For less than the price of a round of drinks, your dream of owning a Boston Dynamics-style robot attack dog (made of plastic) might just come true.
After 15 years of reviewing tech, this attack robot dog — which shoots, tells stories, and pretends to pee — is easily the weirdest thing I’ve ever tested.
Following a series of questionable late-night decisions on Temu, a slightly battered box arrived at my doorstep. My eyes were immediately drawn to the phrase: “Shoot bullets, you pet!” stamped proudly on the box. And there it was, behind a thin plastic window, lying innocently like a newborn lamb: the plastic world-destroying dog that my 4.5-year-old son instantly named Clippy — for reasons unknown and unexplained.
Clippy is a robot dog. Sort of. My son (who assures me Clippy is male) says he’s clearly inspired by the terrifyingly impressive robot dogs from Boston Dynamics — the famous company leading the robotics revolution.
Now, given Clippy’s $50 price tag (even less if you skip the spinal-mounted turret), I wasn’t expecting engineering brilliance. But with my track record — I once clicked on an Instagram ad promising “animated magic” for less than a pint in London — the temptation was too strong to resist.
The result, inevitably, was a lesson in not believing everything you see in social media ads. But honestly? It was also a lot of fun.
The Attack Dog Arrives: Lab Notes
Once I freed Clippy from his box, I was immediately struck by how shiny, light, and cheap the plastic felt.
I don’t hate plastic — remember the Nokia Lumia 920? Its polycarbonate body remains one of my favorite phone designs to this day. It was solid, tough, and lightweight — everything plastic should be. Clippy, however, feels like a Christmas cracker toy. That includes the remote control, which inspires about as much confidence as a party favor.
Clippy’s main body, packed with electronics, is fairly hefty. But his four spindly legs don’t look like they can support much — even though I got the turret-mounted version, supposedly capable of “blasting enemies” with water-absorbing gel pellets (we’ll get to that soon).
Visually, he looks like a stretched-out CCTV camera on legs, with a turret on top. Creepy, in the same way Boston Dynamics dogs are — at least in appearance.
The remote? Hollow, super light, and seemingly modeled after an Xbox controller. I particularly enjoy how all the buttons and triggers are just a single molded piece of plastic. There’s something delightfully useless about it.
In terms of usability, though, it’s a nightmare for anyone with ADHD. A chaotic layout of buttons with seemingly no logic, the designers deserve credit for creating a controller that actively mocks muscle memory.
Getting Clippy to Work (Sort Of)
At first, Clippy wouldn’t even turn on. The power switch didn’t do anything, and the charging light stayed off when plugged into USB-C. There were no instructions.
Opening the battery compartment revealed why — the battery was unplugged. Perhaps to prevent it draining during shipping? Or to avoid spontaneous combustion? Either way, I plugged it in.
Clippy came to life.
And wow — he is loud. His built-in speakers blast noise at full volume. I desperately searched the controller for a volume or mute button. No luck.
Naturally, the first button I pressed was “pee.” Clippy lifted his back leg, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was the cheerful whistle and the sound of water hitting a toilet bowl.
Then I saw the “handstand” button — a perfect test of balance and agility. Surely this requires gyroscopes and accelerometers analyzing real-time sensor data to keep him stable?
I hit the button. Clippy immediately fell flat on his face. Hard.
It was unexpectedly forceful. His back legs twitched in the air, reminding me of how ants communicate with their antennae — some kind of silent plea for mercy. “Don’t judge me, man. What were you expecting?” I could almost hear him say.
Somehow, he got back on his feet and was ready for more. Me? Not so sure.
A Dog of Many Talents
The controller has a lot of buttons — 17 functions in total — but I won’t bore you with each one. Instead, here’s a taste of Clippy’s weirdest tricks:
- Kung Fu: Doesn’t resemble any martial art. Instead, loud Euro-club music plays (think Lost Frequencies pool party vibes) and Clippy “dances.”
- Swim/Dance: Recently watched Usher perform live. These buttons make Clippy leap violently off the ground, in moves even more dramatic than Usher’s. It’s impressive. A note for optimists: Clippy is not waterproof. Don’t try it.
- Push-Ups: He lets out a loud grunt and does push-ups to the guitar riff from Eye of the Tiger. No notes. Pure perfection.
- Storytime: Buckle up. This one plays ear-piercing classical music over a spoken story. The narrator sounds vaguely like Eric Cartman, and the poor speaker quality makes it hard to follow. One tale features an old woman scolding a toothless cat for not catching mice. The cat gives a moral lesson about respecting elders. Another story may have involved an injured pigeon. It’s unclear.
Despite these impressive “skills,” Clippy’s basic navigation leaves much to be desired. Moving forward is fine. Turning left or right is painfully slow, and he often falls over mid-turn. No reverse. No obstacle detection. I have to pick him up every time he bumps into walls.
At least he can shake hands (or simulate a handshake via remote). Just like a well-trained puppy.
There’s an App for That
Yes, there’s an official app! It connects via Bluetooth and, once you manage to switch the language to English, it’s actually easier to use than the remote.
The app even has extra features: you can feed Clippy “foods” like bones or a “nuclear energy source,” each triggering a different animated eating sequence.
There’s a voice command mode, though it doesn’t seem to work — even after granting it full permissions (yes, including access to my files and phone). It ignores all commands.
There’s also a programming mode to set up custom routines, but everything I tried ended with more crashing into walls.
The “Ammunition Report”
According to the product page, Clippy’s rear turret can fire water gel bullets for fun. The image showed glowing blue rounds shooting out of a cannon. I imagined a self-patrolling robo-guard dog, defending our home.
Reality: a tiny packet of 1mm gel balls. You soak them in water for a few hours until they expand, then load them into the turret (no instructions, so good luck figuring that out).
Testing took place in the bathtub. I dropped a few water beads into what I hoped was the right chamber, warned my son to stand back, and hit the attack button.
Clippy stepped forward. Aimed. Then sputtered out two pellets — slowly, like ketchup from a stubborn bottle.
We repeated this ten times. At best, a single gel ball might travel straight-ish. They have zero force — not even enough to break wet toilet paper. We tried.
Eventually, we gave up and went back to watching Clippy fall on his face.
So, Should You Buy It?
Despite the low price? My answer is a pretty clear no.
And yet… it’s hard to be too harsh. Playing with Clippy brought back childhood joy — when silly toys like this were everything.
Clippy, for all his flaws, entertained my son every day for a week. Every morning, he’d bring Clippy to our room, waking me up with some incomprehensible story followed by a power chord guitar solo.
Eventually, Clippy will gather dust in a corner, replaced by the next novelty. Maybe he’ll end up in a thrift store, waiting to confuse and delight another family.
I just hope — wherever he ends up — they enjoy weird cartoons and don’t mind the sound of peeing plastic dogs.