The Pet Rock: A Tale of the Ultimate Hard Sell

You've probably come across the tale of the Pet Rock, the simple Mexican beach stone that could be bought in bulk for mere pennies, then sold for $3.95, making Gary Dahl a millionaire during the novelty gift craze of late 1975. However, Dahl’s wealth didn’t come from the rock itself.

No, Dahl made his fortune from a cardboard box.

That year, Dahl, a freelance ad copywriter in California, was chatting with friends over drinks when the topic shifted to the burdens of owning pets. Dogs and cats destroyed furniture, and worst of all, they demanded constant care—walking, feeding, and cleaning up after them. That’s when Dahl quipped that he never had to worry about such problems because he owned a ‘pet rock.’

It started as a joke, one that got a good laugh. But Gary Dahl thought there might be more to it. He went home and began writing a humorous owner's manual for this imaginary pet rock, outlining how to care for it, tricks it could perform (the classic ‘play dead’ being the most famous), and emphasizing its ‘long life span’ as a loyal companion. The humor wasn’t just in the rock itself, but in how it was marketed. Along with the manual, Dahl designed a cardboard box with air holes, similar to the ones pet shops use, which also bore a striking resemblance to a McDonald's Happy Meal box.

Dahl’s decision to pursue his pet rock idea seriously was largely driven by his tough financial situation—he was struggling to make ends meet. He reached out to colleagues George Coakley and John Heagerty to become investors. Coakley put in $10,000, a considerable amount for 1975, especially for a product made of essentially worthless rocks.

Dahl, however, understood the market. Like other fleeting fads such as chattering teeth and the Hula Hoop, the Pet Rock found its success in perfect timing. Vietnam had ended, but Watergate’s shadow still loomed; the country was in a slightly grim mood. Dahl believed people would appreciate the absurdity of the Pet Rock and laugh at its ridiculousness. He packaged the rocks with the manual and protected them in excelsior, which, while synonymous with comic book legend Stan Lee’s catchphrase, also refers to softwood shavings used for protecting fragile items. The rocks were sourced from a local sand and gravel company, which imported them from Mexico’s Rosarita Beach. Dahl introduced the rock at a gift show in San Francisco in August 1975, and then waited for the reaction.

The response came quickly. People immediately understood the appeal, and orders started pouring in. Neiman Marcus requested 1,000 rocks. Bloomingdale’s followed suit. Newsweek ran a story with a picture, amplifying the buzz. Dahl, once just a guy telling a bar joke, now had retail and media credibility for what seemed like a frivolous product. His little gag had turned into a national sensation.

By the time the holiday season hit, Dahl was reportedly selling as many as 100,000 Pet Rocks a day. In the end, he sold between 1.3 and 1.5 million rocks in just a few months. Coakley made $200,000 from his $10,000 investment, and Dahl showed his appreciation by gifting both Coakley and Heagerty with Mercedes. With a profit of 95 cents on each Pet Rock, Dahl raked in over $1 million. He also launched his own company, Rock Bottom Productions, which was as much a joke as the Pet Rock itself. When you called, the receptionist would answer, ‘You’ve reached Rock Bottom.’

The Pet Rock’s popularity was fleeting—after all, that’s the nature of fads—but Dahl had no regrets. His two investors, however, weren’t as pleased. They argued that their share of the profits was too small and took Dahl to court. The judgment was in their favor, and Dahl ended up writing them a check for a six-figure sum.

There were efforts to keep the Pet Rock alive, including a Bicentennial edition in 1976, featuring the American flag painted on it, and mail-order college degrees for the rocks. Dahl even sold Pet Rock T-shirts and Pet Rock shampoo. But with the rock being un-patentable (though Dahl might have been able to patent its specific purpose as a companion, he chose not to), copycat products soon emerged. The novelty wore off quickly, and the public moved on.

Dahl’s entrepreneurial spirit didn’t stop with the Pet Rock. He also launched the Official Sand Breeding Kit, which promised to teach people how to grow sand, and Canned Earthquake, a coffee can with a wind-up mechanism that made it jump around on a table. Neither venture found much success. However, Dahl’s true passion was in the bar business. He bought and renovated a bar in Los Gatos, which he named Carrie Nation’s Saloon.

This didn’t come without its share of headaches. Aspiring inventors, convinced they had the next Pet Rock, would often show up at Dahl’s bar, hoping to get a moment with him for advice. Most of their ideas were, at best, bizarre—like packaging bull or elephant dung. There were also suggestions to market a ‘pet stick.’ Dahl had little patience for these would-be entrepreneurs, firmly believing that the Pet Rock was truly one-of-a-kind. Eventually, he returned to the world of advertising after what he called an ‘eight-year vacation’ following the Pet Rock’s success.

While the Pet Rock is no longer under Dahl’s control, it can still be found online. Dahl passed away in 2015. As for the unsold rocks left over after the fad faded, Dahl didn’t mind one bit. If they didn’t sell, he casually remarked, he’d just use them to repave his driveway.