When we brought Riptide home, we knew we had adopted a dog with a few quirks, a whole lot of energy, and a heart bigger than his 25 pound body. What we didn’t realize was just how quickly he would completely take over our lives… and our schedules.
Here are a few of Riptide’s greatest accomplishments so far.
The Stone Crab Dinner That Made Him a Celebrity
Patrick and I celebrated our anniversary about two weeks after bringing Riptide home. I had a craving for fresh stone crab, so we found a dog friendly restaurant in Cortez and headed out for a date night.
There was a 30 minute wait on a beautiful evening, and then we got seated. High top table. Uh oh.
Riptide was not thrilled about being away from his people in a busy environment, so I did what any reasonable dog mom would do. I took off my fleece jacket, laid it on the chair next to me, and lifted him up. There he sat for over an hour, soaking up attention from everyone around him.
The other diners thought he was professionally trained. Naturally, we bragged that we had only had him two weeks, he was a ten month old rescue, and we were the lucky ones. After dinner, he even experienced his first hermit crab race.
Fetch: The Trick My Other Dogs Somehow Never Learned
Riptide is the first dog I actually taught to fetch. Not because my other dogs couldn’t. They were just spoiled and I didn’t ask much of them.
I’ve learned that dogs need mental stimulation just as much as physical exercise. Let them sniff, explore, run, and be dogs. A busy mind is a happy mind.
Because Riptide is very food motivated, training treats have been a huge help. Small, high value treats work best, and I try to keep treats around 10% of a dog’s daily calories.
His Favorite Kind of Human: Tiny Ones
Riptide has never met a dog or child he didn’t love. Watching him play with our grandson, running, pouncing, changing directions, and laughing together, is one of those moments that reminds you how special the bond between children and dogs can be.
The Great Crate Debate
Riptide has been in his crate exactly three times. Three.
Thanksgiving arrived, and instead of worrying about dinner, Patrick and I were worried about Riptide. One month into our relationship, he had only been crated once, the first night. Dad worked from home, and when Dad had appointments, it was basically "bring your son to work day" with Mom.
Patrick refused to be the bad guy, so the job fell to me. I scattered a handful of tiny freeze dried treats throughout his crate and ran out to the garage in my heels before he could object.
I waited for the crying. The barking. The guilt trip. Nothing. We came home to a happy dog who immediately forgave me with kisses.
I have used crates thousands of times and have taught countless pet parents about training. This wasn’t my first rodeo. So why was it different this time? I got soft. And honestly… I’m okay with that. (For those keeping score, his third and final crate appearance was at a Christmas party.)
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