It tells you when it’s guessing

Point the camera, tap the paw, and Dogoos captures five seconds of your dog. Face, body posture and vocal tone go to today’s most advanced multimodal AI together, and back comes one of six moods, a confidence number, three or four cues it actually spotted, and a keepsake still. One read a day is free, forever.

It is not a bark translator. Your dog is not saying words, and a read never pretends otherwise — the playful line on the card is written as an interpretation of body language, and the model is forbidden from framing it as literal speech. The appeasing mood carries the same correction in the instructions: dogs don’t feel guilt the way we do, so that look gets described as what it really is.

A read tells you about one minute. The rest of the app is what happens next: a health journal that builds a vet summary on the phone itself — 90 days of notes, 30 days of mood — an album of the keepsake stills, a monthly Story on Whisperer plans once a finished month holds three reads, and Rex, who would rather log the walk than talk about it.

Where a number can be computed, Dogoos computes it rather than asking a model for it. Your monthly Story — Whisperer and above, once a completed month holds at least three reads — is the clearest case: all sixteen Mood Types, the mood split, the biggest swing of the month, the hour you two tend to have your moments, every one of them worked out in plain, tested code from your real reads. The model is handed the finished facts and asked to write around them, forbidden from inventing an event, and a caption that comes back empty falls back to the read’s own headline rather than fabricated copy.

A few numbers genuinely are the model’s judgement, and they are the ones presented as judgement: the confidence under a read, the face, body and sound sub-scores behind it, the weekly report’s 0–100 wellbeing score, and the percentages in a breed check. Each one is an opinion with a figure attached, and none of them is dressed up as a measurement.

Calorie targets are the other shape entirely — published veterinary formulas, worked in tested code, and always given as a range because individual dogs vary by as much as fifty per cent either way. A single confident number would be easier to design and worse to act on.

Rex, the assistant, gets the brief in blunter words — never diagnose, never dose, never interpret symptoms. A medication dose is recorded exactly as your vet gave it to you, never calculated. He answers from your own dog’s records — meals, walks, weigh-ins, reminders, past reads, even your old chats — and he can reach nothing else. There is no search behind him, and no tool that touches your bones, your plan or your spins at all.

Core app records and uploaded private media are stored in European Firebase regions. Dogoos does not store the video clip as a video — it travels with the request, produces your read, and the only picture kept is the single keepsake still. Dogoos runs on the paid tier of the AI behind it, and that provider states that prompts and the files sent with them are not used to train its models without our permission — it may still log them for abuse monitoring. That is the provider’s sentence, not ours, so the privacy policy names it and links to the exact terms instead of paraphrasing them into a Dogoos promise.

Deleting your account starts permanent server-side erasure of the account, your dogs, your reads and your photos — not a hide on your phone with everything still sitting in the cloud. Export the lot first if you want it, complete read archive included, and product analytics is one tap off in Settings → Privacy.

One exception, stated plainly, because this site keeps pointing people towards households: if you shared a household, the reads you took there are anonymised rather than removed. Your name comes off them and your keepsake photos are deleted, but the mood row stays in the history your family carries on using. Leave the household before you erase the account if you want all of it gone — or email support afterwards and ask for it.

This site used to tell you a read was about two and a half seconds long. It never has been: five seconds free, ten or twenty if you subscribe. It described a game mechanic Doggy Dash doesn’t have, and offered you two context tags — “doorbell rang” and “just ate” — that have never existed in the app. Nobody lied. Every one of them was written by hand, from memory, and nothing in the build could catch it.

So the site now states a number in exactly one place, and a test reads the app’s and the server’s real source files and fails if any of them has moved. Change the free tier’s one read a day in the product and leave this page alone, and the test fails and names the number. It’s an unglamorous answer to a problem most sites solve by hoping.

Every route into Dogoos is an email to a person. There is no ticket number, no chat widget, no phone line and no bot in between: support@dogoos.com for anything to do with your account, your dog, or a read that went wrong, and hello@dogoos.com if you’re a trainer, a vet or a shelter asking about a Kennel plan. A real human reads every message, and dog photos are genuinely welcome.

The same address sits in the app under Settings → About, and in the privacy policy and terms for data requests.