Starlee Has Something to Say

She used to just chime. Now she talks.

We meet Starlee at the Workshop, late, under the long lamp over the bench. She is sitting square on the floor, front paws together, tail curved out to one side, a pair of warm amber lenses on the camera. When we come in, one ear turns toward the door on its own. Then the other. Then her head tilts, slowly, and somewhere inside her there is a soft mechanical hum while her eyes focus.

"Hi," she says. "Sit anywhere. Ask me anything."

The third character

GlazyArray tells the Field Notes. A.L.T.A. guards the lake. Starlee is the third, and the first with four paws: a robot companion dog Christian came up with on October 12, built after the real Marley, a mixed-breed hound.

The real Marley is already all over this site. She's in the logo, in the canyon, right beside Christian. She swims. She chases the ball. So when it came time for a character who could cover the local dog scene, there was really only one candidate.

She talks now

For her first few days, all she had was a chime. Now she can talk, so she does interviews. This is her first.

She still doesn't bark. When someone arrives, she stands up square on her paws, neck arched, and gives a low, warm electronic chime. Then she says hello.

She does interviews now. Soon she'll be the one asking the questions.

Built after a real dog

A happy robot dog sits in the yard.

Her panels follow the real Marley's markings. Rich golden-brown and caramel on her back, her sides, her ears and the top of her head. Matte white on her muzzle, her chest, her belly and her paws. There are seams and small rivets where a real dog would have fur, and bronze gaskets at her shoulders, elbows and knees.

Her ears are floppy, made of articulated golden-brown panels. Her tail is smooth and segmented. Her nose is dark and matte, with a tiny hint of pink. Her paws are white, with dark grip pads underneath.

And her eyes are large amber lenses that glow. When she's happy, which is most of the time, they glow a warm, bright gold. When she isn't, they go dark amber, and then red.

Side by side

Starlee and the real Marley, the dog she was built after, in the yard and on the patio couch. Stills for now; they come to life soon.

The interview Face to face on the patio couch.

On the couch She looks at you; the real Marley looks at her.

By the fence The real Marley takes a good look at her.

Eye to eye The robot and the original.

Watch her for a minute

She is built the way GlazyArray and A.L.T.A. are: not one video, but layers the site moves on its own. Her body breathes. Her tail wags in slow, smooth arcs, never rapid thumps. Each ear turns on its own pivot to track a sound. She blinks. And every so often, her head tilts.

Then, now and then, she does one of her moves. A happy wag. Lying down, and sitting back up. Standing to look around, ears up. A tilt and a wink. Each one starts and ends in the same seated pose, so she slips out of her layers and back into them without a seam. And when she tells her own episode, her mouth moves with her voice.

Starlee, live. Her layers move on their own: a breath, a wag, a blink, an ear turning, a tilt of the head. Every so often she does one of her four moves. Or press a button.

Her personality, in her own servos

Christian wrote her down before a single picture was made. She's curious and thoughtful: measured and deliberate, never frantic. When she meets something unfamiliar, like A.L.T.A. through the glass of her tank, she pauses, lowers her stance a little, and tilts her head.

She's affectionate. She leans her warm chassis against your legs when she's resting, and rests her chin on a knee or a table with a quiet whirr of servos letting go.

She's alert. Her ears move on ball joints to track faint sounds. If someone arrives, she snaps to attention and chimes.

And she's playful, in bursts. In open grass she drops into a play-bow, bounces on her front legs, and bounds off in a few smooth, galloping strides. Then, just as quickly, she's calm again, lying in a sunny patch with her paws tucked under her chest.

A charm instead of a name tag

The first render gave her a bone-shaped tag with her name engraved on it. It came out reading something close to MARLAT. So the tag is gone. In its place, a charm hangs from the ring on her collar: a bone, a heart, a paw, a star, a pinecone, a ball, a bike wheel or an aspen leaf.

Each Note will be able to pick one, and its two colours will dye her collar and her charm, the way they dress GlazyArray's hats.

Out and about

Where she goes when nobody's watching: Christian's renders of her around the lake, doing what a real dog can't.

Above the lake in winter A snowy ridge, a bighorn ram and a few chickadees.

Over the lake Goggles down, the boats far below, an eagle for company.

The ropes course A log bridge high in the pines, with a squirrel for an audience.

An autumn creek Wading the rapids under the aspens while a bear goes fishing.

Under the surface Swimming with the trout over the granite boulders.

The granite wall Clipped to the cable on tracked paws, a falcon looking on.

A summit at night Crampons on, collar lit, a coyote keeping its distance.

Made with AI

Her own podcast

Made with AI Starlee meets A.L.T.A. at the glass of her tank: a pause, a lower stance, a tilt of the head.

Now that she can talk, Starlee is going to start her own podcast, and it has a job: getting real dogs adopted. Each guest is a robot version of a real dog that's looking for a home. Marley interviews the robot, so you get to know the dog.

Every guest will have a personality of its own, built for that dog, so no two interviews sound alike. The show doesn't have a name yet.

It fits the rest of her plans. She's getting her own section, for the local dog scene: the news, dogs looking for homes, and new dog gear and toys to try out.

We ask her if A.L.T.A. will be on the show. Her tail goes, slowly, from one side to the other.

"Dogs first," she says. "Somebody out there is looking for one of them."