Your Pet Is Itchy, Weird, And Acting Suspicious—handle It Online Minus The Trauma (yours And Theirs)

This is sponsored content. It was created for our partner, Dutch.com.

Your dog treats car rides like a crime scene. Your cat goes full exorcist the second the carrier appears. And somehow, a “quick” vet visit still turns into a $300 bill. There’s a very specific kind of dread that sets in when your pet is acting slightly off. Not dying. Not urgent. Just… off enough that you know you should probably do something about it. But doing something about it means booking an appointment, rearranging your day, wrestling a sentient loaf of fur into a carrier, and then paying a bill that feels personally insulting.

So instead, you seek medical advice from ChatGPT. You spiral. You convince yourself your pet has something rare and medieval. 

Or, you can skip all of that and use Dutch.com, which is essentially a licensed veterinarian living inside an app.

Use code VICE32 for 32% off to bring down the membership fee to about $8 per month. Which, when you remember that a basic vet visit can easily run $200, starts to feel less like a subscription and more like a financial life hack.

The Case of Roosevelt’s Perpetually Gross Eye

Enter: Roosevelt, my cat, my problem child, my tiny, adorable medical mystery. 

For as long as I can remember, Roosevelt has had this gunky eye situation. Not dramatic. Not painful. Just… there. A little crust, a little discharge, enough to make me go, “Should I be doing something about this?” every time I look at her face.

But was it worth an in-person vet visit? Absolutely not. Was I going to ignore it forever? Also no. This is exactly the kind of in-between problem that makes pet ownership weirdly stressful.

So I tried Dutch.com for this story, hoping for a solve.

Signing up only took a couple of minutes, and almost immediately, I could book an appointment. I scrolled through available times expecting slim pickings and instead saw options as soon as the next day. I picked one, closed my laptop, and felt like I had accomplished something wildly efficient.

The next day, I logged into Zoom (yes, it’s a Zoom call—but you can do it straight from your browser, no downloads, no drama), and the vet popped on right on time. No waiting room. No other pets screaming in the background. No fluorescent lighting making everyone feel vaguely unwell.

We started with the basics: Roosevelt’s age, personality, how long I’ve had her, the usual “tell me about your cat” questions. Then we got into it: the eye. The gunk. The mystery.

I also casually mentioned that she sometimes barfs after eating too fast, which is less of a medical emergency and more of a lifestyle choice (she eats like someone’s about to steal her food, because, in fairness, our older male cat absolutely would).

The vet listened, asked smart follow-ups, and then said the thing every virtual pet appointment eventually requires. “Can I see her?”

The Most Chaotic Zoom Call

This is where things got athletic. Roosevelt, of course, was not sitting politely nearby waiting for her close-up. She was somewhere in my house, living her life. So I grabbed my laptop and went hunting, walking from room to room like a deranged FaceTime call.

I found her asleep, naturally. I woke her up (rude), picked her up (ruder), and brought her to the screen.

Now imagine a cat—confused, mildly offended, recently woken from a nap—being rotated in front of a laptop camera while a stranger looks at her face. That was Roosevelt’s first Zoom.

The vet asked me to turn her slightly, get closer to her eye, adjust the angle. Then came the real challenge: “Can you gently lift her cheek so I can see her teeth?” Ummm kay. Roosevelt immediately chose chaos. She flailed. She twisted. She entered what I can only describe as “tiny demon mode.” But I managed it. I held her, lifted her cheek, angled her toward the screen like I was presenting a very unwilling contestant on a cat pageant livestream.

And still, this was easier than getting her into a carrier and driving to a clinic. That would cost a lot of lost fur, some scratch wounds on me, and trauma. 

The Diagnosis (a.k.a. It Wasn’t That Deep)

After the exam, the vet gave me the verdict. It is a blocked tear duct. Not dangerous. Not painful. Just annoying and something that could get worse if ignored. (Think: infection!) 

The vet walked me through exactly what to do, in plain English. Clean it gently. Use a saline solution. If needed, try an antibacterial treatment. Watch for changes. Don’t panic.

No scare tactics. No upsell energy. Just helpful.

She also told me she’d send everything through the Dutch.com portal, so I wouldn’t have to rely on my memory (which, after wrestling a cat mid-Zoom, was already compromised). Later that day, I checked, and there it all was. Notes, recommendations, next steps. Clean. Clear. Easy to follow. I left that appointment feeling something I don’t usually associate with vet visits: relief… Relief that I have a simple solution, but not a hefty vet bill like previous visits over. 

What Dutch.com Is (and Who It’s Actually For)

Dutch.com isn’t trying to replace emergency vets. If your pet is in real distress (like it can’t breathe, is seriously injured, ate something truly dangerous), you go in person. Full stop.

But for everything else, like the weird, the mild, the “is this normal?” moments, this is where Dutch.com shines. 

It’s built specifically for dogs and cats (so no, not your hamster, not your bird, not your emotional support gecko). And it covers a surprising range of issues, including but not limited to: 

• Skin conditions
• Allergies
• Digestive quirks
• Diet and nutrition
• Eye and ear health
• Anxiety
• Fleas and ticks
• Tooth health
• Parasites and worms 
• Minor infections

… basically the stuff that makes you pause but not panic. The vet I spoke with mentioned that most of her calls center around pet parents who need flea and tick meds, or simply have questions on pet nutrition and diets. 

With Dutch.com, you get access to licensed veterinarians, the ability to message and follow up, and prescriptions for a wide range of conditions with medications shipped directly to your door. And you can do it on your schedule. Nights. Weekends. That weird window after bedtime when you finally have a second to think.

The Math That Makes This Make Sense

Let’s go back to that $300 vet visit you’re all too familiar with.  For me, that’s the real sticking point. It’s awful to decide whether a pet deserves care if you’re on a budget, you know? It’s not fun going over whether every single concern warrants a $200 to $300 outing. Dutch.com can prevent that crippling pet-parent shame at bay. This pet telehealth service flips that equation.

For about $8 per month with code VICE32 (or around $11/month without it), you get ongoing access. Not one visit. Not one opinion. Unlimited access. Plus, if you have multiple pets, up to five can all get on the same plan. (If you have more than five animals in your care, bless.)

So instead of hesitating, second-guessing, or spiraling on ChatGPT with your pet’s random ailments, you just ask a vet at your disposal. Dutch.com lowers the barrier to being a better pet parent and saves you money.

MY FINAL WORD ON DUTCH.COM

There are moments when nothing replaces an in-person vet. Emergencies are emergencies. But a huge percentage of pet ownership lives in that gray area of questions, quirks, minor issues, things that don’t feel urgent enough to justify the cost and chaos of a traditional visit. That’s where Dutch.com lands. It’s not just about convenience (though yes, not wrestling your cat into a carrier is a gift). It’s about access and affordability. When a simple vet visit can run $200 to $300, having a trusted expert available for about $8 a month changes how you make decisions.

Suddenly, you’ll stop putting things off. You’ll stop guessing. You’ll just take care of it once and for all.

Roosevelt still hates being picked up. That hasn’t changed. But her eye? We’re finally doing something about it, and I didn’t have to leave my house to make that happen or put another cat expense on my credit card. 

Now if only there was a Dutch.com for humans…

The post Your Pet Is Itchy, Weird, and Acting Suspicious—Handle It Online Minus the Trauma (Yours and Theirs) appeared first on VICE.