Julie Bowditch
I have made a discovery that I suspect many pet parents already know: having a pet is remarkably good for the economy. And equally bad for our bank accounts.
My 14-pound fur babe has a veterinarian, groomer, trainer, insurance policy, sitters, and a social calendar that occasionally rivals my own. She has preferred treats, roughly 500 balls, and a wardrobe she absolutely did not ask for.
I do not particularly want to calculate what I spend on her health, enrichment, and aesthetic. Unfortunately, for the purposes of this column, I did look up what we are spending collectively.
And…yikes.
Americans spent an estimated $158 billion on our pets in 2025. Billion with a capital B. There are approximately 95 million pet-owning households in the United States, and spending is expected to climb to $165 billion this year. That’s a whole industry built around a particular type of human, those just like me—and probably you, if you’re reading along.
Last month, I wrote about the privilege of pet ownership and how being able to care for a pet requires resources many of us probably take for granted. I ended with this thought: “If we are fortunate enough to spend all this money on our pets, perhaps we should think more intentionally about where those dollars go.”
Before anyone comes for me, this is not an argument that you should cancel your auto-ship order or feel guilty every time a package of dog treats arrives on your doorstep. One of the first things I learned after accidentally joining the pet-parent subculture—as addressed in my first Tails column—is that we have enough judgment to go around. We do not need another excuse to tell each other we are doing it wrong.
This is not about spending more, either. Goodness knows, our pets are doing just fine, even better than us some days! It is about recognizing the economic power hidden inside the dollars we are already spending.
Think about the pet ecosystem in our own community. There are veterinarians and veterinary technicians who keep our animals healthy. Groomers who somehow return them to us looking—and smelling—like entirely different creatures. Trainers who teach our dogs how to behave and, more often, teach us how to communicate with them. There are dog walkers, sitters, day care and boarding providers.
Then there are the businesses that make having a pet more fun: family-owned pet stores, local treat makers, photographers, artists, bars and restaurants with dog-friendly patios, and community events where bringing your four-legged date is not only allowed, but encouraged.
Many of these are small businesses and entrepreneurs. They employ our neighbors. They rent storefronts in our neighborhoods. They work with other local vendors. They sponsor community events, donate gift cards to fundraisers, and support local rescues and animal welfare organizations.
Suddenly, the money we spend spoiling our pets does not seem quite so frivolous. None of this requires perfection. Maybe your pet’s food needs to come from a national retailer because that is where it is affordable, available, or conveniently delivered to your doorstep. Mine sometimes does too.
But maybe the birthday treat comes from a local bakery. Maybe the next leash comes from the neighborhood pet shop instead of an app. Maybe you choose the local groomer instead of the big brand, hire the photographer, attend the adoption fundraiser, or finally stop at that brewery with the dog-friendly patio you keep talking about.
The point is not where every dollar goes. It is remembering that we get to decide where we spend it. There is something especially fitting about that when it comes to our pets. They are inherently local creatures. Their worlds are built around our neighborhoods: the sidewalks they walk, the parks they sniff, the people they recognize, and the businesses where someone inevitably keeps treats behind the counter.
Our pets connect us to our communities in ways we might not otherwise experience. Maybe our spending can do the same. If even a fraction of the billions pet parents are already spending stayed closer to home, imagine the ripple effect—not just for pet businesses, but for the communities those businesses support in turn.
We do not need to spend more on our pets. Trust me, they have enough stuff. Maybe we just need to think a little more about where the money we are already spending goes.
Our pets already make our homes and lives better. With a little intention, our pet budgets can make our communities better, too.