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Is Pothos (Devil’s Ivy) Poisonous to Pets? What to Notice and Who to Call

This page is not veterinary advice. It does not tell you how to treat your pet, and it is not a diagnosis. If you think your pet has eaten or chewed something, or you are worried about how they are behaving, phone your own vet or an emergency vet now - they are the only ones who can tell you what this particular animal needs.

Pothos is one of the most common houseplants on earth, which is exactly why this page exists. It is sold as the plant you cannot kill, it trails beautifully from a shelf or a hanging pot, and it ends up in kitchens, bathrooms and living rooms in households that have never thought of it as a hazard. Then a cat bats a vine, or a puppy finds a trailing end at exactly nose height, and you are standing there holding a chewed leaf wondering how worried to be. Yes, pothos is toxic to dogs and cats - and the honest answer to how worried to be is that it is not a question a web page can answer about your animal. This page will help you notice the right things and make a genuinely useful phone call.

The only instruction on this page

Phone your own vet, or an emergency vet if yours is closed. Do it now, while you are still reading this. You do not need to know what happened, how much, or whether it is serious - working that out is their job, and they would far rather hear from you early than late.

Go straight there, ringing on the way, if you see any of these: laboured or noisy breathing, collapse, a fit, heavy bleeding, or the simple feeling that this animal is not right. With a plant like pothos, add one more: any change in the sound of your pet's breathing, or any difficulty swallowing.

Everything else on this page is here to make that phone call more useful. None of it is a reason to delay the call.

Four houseplants, one family, and why we keep four pages instead of one

Pothos, philodendron, peace lily and dieffenbachia are all Araceae, and the ASPCA records insoluble calcium oxalates as the toxic principle for all four. Because the mechanism is shared, a reasonable person would ask why there are four pages rather than one. The honest answer is that the mechanism is the least useful part of any of them.

What differs, and what an owner actually needs, is per plant: which name is on the label, which plant it is confused with, where it sits in a room, and how an animal typically reaches it. Those four things are different for every plant in this list, and they are the parts each page now leads with. Dieffenbachia also carries a second listed principle the others do not, a proteolytic enzyme.

If you are trying to work out which of the four you have, the fastest discriminator is habit. Pothos and philodendron trail or climb. Peace lily is a compact clump with a white spathe. Dieffenbachia is a thick upright cane with large variegated leaves. If you still cannot tell, photograph it rather than guess a name.

What makes pothos specifically the one animals reach

Pothos is sold on the promise that it is impossible to kill, which is why it ends up in the rooms and positions no other plant survives: on top of a wardrobe, on a shelf above a radiator, hanging in a bathroom, trailing down a bookcase in a hallway. The plant that thrives on neglect is also the plant that is placed and then forgotten about, and forgotten placement is the reason animals meet it.

The stems are the specific problem. A mature pothos trails a long way and the ends move in a draught. For a cat, a moving hanging string is an invitation, and the contact is not a single bite but batting followed by chewing, sometimes repeatedly over an evening. For a dog the equivalent is a fallen or pulled down length of vine on the floor.

That means the honest answer to how much was involved is often more than the owner first thinks, and it is worth checking the whole length of the plant for chewed ends rather than looking only at the pot.

Its many names, which is a problem on a phone call

Pothos is Epipremnum aureum, and it is sold as devil ivy, golden pothos, money plant, marble queen, neon pothos, satin pothos and taro vine, among others. Money plant is the most dangerous of those on a call, because that name is also used for entirely unrelated plants in different countries. If you bought it under a trade name, say the trade name and say that it is a trailing plant with heart shaped leaves, so the person you are speaking to is not working from a name alone.

Source for the family and the toxic principle, for this plant and the other three: ASPCA toxic and non-toxic plants database, read 5 August 2026.

What pothos actually does, and why it happens so fast

Pothos - Epipremnum aureum, also sold as devil’s ivy, golden pothos, money plant or taro vine - contains insoluble calcium oxalate crystals. That phrase does a lot of work, so it is worth unpacking, because the mechanism explains everything else on this page.

These crystals are needle-shaped and packed into specialised cells throughout the leaves and stems. When an animal bites down, those cells rupture and fire the crystals into the soft tissue of the lips, tongue, gums and throat. It is a mechanical injury, not a poisoning in the ordinary sense. Nothing has to be absorbed into the bloodstream for it to hurt; thousands of microscopic needles have simply been driven into the lining of the mouth, and the tissue responds the way any tissue responds to that - with immediate pain, inflammation and swelling.

