Forbes’ own product gurus are back on the air telling you that a sleek dog camera should be a “non-negotiable” for modern pet parents, and sure enough their managing editor is front and center pitching the conveniences of high-tech pet surveillance. That’s fine for readers who have the spare cash to chase every gadget the elites recommend, but hardworking Americans deserve a clearer accounting of costs and compromises before they buy into yet another subscription-driven device.
On paper the Furbo 360 sells exactly what most busy families want: rotating 360-degree coverage, treat-tossing entertainment and real-time alerts that promise to catch separation anxiety or barking before neighbors complain. Those features are real and genuinely useful for monitoring an elderly dog or catching mischief while you’re at work, and companies like Furbo have leaned hard into selling the peace-of-mind narrative.
But let’s be blunt: technology that keeps your dog safe can also keep you hooked. A camera that you can’t fully use without a cloud service or app is a product designed to keep billing you, not to set you free. Responsible pet ownership includes weighing convenience against recurring costs and the creeping normalization of constant monitoring inside our own homes.
Consumers should also remember that these shiny upgrades come with a shelf life set by the manufacturer. Furbo publicly announced an end-of-life for older units sold before 2017 that would render those cameras and their apps unusable as of September 4, 2024 — a reminder that hardware can be deliberately orphaned to push customers into buying new gear. That kind of planned obsolescence is exactly the sort of corporate behavior that should make Americans wary, not ecstatic.
Worse, the real sticker price often isn’t the one printed on the box. Furbo’s premium features are bundled into subscription plans that the company has been restructuring, meaning owners quickly find themselves paying monthly to keep AI alerts, cloud clips and multi-camera setups working. For families on tight budgets, that recurring charge turns a useful tool into another line item to debate at the kitchen table.
Security and privacy sell with the product, but they deserve close inspection. Furbo’s parent company publishes a product security statement and a vulnerability disclosure policy promising fixes and responsible disclosure, yet transparency is only as good as follow-through — and pet owners should not assume a corporate promise replaces independent oversight. Keep in mind that any device with a camera and a cloud backend is a risk vector that belongs to the buyer to manage.
Don’t take the marketing brochure as gospel: users on forums and community threads report flaky app behavior, disconnections and UI problems that turn a “peace of mind” purchase into daily frustration for people who depend on the camera to check on a sick or anxious pet. Those real-world reports matter more than glossy influencer clips because they show how the device performs for ordinary Americans who don’t have a backup plan when tech fails.
If you own a pet and you’re tempted by the Furbo pitch, act like the responsible steward you are: read the fine print, compare alternatives, and budget for subscriptions or forced upgrades. Demand accountability from companies that sell convenience as a service, and insist that our consumer marketplace reward durability, transparency and fairness — not planned obsolescence and recurring fees dressed up as innovation.

