Look, I’m a strong swimmer.
I’ve got long legs, webbed toes, and a serious love for splashing around with my parents. Give me a sunny day, a lake, and I’m in heaven.
But this summer (summer isn’t over until I say it is!), I’ve been asked (strongly encouraged) to talk about something important: lifejackets. For dogs.
Now, if you’re thinking, “But Mack, you’re a doodle. You’re basically half seal,” trust me, I get it. I also once thought I was invincible in water. But then I jumped off a dock a little too far from shore… and I realized: swimming is tiring. Water is deep. And even the best dog paddlers eventually get tired, especially if there are waves, currents, or, I don’t know, you can’t leave your parents’ side while they are swimming.
So let’s talk about boating. Boats are awesome. They go fast. They make a breeze. You can stand at the front and pretend you’re in a movie. But they also move in ways that are weird for dogs. Sometimes you slip. Sometimes the boat hits a bump. And if you fall in?
Let’s just say Mom and Dad are traumatized from the time my cousin Rosie jumped off the canoe after spotting a loon.
That’s why they bought me a dog lifejacket. It’s bright orange. It has reflective strips. It also has handles on top, which makes me feel like a fuzzy suitcase. Do I look cool in it? Debatable. Do I get more treats when I wear it? Absolutely.

Some of my dog friends (looking at you, Rosie) don’t get the hype. They say it’s bulky. They say it feels weird. Arthur even said it messes with his fur volume. But here’s the thing: you can’t be brave if you’re in trouble and no one can see you.
Lifejackets help us stay visible. They help us float if we get tired. And they give our humans something to grab onto if we need help getting back in the boat, onto the dock, or out of a situation we didn’t sniff our way out of properly.
Plus, if your humans are like mine, wearing a lifejacket earns you bonus points. You get called “smart,” you get your ears scratched in that proud-parent way, and people on the dock say things like, “Aw, look at the responsible boy!” which I assume is a compliment.
So, even though I’d rather be writing about post-swim zoomies or the art of the wet shake, here I am. Reminding you, from one water-loving dog to another, to suit up when you’re swimming in big water, especially if there’s a boat involved.

And if your human puts one on you, don’t fight it. Lean into it. Work it. Pose. Make it a moment. Because being safe doesn’t mean you can’t also look fabulous and float like a pro.
See you on the water.
(I’ll be the one in orange.)
