Welcome to the Maze, Sucker!

Yes, the pet health club. Your vet marketed it to you when you were feeling down and your dog looked especially sad in a cone. Do you remember when they said they would provide you “peace of mind” and “affordable preventive care”? Yes, what they meant was, “Congratulations! You’ve just joined the Netflix of vet services.” But there’s no “chill” option—just bills, auto-renewals, and a hotline to call for help.

It’s not the same as canceling Amazon Prime to cancel your pet health club. No, it’s a test of mental endurance at the Olympic level. Imagine Squid Game, but instead of winning money, you’re just battling to stop spending $39.99 a month for “free nail trims” that your cat still tried to kill you over.

Step One: Accepting that you made a mistake

The first step to canceling your pet health club is to look in the mirror and say, “Yes, I gave my vet my bank account information on purpose.”

What made you do it? They might have dangled the word “discount” like bait. Your dog’s sad puppy eyes made you feel guilty.

You were half-asleep after an emergency visit and just signed anything they gave you. You are now caught in a contract that is more sneaky than a subscription to a dating app. You thought this was a clever way to take care of your pet. It’s more like a marriage in Las Vegas: easy to sign but hard to break.

Spoiler: You can’t cancel without filling out paperwork that looks like you’re asking for student loan forgiveness.

Talking to Customer Service, often known as Hell

Here’s the thing: pet health clubs don’t really want you to quit. Isn’t that shocking? You have to call someone—a real person—because no one can get out through an app or website. That would be too easy. Call them and get ready for:

• A 20-minute wait while listening to music from the Sims soundtrack from 2006.
• A cheery person who says you’re squandering away “amazing savings.”

You will feel so guilty that you would as well have told a toddler that Santa isn’t real. And if you think declaring “I don’t want it anymore” will help? So funny. They want to know why.

Having trouble with money? Are you moving to a new state? Your cat went away and joined a gang of bikers? Get ready to prove it three times.

The eventual goal is to get you so emotionally tired that you just say, “Fine, keep charging me until I die.”

Pet health clubs are like gym memberships for taking care of your pets

These clubs are like Planet Fitness for dogs, and they don’t have an exit strategy. They talk about “routine checkups,” “dental cleanings,” and “discounted meds” like they’re doing something very nice. In other words, it’s all the things you would do anyhow, but now you have to pay for them every month.

Want to leave? Think about it again. They’ll hide behind terminology like “contractual minimum term,” just like gyms do.

• “Fee for processing cancellations.”
• “We send you the form, you send it back, and we act like we never got it.”

By the way, why does everything in life depend on you sending or faxing papers in 2025? Even if no one owns printers anymore, your neighborhood vet’s health club still feels like it’s stuck in 1998.

Loopholes, Baby

Okay, this is where things get interesting. You need loopholes if you really want to cancel. Try these:

• Change states. In a literal sense. Tell them you’re moving to a town where they don’t do business anymore. Bonus: You don’t have to move; just threaten.
• Pet got their degree. Your dog is now a full-grown badass who doesn’t need “unlimited puppy exams.”
• No thanks. Claim unemployment, debt, or money problems. Sometimes it works when America kicks us when we’re down.
• Get ignored on purpose. Ask for written proof that they canceled. If they “lose” it, call again because they will.

And what if nothing else works? Stop using your debit card. Extreme? Yes. Is it working? Yes, too. Sorry about your Spotify membership; it’s collateral damage in the fight for freedom.

Is It Worth It? (Spoiler: Sometimes)

The fact is that pet health clubs aren’t necessarily a scam, even when they make you feel bad. If you always forget to schedule basic pet care, vaccinations, or dental cleanings, then maybe this will help you grow up.

But if you’re someone who pays attention (like when you remember to brush your dog’s teeth without feeling bad about it), it’s probably just another bill you don’t need.

The answer is simple: are you paying for frequent trips to the vet or for dealing with guilt? It’s both, thus it’s a trick question.

In the end, you did it! Sort of.

Ending your pet health club is hard, like breaking up with your mobile phone company while your cat watches you go crazy. But it can be done. Bring some food, get your excuses ready, and remember that wanting to be independent doesn’t mean you’re a “bad pet owner.”

But you can be poor, fatigued, and wondering why you made all the choices that led you here.

And what if you still don’t make it after all this? Well, congratulations—you’ve completely locked in, boo. You can get your nails trimmed for free and get 10% off heartworm medicine for the rest of your life.

But what is adulthood if not a lot of regrets regarding subscriptions? Hulu. The gym. Vitamins for dogs. You can’t leave this club without giving up your firstborn.

You might as well enjoy the chaos and brag that you’re in the special VIP group for those who accidentally make their vet their landlord.

So grab yourself a bottle (or three) of wine, give your furry friend a treat, and accept your fate: your Netflix password will survive longer than your relationship, your pet will last longer than your budget, and your pet health club will last longer than both.