The important consequence of that mechanism is that the reaction is immediate rather than delayed. Unlike a poison that has to be absorbed, digested and carried to an organ before it does anything, this is a physical injury that begins at the moment of the bite. That is why owners so often catch it happening - and it is also why the amount swallowed is a poor guide to how bad it will be. A single determined chew can do more than a mouthful that was spat straight out.

What you might see, described without diagnosing

You are not trying to work out how serious this is. You are trying to build a description accurate enough that a vet can work it out over the phone. Plain words beat clinical ones every time - say what you can actually see, and say when it started.

  • The mouth. Pawing at the face or mouth, rubbing the muzzle along the floor or furniture, head shaking, or holding the mouth strangely open.
  • Drooling. Note whether it is new, and whether it is thin and watery or thick and ropey. Drool that suddenly starts and does not stop is worth saying out loud.
  • Swallowing. Repeated swallowing, gulping, gagging, or food and water being taken and then dropped. Say whether they have managed to swallow anything at all since it happened.
  • The voice. A changed bark or meow, or a hoarse, quiet or absent sound, tells a vet something about the throat that nothing else will.
  • Breathing. Any new noise - snoring, whistling, rasping, harshness - or any effort you can see in the chest, belly or nostrils. This is the observation that moves the whole thing up the queue.
  • The face. Puffiness of the lips, cheeks, tongue or the area under the jaw, and whether it looks the same as it did ten minutes ago or different.
  • The animal as a whole. Bright and cross, or quiet and withdrawn? Standing normally, or braced and unwilling to move? You know this animal's ordinary; nobody else does.

If you can safely take a photograph or a few seconds of video from a distance, do. A vet reading a face and a breathing pattern with their own eyes is worth a great deal more than your best attempt to put it into words at two in the morning.

Why this page does not tell you to look in your pet's mouth

Older versions of pages like this one - including an older version of this page - told owners to open the mouth, wipe it out, rinse it, or flush it with water. That advice has been removed deliberately, and it is worth explaining why rather than simply dropping it.

An animal in mouth pain is an animal that bites. Not out of temper, and not because it is badly behaved - because a mouth that hurts and a hand that arrives in it produce a reflex no training overrides. The gentlest dog in the world and the most tolerant cat will both do it. Every year, owners who were trying to help end up in a human A&E department, and a bitten owner is an owner who is now driving to hospital instead of driving to the vet. The animal waits longer.

Your hands make the injury harder to read. A vet looking at a mouth wants to see what the plant did. Wiping, rubbing and rinsing rearranges it, spreads material from one place to another, and can push fragments further back rather than removing them. You can genuinely make the picture worse while intending the opposite.

And it is not the thing that helps. The reason to be worried about a mouth injury like this is what happens at the back of it, where you cannot see and cannot reach. Whatever you achieve at the front changes nothing about that - but it does use up minutes, and minutes are the one resource that actually matters here.

Why "just give them some water" is not the harmless suggestion it sounds like

Offering water or milk is the most natural instinct in the world. It reads as kind, it feels like doing something, and it is on a great many web pages. It is still not a decision to make from a search result, for three reasons.

  • The throat may not be working normally. The whole worry with this kind of injury is swelling and pain in the mouth and throat. An animal that cannot swallow properly can inhale what you give it, and something inhaled into the lungs is a far more serious problem than the one you started with - and a much harder one to treat.
  • It can rule out treatment options. Depending on what a vet decides is needed, an empty stomach may matter. An owner who has just given a bowl of milk may have removed a choice from the person about to make the decisions.
  • It does not undo anything. There is a comforting mental picture of washing the trouble away. That is not what is physically happening, and acting on the picture rather than the mechanism is how well-meant help goes wrong.

So the honest answer is: ask. "Should I offer him anything to drink?" takes four seconds on the phone, and the answer is sometimes yes. It should be their yes, made about your animal, not one you gave yourself from a page written for every animal.

The facts to gather while the phone rings

These are the things nobody but you can supply, and having them ready turns a vague call into a useful one. Gather them while you are dialling, not before - the call comes first.

