So You’re Looking for Classes on How to Feed Animals

Adorable. It’s clear that your dog needs a professionally trained chow consultant because he just ate a sock. You can’t even remember the last time you ate a vegetable, but let’s make sure Rufus gets all the vitamins he needs. The most significant things.

It’s remarkable that these seminars exist, people are paying for them, and some of you will definitely act like it’s a long-held fantasy. The truth is that you spent too much time on TikTok and got sucked into a world of influencers who sell costly chow. You are now ready to learn how to say, “Actually, that kibble has too many fillers.” You did it! You discovered your new place in the wild world of taking care of pets.

Step One: Realize That You Are That Person Now

If you’re using Google to find pet nutrition lessons, you’ve already crossed the Rubicon. You are now a full-fledged pet parent who wants their dog to eat quinoa while you eat nachos in a panic at 11:30 p.m.

To be honest, this isn’t for the dog. This is for you. Dogs don’t care about amino acid charts. Cats don’t care about ratios at all. You could offer them a Cheeto and they’d come back for more. This is about you finding value in the one thing you can still control: your Schnauzer’s breakfast.

And you know what? That’s fair. Life is chaotic. Gas is expensive, your company won’t let you work four days a week, and paying rent feels like stealing. If restricting Biscuit’s portion size helps you deal with problems, welcome to the group.

The club’s motto is, “My dog eats better than I do, and no, I’m not ashamed (yet).”

What These Classes Really Teach You (Hint: More Than High School Ever Did)

Here’s the deal: pet nutrition lessons will teach you things you didn’t even know you needed to know. For example:

• The difference between pea protein and chicken protein (yes, it does matter).
• The unclear world of “filler ingredients,” which are also called junk food for pets.
• In supplement hell, there are probiotics, fish oil, and weird powders that cost $40 a tub.
• Portion control (for dogs, not for you, of course).
• Why your dog smells their butt and if it’s due of what they eat. (partially joking, partially not.)
• A brave look at the truth: You will know more about dog vitamins than you do about what a “complex carb” is for yourself.

It will hurt the first time you say, “Oh yeah, my husky eats balanced macros for digestion” while holding two pieces of cold pizza and a Red Bull.

You Did It Because TikTok Told You To

You want to act like you’re a good person. You promised to make a difference by improving pet care, helping dogs thrive, and so on.

What is real? You saw a TikTok video on your For You Page. It was a picture of a fashionable pet nutritionist with lovely eyebrows offering her doodle a well-chosen meal of lean beef, pumpkin puree, and blueberries. You said, “I want that life.”

Now you are here:

• Signing up for weekend workshops.
• Fighting on Discord servers about not getting enough calcium.
• Writing down notes like you’re truly going back to school.

Here’s a hot take: Pet nutrition classes are like crossfit for those who keep pets. Once you’re in, you can’t stop talking. And no one asked.

Your group talk has over. Your coworkers don’t care. Your Starbucks barista doesn’t care at all. But you’ll still talk about it.

The Cost of Enlightenment (Also Known As: Say Goodbye to Your Money)

Try to guess which costs more: the new 6-week feeding program for your dog or your student loans. Spoiler: it’s quite close.

You may spend anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars on courses if you really want to learn about pet nutrition. Yes, of course you will. What does $995 mean compared to Mr. Flufferton’s shiny coat?

You will also create justifications for it, because why not?

• “It’s a way for them to get better!” (and my desire to know everything about kibble during book club, which is also a big problem.)
• “Cheaper than the vet bills later!” You say this to yourself every year when you don’t brush your teeth.
• “It could be a job!” It won’t, unless you’re willing to dress up as Dr. Oz for dogs from head to toe.

At some point, you’ll swipe your debit card at the register and pray the person behind you doesn’t see you crying through the chip reader.

The Side Effects: A Bad Mood Loading…

No one informs you about this portion. You can’t stop talking about pet nutrition classes after you take them.

• A buddy feeds their dog a Beggin’ Strip? You flinch in real life.
• Your mom says “table scraps”? You write a long article about diabetes in dogs.
• Someone makes a joke about their cat drinking milk? You go DEFCON 1 on cats that can’t take lactose.

And just like that, you are now “that person” at parties. People don’t talk about their dogs around you because they don’t want to hear you do a TED Talk about taurine.

But at least Rufus isn’t swollen anymore. Small wins.

To Sum Up

So, you’re still looking at classes on how to feed your pets. You either really want to sign up or you really don’t want to do your laundry right now. But you did learn one thing: these seminars are less about “helping pets thrive” and more about filling the void created by capitalism, burnout, and your need to feel smarter than everyone else in your friend group.

After you have your certificate, have your pet listen to a 30-minute TED Talk about how thick kibble is. They don’t care, but you will.