Do you want to adopt FinnGus?
The competition has ended.
After the pandemic, an untold number of animals ended up in shelters. I too adopted a furry friend: FinnGus. Now, I’m trying to find him a new home.
Four strong legs to rest my hands on. Two pointed ears for cuteness. A spacious body to type on and a tail to control the volume. FinnGus meets all the criteria of a superb cat keyboard. He’s the first olive-green model that I’ve come across. I like him a lot, but I already have enough keyboards to worry about.
I’m afraid this means FinnGus is only a temporary companion. I know that’s his real name; it’s engraved on the back. You’ll also see some of his insides there. A circuit board, where I first had to solder on his brain – the controller – and the spinal cord – the diodes. Since commissioning, FinnGus has been purring peacefully as I type. The sociable cat takes his name from his role models, Finn and Gus, the real cats owned by Jack, FinnGus’ inventor.
His furry nose didn’t first feel the light of day after your usual birth, but following a Fused Deposition Modelling process, or FDM for short. This process involves adding layer after layer. Grooves, present since birth, are still clearly visible on his side as a result. Unfortunately, he also suffered a birth defect, so-called layer separation. One layer didn’t adhere properly to the other. That’s why there’s a crack on his back.
At 42 centimetres in length from head to butt, FinnGus is within the norm. With a thickness of 14 to 28 millimetres, however, he’s on the thin side. If you end up adopting him, you should always provide him with enough power via the centrally placed USB-C port.
FinnGus isn’t just olive green. His petting zone typing zone is a black-purple. Three colours, wow! He owes this colouring to his third cousin: the Black Panther. You read that right, FinnGus has roots in Wakanda. And not only that. He doesn’t have hair, so he's hypoallergenic – without even resembling an overgrown naked mole rat.
When typing, FinnGus unfortunately sounds a bit off – Katzenjammer, you could say. This is due to his primary construction material, polylactide. Cornstarch isn’t known for its astounding acoustics. This is something that colleague David Lee and I already discovered while building our ukulele. Making things even harder on our poor tomcat’s voice is the fact that he consists of three parts. They’re connected via the cover plate, screwed on from below. FinnGus is thus a so-called top-mount keyboard. They’re unruly in nature, only yielding minimally when typing. His stabilising muscles also aren’t the most athletic. Even after several hours of fine-tuning, the long keys rattle.
You won't find a number pad on his furry behind either – cats can't count, after all. Besides, you wouldn’t want to touch that end too much anyway. Still, I was gracious enough to grant him testicles and an anus. And things ever become too much, you can turn up the volume using the knob in the middle of the tail and escape reality with The Lion Sleeps Tonight.
See, FinnGus is versatile despite being a bit rough around the edges. And if you find his flaws more appealing than off-putting, you can compete to become his owner. All he really wants is a loving home. Applying is easy, just click on «Participate».
Do you want to adopt FinnGus?
The competition has ended.
From big data to big brother, Cyborgs to Sci-Fi. All aspects of technology and society fascinate me.