Pet Tech's Next Frontier: From Panic Apps to Lifelong Care Infrastructure

On a continent where the family dog is often treated like a fourth child, the pet economy has quietly become one of South America's most intriguing investment stories. But for all the apps promising to track, feed, and pamper our animals, Ayaz Ahmadov, founder and CEO of Dosty, sees a fundamental flaw in the industry's logic. Too many platforms, he argues, are built for the emergency—the sudden illness, the lost pet, the frantic 2 a.m. call to a vet—rather than for the quiet, unglamorous years of daily care that come before and after. That, he says, is where the real value lies.

The numbers suggest he's onto something. Pet tech is projected to generate US$188 billion by 2027, a figure that has turned this once-niche corner of the startup world into a magnet for serious capital. The growth is fueled by the "humanization" trend—owners who treat their pets as family members are willing to spend on everything from premium food to mental health apps for their animals. But as Ahmadov told Contxto, building a unicorn here isn't about launching another cute app. It's about solving infrastructure problems, navigating ethical boundaries, and designing a strategy that can scale across borders without collapsing under its own weight.

Ahmadov's central critique is that the industry optimizes for "moments of panic," creating platforms that shine during a crisis but offer little value during the years of routine. Dosty's answer is what he calls "continuous care infrastructure." Instead of a tool you open only when something goes wrong, the product follows the pet through every stage of life, across different providers and even across geographic locations. Every interaction—feeding habits, behavioral shifts, vet visits—is anchored to a persistent pet identity, so the system learns and adapts even when everything is calm. This means rethinking the metrics that define success. "We're not competing with TikTok," Ahmadov says. "We're competing with uncertainty." In pet health, a user who opens the app, solves a problem in two minutes, and leaves is a win—not a failure of engagement.

This philosophy extends to community building, which Dosty redesigned after realizing that pet owners want shared experiences to validate their questions. The key is grounding discussions in real-world context—breed, age, symptoms—rather than generic scrolling. The moment one user brings peace of mind to another is worth more than hours of passive consumption. But a product vision alone won't attract major funds, which is why Rachel Sheppard, Ventures Director at Leap Venture Studio, has a blunt warning for founders from Latin America and South Asia: "Don't obsess over the U.S. market from day one." She sees too many startups launching into massive markets because they look like the biggest prize, only to discover that big markets are also expensive markets. The monthly burn rate can sink a young company before it ever finds its footing. Her advice is to master the local market first—refine the channel strategy, understand consumer behavior, and sense the economic mood of your own community before chasing global scale.

For South American founders, this is particularly resonant. The region has a deep pet culture, but it also has fragmented infrastructure, varying regulatory environments, and economic cycles that swing between optimism and austerity. A startup that builds trust locally—through vaccination histories, vet appointment tracking, and data that actually belongs to the pet owner—can create the kind of loyalty that global investors look for. Ahmadov is also wary of the AI gold rush. While many founders use artificial intelligence to simulate medical authority and offer diagnoses, he warns that this erodes trust in the long run. Regulation, he argues, is a necessary design constraint. At Dosty, AI organizes symptoms, suggests next steps, and clearly indicates its uncertainty. By staying within its lane, the platform becomes a preclinical ally to veterinarians rather than a competitive threat. Data portability is part of this ethical stance: if platforms block data export to retain customers, they aren't building loyalty—they're engineering dependency.

The broader signal for South America is that pet tech is no longer a side bet. It's a sector where patient, infrastructure-first thinking can outpace flashy consumer apps. As the region's middle class grows and pet ownership becomes even more entrenched, the opportunity is not just to build a successful company, but to define what responsible, continuous care looks like for an entire generation of animals. The founders who get that right—who understand that trust beats attention, and that local mastery beats premature expansion—will be the ones who turn this booming market into lasting value. For now, the race is on, and the smart money is watching to see who builds the foundation rather than just the panic button.