  • The plant itself. Keep what is left of it, including the chewed piece if you can see it. If there is a nursery label in the pot, keep that too - it carries the botanical name, which removes all doubt about what this actually is.
  • A clock time, not an elapsed time. "About twenty minutes ago" quietly becomes an hour while you are talking. "It was ten past nine" stays true. If you did not see it happen, give the window: the last time you know the plant was untouched, and the time you found it.
  • Roughly how much, honestly. A guess offered as a guess is useful. A confident number that is wrong is worse than nothing. "A bite or two out of one leaf" or "I genuinely cannot tell" are both perfectly good answers.
  • Your pet's weight as a range you believe rather than a number you have rounded, plus their age, breed and rough condition.
  • Anything else in the picture - existing conditions, regular medication, a recent illness, pregnancy, or a flat-faced breed whose breathing is not spacious to begin with.
  • A photo of the plant. Houseplants are frequently misidentified, and a clear picture settles in seconds what a description can argue about for minutes.

What to say when they pick up

“Hello - I need advice about my [dog/cat]. [Name], [age], about [weight]. At about [clock time] I found [him/her] chewing a pothos plant. I think [how much], but I am not certain. Since then [what you can see]. [His/Her] breathing sounds [normal / different, and how]. I have the plant here and a photo of it. What would you like me to do?”

Then read the key facts back once, so an error gets caught while it is still cheap. And before you hang up, ask two questions: “What should I watch for that would mean I ring you again sooner?” and “If I am coming in, what should I bring?”

Why “it is only a houseplant” is the wrong frame

Pothos does not have the reputation that lilies or sago palm have, and for one narrow purpose that is fair: it does not typically cause the catastrophic organ failure those plants are known for. That comparison, though, is where a lot of owners go wrong, because it quietly converts “less dangerous than the worst plant in the world” into “not a problem”.

The thing to hold onto is that the risk here is not about the liver or the kidneys. It is about the airway. Swelling in a mouth and throat is not dangerous because of what the plant is doing to the body chemically - it is dangerous because of where the swelling is. A small animal has a small airway, and tissue that puffs up in the wrong place does not need to be dramatic to matter. That risk is uncommon, and this page is not telling you to expect it. It is telling you that it is the specific thing worth a professional’s eyes, and the specific reason that “wait and see how she does overnight” is a poor plan.

There is a second reason not to relax. Cats in particular are drawn to trailing vines, and a plant that has been chewed once is usually a plant that is still reachable. The phone call handles tonight. Moving the plant handles the next time.

Why cats and pothos are such a common pairing

Almost every feature that makes pothos a good houseplant makes it a bad houseplant to own with a cat. It tolerates low light, so it goes in rooms with less traffic. It trails, so it goes up high - on shelves, on top of cupboards, in hanging pots - which is precisely the territory a cat considers its own. And the movement of a dangling vine is close to irresistible to an animal built to chase small moving things.

Dogs get into it differently: usually a young dog, usually a plant at floor level, and usually as part of a general programme of putting everything in the house in its mouth. In both cases the useful conclusion is the same, and it has nothing to do with treatment. “Out of reach” means out of reach of an animal that climbs and jumps, which is a much higher bar than it sounds when you are the one deciding where the shelf goes.

A page to keep by the phone

Write it down - you will not remember it accurately later

Clock time it happened (or the window):

Plant, and what the label says:

How much, honestly:

Weight, age, anything ongoing:

What I can see, in plain words:

What the vet told me to do:

Things I am not doing

Before I put the phone down

This card is plain paper on a screen. Nothing you type is stored, sent or seen by anyone - it exists so you can print the page, or so you have somewhere to put the facts while you wait for someone to pick up.

On a calm day

Once tonight is dealt with, the thing that actually prevents a repeat is not vigilance - it is geography. Move pothos somewhere genuinely unreachable, or rehome it to a friend without pets, or replace it with something that does not carry the risk. A hanging pot is not out of reach of a cat that can get onto the bookcase beside it, and a trailing vine that reaches down to nose height has effectively brought the plant to the floor. Photograph the labels of the plants you own and keep them in your phone; if there is ever a next time, identification stops being guesswork.

If you want to check the rest of what you own, our poison control directory and the wider poison control directory are the places to start, and the poison control directory walks a room at a time. Doing that on a quiet afternoon is worth more than any emergency page, including this one.

Where this page sits

This is one page in a small set written to be read in the worst ten minutes, and they are all built on the same principle: tell you what to notice and who to call, never what to do to your animal.

Not veterinary advice. Paw Multiverse is an information site written for pet owners, not a veterinary practice. Nothing here replaces a conversation with a vet who can see, hear and examine your animal. If you are in any doubt at all, call your vet or an emergency vet now - being told it is nothing costs you a phone call, and being wrong the other way costs a great deal more. See our full disclaimer.

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