"He's not getting off that dock," Caleb said on our first evening, and he was right for four straight days.
We spent July 14 to 18 at a dog-friendly resort near Nisswa, in the Brainerd lakes area, with Hank and without Mabel (she stayed home with a sitter, which I wrote about earlier this week). I'm not naming the place, partly because I don't name local businesses here and partly because I don't want this to read like an ad. But I promised myself an honest review, so here it is: what we paid, what was great and what we'd change.
The basics
We had a one-bedroom cabin with a screened porch, a small kitchen and a short pine-needle path down to the lake. The resort has a swimming beach for people, a long main dock and, off to one side, a shorter dock where dogs are allowed to swim. Dogs can stay in the cabins but have to be leashed on the grounds, can't go on the people beach and can't be left alone in a cabin unless they're crated.
- Four nights: $1,240
- Flat pet fee: $75
- Mabel's sitter at home: $243
That's $1,558 before groceries and gas. More than we usually spend on a summer trip, but it was our first real vacation with Hank, and we decided to do it properly.
The dock Hank refused to leave
The dog dock was the best thing about the place, and Hank figured that out in under ten minutes. He'd swim out after a stick, paddle back, scramble up the little ramp at the end, shake all over whoever was closest and lie down with his chin hanging over the edge to watch the sunfish. Then he'd do it again. When we tried to walk him back to the cabin for dinner, he planted his feet on the boards and gave Caleb a look of deep betrayal.
The life jacket rule held all week: any time he was on the dock or in water over his head, it was on. He's a strong swimmer, but a strong swimmer chasing a duck into open water is still a sixty-eight-pound dog getting tired a long way from shore. The towel line I strung between the porch posts got a real workout, and we used every towel we brought.
The porcupine
Wednesday at dusk we took Hank on a last walk down the gravel road behind the cabins. He stopped dead, nose up, every muscle in his body pointed at the ditch. About twenty feet ahead, a porcupine was waddling out of the brush, completely unbothered by us.
Hank wanted to go say hello. Caleb had his collar in both hands before I'd even registered what it was. We backed up slowly, Hank whining and craning around for one more look, and the porcupine went on its way. No quills. I've seen what a face full of quills means on the clinic side (sedation, pliers and a bill), and my heart didn't slow down until we were back on the porch.
After that, dusk walks stayed on the main road.
What was great, and what wasn't
The good: the dog dock, the screened porch (essential once the mosquitoes came out around 8), quiet nights, and friendly staff who kept a jar of dog biscuits at the office and seemed to genuinely like dogs. Hank was welcome everywhere he was allowed to be, and the rules were clear.
The less good:
- The cabins are close together, and our neighbors had a beagle who barked at every boat. Hank talked back.
- No air conditioning, just two fans. On Wednesday it hit 88, and the cabin didn't cool off until after midnight.
- Slick vinyl floors. Hank, coming in wet and excited, did his best cartoon-dog-on-ice routine. I put our beach sheet down by the door after the first day.
- The pet fee covered cleaning, but we were still asked to lint-roll the furniture before checkout. Fair enough. Plan twenty minutes for it.
Would we go back? Yes, but probably in June or September instead of mid-July, when it's cooler and the cabins aren't full. We also talked ourselves out of renting a pontoon on day two, and I'm glad. Hank in a crowded rental boat would be a very different animal from Hank in my father-in-law's fishing boat.
We drove home Friday with the windows cracked and a damp, sandy, deeply contented dog asleep across the whole back seat.
Hank's take: the dock was perfect, the porcupine was rude and the ride home was too short for a proper nap.
