There was a time—not that long ago—when the loudest opinions about pet nutrition came from veterinarians, animal nutritionists, and that one guy at the dog park who swore his Labrador lived to be 27 on hot dogs and table scraps. Those were simpler times.

Now? Now I can’t scroll social media, stand in the pet food aisle, or watch a late-night talk show without being educated on my dog’s digestive system by a celebrity who once starred in a teen sitcom, a pop singer who hasn’t released an album since the Obama administration, or an influencer whose primary qualification appears to be owning a French bulldog with its own Instagram account.

Apparently, the moment a celebrity adopts a rescue puppy, Hollywood mails them a certificate that reads, “Congratulations! You Are Now a Pet Nutrition Expert.”

These celebrity experts speak with great authority. They don’t just feed their pets—they craft their meals. Their dogs eat wild-caught salmon flown in from an emotionally supportive stream in Alaska, paired with quinoa that has been gently whispered to before cooking. Their cats enjoy grain-free, gluten-free, guilt-free meals prepared by a personal chef.

Meanwhile, I’m standing in the pet store holding two bags of kibble, trying to remember which one didn’t make my dog’s stomach sound like a washing machine full of bricks.

The celebrity advice comes fast and fierce:
• “Dogs were never meant to eat carbs.”
• “Cats need raw diets only.”
• “If you don’t rotate proteins every seven minutes, you’re basically a monster.”

And heaven help you if you admit—out loud—that your dog eats the same food every day and seems… fine. That’s when the celebrity nutritionist in my head says, “Trust me. Not only have I starred in made-for-TV-only movies, but I’ve also done extensive research.”

Ah yes. Research. Because nothing screams “science” like a TikTok filmed in a luxury kitchen where the dog’s food costs more per ounce than my first apartment.

Let’s be honest: if half these celebrities truly believed their own advice, their pets would never sneak socks, lick the floor, or eat something unidentifiable they found in the yard. Yet here we are, with dogs who will happily consume cat litter, mulch, and a mysterious object they wolfed down before you could say, “Drop it.”

My personal favorite is when a celebrity announces they’ve “cracked the code” on pet nutrition. The “code.” As if generations of veterinarians and researchers had somehow missed the obvious, and it took a former reality TV contestant to finally solve it.

Here’s what I, THE VETERINARIAN, know about pet nutrition:

1. Pets will beg for whatever you’re eating, regardless of its nutritional value.

2. They will reject the expensive food you bought with confidence and devour the cheap stuff you grabbed in desperation.

3. If your pet is healthy, happy, and not actively plotting your demise, you’re probably doing okay.

4. Unless your VETERINARIAN recommends a different diet for your pet due to a medical condition, don’t waste money on boutique diets formulated by a famous person who probably paid someone else to formulate a diet to which they could attach their famous name.

So, while celebrities continue to launch pet food brands, supplements, and miracle powders made from ingredients harvested under a full moon, I will continue to ignore the advice of people who are getting richer by hawking their expensive, designer pet foods.

When it comes down to it, my pets don’t need a celebrity nutritionist. They just need dinner. And preferably before 6:01 p.m., or I will be reported to the authorities.

I wonder if I should start offering acting advice.