Welcome to the Crazy World of Pet Food and Treats

Where your four-legged friend is eating a carefully planned Whole30 diet plan while you devour Doritos at midnight.

Once, “feeding the dog” just meant taking some food out of a big bag of brown crunchies and calling it a day. What now? You have biscuit bars that are made by hand, baked slowly, and have turkey in them. They are “fortified with omega-3s for coat sheen.”

Your dog doesn’t care. He just wants to gnaw on something before he cries to go outside again. But the pet care industry has us stuck in a loop of expensive kibble and fancy treats that are sold like skincare products. And let’s be honest: you fell for it. We all have. Pets are doing well. We don’t have any money.

The Store for Groceries Is Now Theirs

Trader Joe’s pet food aisles aren’t just aisles anymore; they’re whole ecosystems.

Kibble “infused with probiotics” for the dog’s intestinal health, since IBS in dogs is evidently the new thing.

Wet food in cans that look like craft beer cans, with cool typefaces.

Snacks made from dried pumpkin. Yes, pumpkin. Because Fido needs “fall vibes” too.

You walked down this aisle and thought, “Huh, why does this sound better for me than what I eat?” Spoiler: It is. After your trip to Taco Bell last night, your dog’s microbiome might be doing better than your own right now.

Hot take: Pet food companies have basically turned into Whole Foods for pets. That makes sense; Americans can hardly afford health care, so Fluffy gets the $50 bag of organic salmon food.

The Scam, But Make It Cute: Treats Edition

Food is what keeps you alive, and sweets are what you enjoy. That means, of course, that they are now the most chaotic money pit of all.

“Jerky sticks with just one ingredient.” In other words, dry chicken that you could have cooked in an air fryer.

$15 packages of “Blueberry dental chews” that your dog can eat in two bites. Cat treats that are “crunchy on the outside, creamy on the inside,” like they’re gourmet truffles.

For pets, treats are like drugs. And the business knows you’ll keep buying them because of one simple thing: training. You can pay your dog $30 a week to not be a terrorist at the dog park.

And don’t even act like your dog needs goodies that taste like filet mignon. He was simply outside eating grass till he threw up on your carpet.

By the way, why do goodies cost more than Oreos? Oreos make me happy, at least.

Emotional Blackmail, Now With a Crunch

You don’t buy your pet food and treats just because they like them. You buy them because these corporations utilize guilt to promote their products, just like Girl Scouts do with cookies.

“Helps keep joints healthy.” Thanks, now I have to do it so my dog doesn’t become old like Benjamin Button.

“Improves skin and coat.” That’s cool. What if I don’t buy this? It’s my fault that my dog has dandruff.

No fillers, soy, corn, or melancholy. That’s great. So, cheap things are poison.

And here you are, neglecting your own vitamins, sipping dodgy office Keurigs, and spending $25 a week on your cat’s lustrous fur.

Let’s face it: treats aren’t even for them anymore. They are for your peace of mind. Pets don’t care. You’re merely paying for love and “good boy” praise with bribes.

Pets on TikTok Eat Better Than We Do

When you scroll through TikTok, you’ll see dogs enjoying meals that appear like they came from a Michelin-starred restaurant. Coconut oil drizzled over salmon, sweet potatoes, and greens.

After that, you look at your “meal prep.” You forgot about half an avocado in a Tupperware three days ago, and now it’s brown.

If you watch pet care videos on TikTok, you’ll feel so bad about yourself that you’ll start to wonder if you should season your dog’s chicken breast with Himalayan pink salt, just in case.

Buddy would also be happy with an old Cheeto. This is like performance parenting, except for animals. And yeah, we all fell for it.

The Stark Truth: You Are the Treat

It’s funny and sad that your pet doesn’t care. What about dogs? They’ll always be loyal, no matter how much junk you throw at them.

What about cats? Ungrateful, no matter how fancy the salmon pate is.

But you? You will keep swiping your card for expensive foods because the cycle of guilt and love is greater than your need for caffeine.

In a way, “pet care” is the best subscription model because you keep putting money into a bottomless pit and get a tail wag and a snuggle every now and then.

And to be honest? That’s worth more than a Michelin star, anyway.

In Conclusion

Good job! You just read 1,400 words about fancy chow and expensive snacks. Your pet still doesn’t care. They are either outdoors licking asphalt or ignoring the $20 snack you got them yesterday.

But don’t worry, champ. At least one of you is doing well, even though your finances are shaky and their stomachs are strong.

Now, go get those “limited edition pumpkin spice dog biscuits” you wanted. Or don’t. No matter what, they will still love you less than your couch.

And let’s be honest: you’ll keep purchasing them anyhow, because what’s one more bag of bacon-flavored dental chews when you can’t afford genuine bacon for yourself?

You have a lot of old LaCroix and takeout in your fridge, but fine, let’s load up on freeze-dried duck liver for the fur overlord.

So here’s the ceremonial pat on the back: you are now the unpaid personal chef, butler, and Whole Foods delivery guy for a creature who doesn’t even know your birthday.

They’ll still bark at the UPS guy like he’s Voldemort and throw up on your shoes just for fun. But you did choose the organic jerky strips, so you’re doing a great job taking care of your pet.

Take that victory. Put it in a frame. That night, you sleep badly as your dog snores in comfort that cost more than your dining table.