something weirdly grounding about a digital pet who only wants you to remember it exists. Who doesn’t care how many followers you have. Who will literally die of sadness if you ghost it.

…Okay, that got dark. But you get it.

I think about time a lot. About how we spent hours in the United States playing with these little pixel pets, thinking we were learning how to care for something—but maybe we were learning how to care, period.

And now, we have real pets. Or kids. Or jobs. But there’s a part of me that still feels the tiniest jolt when I hear a random beep and wonder, “Did I forget Sparkle again?”

Final Thought: Bring Back the Beep

If you’re a millennial with burnout and a drawer full of memories, consider this your official permission to buy a Giga Pet. Call it therapy. Call it retro. Call it your inner child’s support animal.

Feed it. Train it. Clean up after it.
And maybe—just maybe—you’ll remember that you’re capable of more care than you thought.

After all, if you could keep a pixel cat alive in 1998 with three buttons and a half-dead battery, you’re probably doing just fine.

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Backlinks to Boost Your Virtual Pet IQ:

1. What is a Giga Pet? (Wikipedia)
2. Giga Pet vs Tamagotchi: A Complete Breakdown
3. Giga Pet 90s Nostalgia Thread (Reddit)
4. How to Reset a Giga Pet
5. Where to Buy Giga Pets Today (Amazon)
6. History of Virtual Pets
7. How to Turn Off a Giga Pet
8. Are Tamagotchis and Giga Pets Back in 2024? (CNET)
9. Best Virtual Pets for Adults (Bustle)
10. Why Giga Pets Made Us Who We Are (Buzzfeed)

If you need me, I’ll be ignoring my emails and feeding Sparkle.
Again.