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Susy Smith is planning a seaside staycation with her adolescent spaniel. But mortifying memories of past holidays with hounds in tow give paws for thought

Staycation stampede!” reads the newspaper headline. Crikey, I think, we’d better get something organised for our break away this year before we’re too late. It turns out we already are: a quick search online shows that many properties are fully booked until 2022! How ridiculous, I scoff, then castigate myself for being so foolish and leaving it to the last minute. I mean, it’s not as if we didn’t know that the entire UK population, banned from travelling abroad, was going to be holidaying at home this summer.

I need a strategy to ensure success. First, the destination. A place we know or somewhere we’ve never visited? Countryside or coast? The Country Living team are putting together a feature on their favourite British beaches (see page 66) and this makes up my mind. Seaside it is. Having lived with the same limited views for so long during lockdown, I am suddenly gripped by a desperate need for open space with sea, sky and the soothing sound of waves lapping the shore. Shetland appeals, as does Wales – and Northumberland – but my favourite piece of coastline has to be Dorset. The area around Bridport, Burton Bradstock and Lyme Regis holds many memories for me.

Then it all comes flooding back… Many years ago, we treated my parents to a much-needed holiday, with us and our two cross-breeds at a dog-friendly Dorset hotel. It would be fair to say it wasn’t a success. Everyone else’s canines lay quietly at their feet in the bar while their owners chatted or read the newspaper. Our two were so over-excited by a dozen other dogs in close proximity, they almost pulled over the table in their attempts to ‘work the room’.

I returned them to our bedroom and sternly told them to stay on their beds while I went to eat dinner. Half an hour later, the manager came to find me: “Madam, it appears your dogs are being rather noisy. Perhaps you could attend to them.” I returned upstairs to find both hounds leaning out the open window, barking at passers-by. We quickly finished our meal and set off for the beach. “What they need is a good walk,” I explained to my somewhat stressed-out parents. We had a lovely time, until one of the dogs decided to eat rather a lot of seaweed. It didn’t seem to be causing her any problems until, on our return to the hotel, she promptly regurgitated it – all over the carpet in reception. Suffice to say, my mum and dad never holidayed with us again.

This brings me on to our current staycation complication: Finlay, our eight-month-old cocker spaniel, will be accompanying us. Not that he’s picky. He will be happy with anywhere he can get his nose to the ground and follow a scent. Or chase a ball. Or find another dog for a bit of rough and tumble. Some poo to roll in, any kind really, would be the icing on the cake. So, we need to find accommodation that is pet friendly, with an enclosed garden. I start looking. But the recent explosion of dog-ownership means everyone else has had the same idea.

Then, oh joy, we get a surprise phone call from friends. “Would you like to join us for a week in Cornwall?” they ask. They have rented a cottage overlooking the harbour in a pretty coastal village. “And,” they add, “you can bring Finlay.” We say yes instantly. Then I look at the link they’ve sent. The cottage is gorgeous. Frankly, too gorgeous. The week of elegant calm our kind friends envisage – gentle strolls through the town, eating outside at chic restaurants, perhaps a boat-trip round the bay – seems like little more than a pipedream. These are cat people, unused to the mayhem an adolescent spaniel can create. I recognise there is a theme emerging here but badly behaved dogs are not to blame: it’s their owners who should face reproach. While I am determined to turn Finlay into the kind of dog anyone would be happy to have around, I confess we have not reached that point yet. So now we have a dilemma: do we take Finlay with us and potentially ruin our friends’ holiday? Do we turn down the offer? Or do we go dog-less?

Then my phone pings. It’s a text from an old friend asking if we would like to holiday with them in Whitstable. Now this is more like it. I know this home and, while immensely stylish, it is fairly dog-proof. These friends are doggy people and know the score.

A quick conversation with my daughters confirms that, yes, they will dog-sit while we have our relaxing getaway in Cornwall. Then we shall take Finlay to doggy heaven in Whitstable. I can stop searching. For, despite my tardiness, we now have two lovely holidays on the horizon and everyone is happy. Result! Now I just need to find a dog-friendly beach ball…