Pitted. So pitted. Photo: @sugarthesurfingdog
People, let me tell you ‘bout my best friend. Bringing your dog to the beach is a simple pleasure. All of the sand, stink, and rotten tummies from the salt water can’t compare to the smile it leaves on your face — and theirs.
This past 4th of July weekend, I ventured down to a surfable dog beach in San Diego and witnessed the joy and mischief that comes with the territory of an overloaded dog beach. There were stolen snacks, popped soccer balls, and sand distributed into every open food item left on a blanket.
I entered the fray, and asked around to hear the funniest stories from surfers who bring their dogs to the beach.
Here’s a few golden sea memories from the best pups surfers have ever known.
Potato Salad Sandwich
Tim, originally from Northern California, recalls his first taste of dog humor: “My first memory of bringing my childhood pup to the beach was comical. Ellis, our 40-pound sheepdog, wasn’t a traditional beach dog.”
But that didn’t stop her.
Tim continues, “My father and I took an auger and tried fastening her in the sand while we paddled out. I recall turning around and wondering where the hell she went. She was our lineup marker. Then I saw her making a beeline down the beach — destination unknown.”
That’s when she trampled through a family picnic, with the leash and auger flailing behind, dragging sand into every bit of the picnic that she didn’t hit directly.
Screams of, “There’s sand in the potato salad!” were heard from the lineup.
Tim concludes, tongue in cheek, “Big smiles in the water. I never found out who that family was, but hopefully they turned that potato salad into a sand-wich.”
Gritty pun. Or a dirty dad joke. Choose your own adventure.
Can you say, “Beach party! Photo: Unsplash
Search And Destroy
Andre, from San Diego, owns a chocolate lab named Pudge. He’s a waterdog through and through.
“Normally,” Andre says, “Pudge loves to dig holes so big that they collapse, leaving him covered in sand. This makes him proud, apparently. But one day he encountered something he wasn’t too familiar with, and found his new favorite toy.”
Andre, who usually surfs, was coming off a broken foot. He could hobble around in his boot, but thought that surfing was still a few weeks away. So he brought a boogie board to the beach.
“I opted for the sponge (an old Morey boogie board),” Andre says, “Pudge was obsessed with it. Pounced and thrashed it whenever I got close. I would ride close up to the shore… and he’d be there to greet me with a big smile. He — apparently very against sponging — swam up to me and did his best Jaws impression.”
Andre lets out a chuckle, “I started screaming, ‘There’s a dog in the estuary!’ He eventually ripped the leash off my hand and tore the thing to pieces. Not the cheapest chew toy in the world, but I didn’t have the heart to stop him.”
If your beach is overcrowded with spongers, Pudge’s services are available at a reasonable rate.
The Snack Bandit
Shaun is an east coast transplant living in SoCal. Since relocating to the Golden State, he spends his weekends at the beach, surfing with his partner and watching his energetic Jack Russell Terrier — Bandit — frolic in the shoreline.
“So, one day we’re out surfing and decide to leave Bandit on the beach,” he says. “Normally, my partner stays on the beach and watches the dog while I surf. Then we switch. But that day was so perfect, we decided to let him do his thing.”
Bandit did his thing, alright.
Shaun continues, “He seemed like he was just chilling on the blanket, taking a nap. We clipped his leash to the cooler. I didn’t think he was going anywhere. When we got back in from the surf, he was just laying there. Everything seemed fine. But when we got closer we noticed he’d slipped his collar. And he was munching on the remains of a Cali burrito.”
Shaun pauses for a moment, his face filling with remorse. “I was worried… was there guac or onion in it? We monitored him and he was fine, thankfully. Better off than whoever lost their burrito. Last time we left him alone, though.”
When asked about who’s at fault in a situation like this, Shaun played both sides of the coin, “On one hand, definitely up to the owner to control their dog. It’s our responsibility. But if you’re at a dog beach, should you really be able to bring food that can harm a dog?”
No petition for criminalizing guac on a dog beach has been reported — yet.
Ball Buster
Eduardo, another San Diegan, recalls a time when he went upcoast to visit the pristine beaches of Laguna with his mutt Buster.
“Buster was rambunctious that day,” he says, “I knew we had to get to the beach. I wasn’t sure what the regulations were, but I saw a few other dogs running around, so I didn’t really think twice.”
Eduardo went in for a surf, and left his dog with his son and his friends. When he came in, he noticed the kids sitting around on their phones.
“I was like, what the hell, man. We’re at the beach,” he says, “Why aren’t they playing with the football I bought? That’s when I noticed Buster running around with the deflated pig skin in his mouth. I was like hey, I paid $20 for that thing. I’m glad someone is having fun with it.”
Money well spent.
Your dog loves the beach as much as you, probably more. Be a good friend (to man’s best) and never be afraid to utter those trigger words, “Hey buddy, wanna go to the beach?”
