Nature Knows. You Don't, I Don't, and Neither Do They.

 

“The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge.” — Stephen Hawking

I don’t know everything. Hell, I don’t even know most things.

And that’s the advantage.

Because the moment you admit you don’t know, you free yourself from the illusion that anyone else does. That your veterinarian does. That the scientists engineering “nutritionally complete” kibbles in a lab do. That breeders do.

Breeders. Now there’s a group people love to put on a pedestal.

“The breeder said I should feed [insert commercial pet food here].”

“The breeder told me raw food will give my puppy diarrhea.”

“The breeder recommended this kibble because it’s what they feed all their dogs.”

Your breeder doesn’t know shit about nutrition.

Listen, I am sure some of them have good intentions, but let’s be real — breeders are in it for the money.

Not all, but most.

And when you make money off a system, you protect that system. You don’t question it.

So when a breeder tells you to feed a specific brand, it’s not because they have deeply studied ancestral nutrition. It’s because they are either getting a cut or because they have always done it that way. And doing something for a long time doesn’t make it right.


It just makes it familiar.

Let me say that louder for the people in the back — breeders are not nutritionists. Most of them are barely even ethical. They’re in it for the money. And money doesn’t reward truth; it rewards compliance.

So when a breeder tells you that you should feed a specific brand of kibble, ask yourself, “Are they saying that because they understand the biological and evolutionary needs of your dog?”

Or are they saying that because they get a kickback?

I’ll save you some time. It’s the second one.

The Myth of the Modern-Day Expert

“The moment you have to add vitamins back into a food, you’ve already admitted that you destroyed the real ones.”

You know who never overcomplicated feeding? Wolves. Feral cats. Every wild predator that has ever lived.

They don’t need a degree. They don’t need a feeding chart. They eat what they are designed to eat, and nature takes care of the rest.

But humans? We can’t help ourselves.

We turn everything into a system. We analyze, dissect, and optimize until we are left with something so far removed from its natural state that we have to fortify it with synthetic vitamins just to make it resemble food again.

Pet food companies call it progress.

I call it lunacy.

Because the moment you have to add vitamins back into a food, you’ve already admitted that you destroyed the real ones.

Vets Aren’t Nutritionists Either

Let’s make something clear. Vets don’t study nutrition. They study disease.

They spend less than a week on nutrition in vet school. And guess who teaches that curriculum? Pet food companies.

I’ll say that again.

The people making the food are the ones teaching the vets what’s in it.

That’s like letting Coca-Cola write the health guidelines for hydration.

But we don’t question it.

Because questioning means admitting that we have been doing it wrong.

And nobody likes to be wrong.

You Don’t Need to Know Everything.

“We (humans) are the only animals foolish enough to poison ourselves — and call it science.”

The most honest thing I can tell you is this.

I don’t know everything.

I never will.

But neither will the people telling you that they do.

The difference is, I’m not trying to outthink nature. I trust it. I recognize that my knowledge — your knowledge, all human knowledge — is a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of what nature has already figured out.

And yet we still have the arrogance to believe we can do it better.

I have news for you.

We can’t.

And we never will.

But we can stop making it worse.

We can stop overcomplicating something that has always been simple. We can stop feeding our pets food that would never exist in nature. We can stop listening to the people who profit from keeping us dependent on their products.

Or we can keep pretending that we are the smartest species on Earth.

While our dogs and cats get sicker.

While pet food companies get richer.

While nature stands back and watches, waiting for us to realize that we are the only animals foolish enough to poison ourselves — and call it science.

I’ll Be the Scapegoat. Call Me an Idiot. I Don’t Mind.

“Man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.” — Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

You want to call me ignorant? Go for it.

You want to tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about? That I don’t have the credentials to be speaking on pet nutrition? Fine.

Because you’re right.

I don’t know anything.

But nature does.

And I trust nature a hell of a lot more than I trust any pet food scientist, any vet trained in industry-funded nutrition courses, or any breeder telling me that a bag of kibble is what’s “best” for my dog.

I know nothing.

But I do know enough to get the hell out of the way!

Nature Knows. Always Has. Always Will.

So what happens now?

You can keep believing in the system. You can keep feeding synthetic-laden, heat-extruded, industry-approved nonsense because an “expert” told you to.

Or you can remember who the real expert is.

Not me. Not a vet. Not a breeder.

Nature.

It has been here longer than us. It has adapted, adjusted, and refined itself over billions of years.

And the smartest thing we can do?

Shut up. Pay attention. And get out of its way.

You made it to the bottom — look at you, overachiever. I’m the human behind Pure Pawsitivity™, where we help pet guardians cut through the noise and make smarter choices about pet health, nutrition, and why your dog insists on eating socks. Disclaimer: I’m not a vet, a PhD, or some mystical pet whisperer (though my cat would argue otherwise). I’m just a guy who loves pets, nutrition, and questioning everything the pet food industry doesn’t want you to think about. This article is for education, empowerment, and entertainment purposes only. Take what serves you, ignore what doesn’t, and always do your own research. Also, your dog told me to tell you they love you. (Yes, even after the bath.)