SHOCKING: Rachael Ray’s Heartbreak Over the Rescue Dog Who Taught Her How to Love

Rachael Ray recalls the shelter mutt that turned her into a devoted dog person.

Over the years she welcomed a string of rescues—Pomp, Isaboo, and others—each one leaving a permanent mark. Her husband Kevin and the whole household became believers in second chances, and the house filled with the chaos only saved animals bring.

One dog, Berry, became the emotional centre of it all. When Berry died, Ray was gutted; the loss rearranged how she understood love and loss. She has spoken about that grief openly, insisting it deepened her devotion rather than dimming it.

Today Ray channels that heartbreak into advocacy, urging fans to consider adoption and to honour the animals who teach us how to feel. The rescue dogs, she says, didn’t just share her home—they built the person she became.

Photography: Image: Madrabothair

Q: If readers were to change just one thing with their dogs, what would you recommend?

Stop (inadvertently) rewarding bad behaviour! Training is letting the dog know you like or dislike a behaviour as it happens, through timing, body language, and tone. No animal reads us better than the dog—none. A thousand times I’ve arrived at a client’s door and Cujo wants to eat my kneecap, held back by the owner. And what’s the owner doing? Trying to calm the aggression by petting Cujo, saying “It’s okay.” That’s like Mom praising her four-year-old for pinching Grandma. Stroking him in that moment only feeds the aggression. The body language (petting) = reward. The tone (loving voice) = reward. The timing (loving strokes as the bad behaviour happens) = accidental reward. Pet Cujo with a smile only when his behaviour makes you happy.

Q: Do people need to be more aware of the energy they send their dogs?

You bet! Feisty thinks it’s his job to throw his weight around with every dog he sees. You’re relieved it’s foul weather—the best day to take him to the park, fewer dogs about. You’re hanging out facing the entrance; Feisty is relaxed, facing away. Then someone walks in with a German Shepherd. Without thinking, you tighten the leash and snap, “Feisty!!” He was fine until the sudden pressure on his neck and the tension in your voice startled and spooked him. What does he link that anxiety to? The other dog he now sees. The timing of your energy worsened his trouble. One thing I do with a dog like Feisty is load him with love and praise just before he spots another dog, flipping the association.

Pic: Image:Minimalis Photography (stock)

Q: Why would a middle-aged dog suddenly show problem behaviour?

I’ve lost count of owners saying “My dog does [whatever] for no reason at all.” There’s always a reason! Like the terrier owner who said, “Gouger scratches at this wall—for no reason!” Easy: I told her to call an exterminator, something was behind that wall. Your dog is tuned in to the house’s vibes and will react to your mood shifts—from lottery joy to a cancer diagnosis, job loss, or divorce. So when an older dog suddenly acts out, I ask what changed at home. Once a couple called about their six-year-old mini Schnauzer, Smokey, suddenly peeing indoors and acting scared ‘for no reason.’ Vet ruled out physical causes; an hour of questions turned up nothing, so I had them leave a voice-activated recorder in the living room. (I’ve used recorders as court proof of real barking time—never lost a case; complainants always exaggerate.) Did I mention they also had an African Grey parrot named Bandit? Next day: “That stinker Bandit mimics the doorbell, then screams at Smokey when he barks, calling him a bad boy and worse—Bandit’s having a ball making poor Smokey nuts!” A little confidence work for Smokey and moving Bandit to another room solved it. There’s always a reason.

Q: Why is a dog’s den instinct so important to use?

For us two-leggeds, the den is the house—our safe harbour, where we want to return. I think of the house as two dens: the house is the den, the bedroom the inner den, the bed the deepest retreat when we feel awful. Same for our four-legged family. Honouring the den instinct is key to housebreaking. If you don’t teach your dog the house is his den too, you’ll burn through detergent and odour spray. Even if Dribble does the kid’s homework and takes out the trash, if he soils indoors, it’s no good! The good news: dogs prefer a clean den. Start by teaching Dribble to love his crate as his den—feed him there, praise and treat when he’s in it, never use it as punishment. He’ll choose to ‘hold it’ rather than foul his den. As he joins the whole house, the crate becomes his inner den and your house becomes his. Eddie Murphy once asked why his dogs peed on the fancy dining-room carpet. Turns out they were hardly ever in there—maybe once at Thanksgiving—so that area was never part of the den and became fair game.

Photography: Image: Javier Brosch

Q: How do you handle unruly behaviour at the door and endless barking at visitors?

A dog’s territoriality is a main reason we struck the social contract with dogs. That instinct makes them our alarm system. With their hearing and nose, little sneaks in unnoticed. Sometimes it runs away, like Liam Martin’s Chihuahua who barked at a guest for 15 minutes even after he was inside. Liam, a Boston CBS anchor, asked me on air how to fix it. With minutes to spare I gave a quick fix: “Does Lilly bark at people you meet outside?” “No, she’s fine outside,” he said. “Great—from now on, you and Lilly meet your guest outside, easing her territorial drive. Slip the visitor a treat, have them ask Lilly to sit, and reward her. Then walk in together, guest first, sitting and calling Lilly over for another treat.” Barking solved. Since door chaos is so common, my sessions nearly always include a ‘door turmoil routine.’