Vacationing with a pup is a breeze on Jekyll Island.
By MARY JO DILONARDO
Photography by BRIAN AUSTIN LEE
Brodie is the best dog. He’s just maybe not the best beach dog. At home, our much-loved and slightly manic border collie is mostly a couch potato, making only an occasional half-effort to growl at the Amazon truck or kids in the cul de sac. He’s a sweetheart, really.
He’s never—would never—hurt a thing. But sometimes, when he’s out of the house, he morphs into an anxious, barking, twirling mess. It can be hard to take him places. Brodie has a whole list of things that make him nervous or overly excited (No. 1 being other dogs). Leash walking, even in the quiet and friendly surroundings of our neighborhood, can be intense. So it was with some serious apprehension that we loaded up the car, buckled Bro into the back seat, and headed to Jekyll Island. Unlike a lot of places, dogs aren’t simply tolerated on Jekyll Island. They’re encouraged to visit. Nearly every hotel, and many private rentals, allow pets. (There’s a good chance that your hotel has dog treats stashed behind the front desk.) Dogs are welcome to hang out at restaurants with outdoor patios. The beaches are practically made for our furry family members.
That said, when we visited in spring, the island was nowhere close to being overrun with canines. We saw dogs here and there exploring the beach, walking the trails, or lounging at restaurants. All of them were well-behaved, notwithstanding a stray bark or occasional whine. That, of course, usually came from Brodie.
We stayed at a hotel toward the south end of the island in a first-floor room with a small patio. The room offered easy access to the grounds and no stairs or elevator rides, which can be challenging or downright scary to even the coolest of dogs.
The area around the hotel was lush. Tumbleweeds of Spanish moss that had drifted from the towering oaks aroused Brodie’s interest. There were plenty of places where he could privately do his doggy business, too, and several well-placed bag dispensers and trash cans to dispose of said business. Unlike in the suburbs, there weren’t full bags left on sidewalks or petrified deposits that someone chose to ignore, either.
On the Beach
Getting to the beach was a bit of a challenge. A flight of wooden stairs climbed to a long, winding boardwalk. A set of steep steps led down to the sand. Brodie is nearly 10 years old and had knee surgery a few months ago, so we encouraged him to take the stairs slowly. If your dog isn’t terribly young or graceful, call around before you book. Ask about beaches with ADA access. Some hotels offer ramps to the beach that make the trip much easier for older, less nimble dogs.
Jekyll’s wide, flat beaches are ideal for dog walking, offering plenty of room to share the sand with other pups, which is good if your pup isn’t particularly sociable. And just about all of Jekyll’s beaches are open to dogs. A small stretch of beach just south of South Dunes Picnic Area is the only spot on the island that’s off-limits, to protect wildlife in the area.
To capitalize on quiet time and avoid run-ins with overly friendly pups, we ventured to the beach early each morning, when it was less crowded (and cooler—also good for our furry buds). Brodie went bonkers sniffing the unfamiliar odors. We tried getting him to wade into the waves but Brodie, being Bro, wasn’t a fan of the whole back-and-forth thing with the surf. Still, he liked the sea breeze, which ruffled his ears and gave him some pretty impressive beach hair.
Brodie was fascinated with jellyfish, horseshoe crabs, and sand dollars. But he wasn’t exactly sure if they were something to sniff, nibble, or roll around in. We caught him, on more than one occasion, trying to do all three. At one point, even as we kept him on the leash, he deftly dropped to his side and rolled gloriously in a batch of seaweed. He was quite pleased with himself.
The island, all pup parents should note, has a strict leash policy. No matter where you are, your dog must be on a leash, and that leash can be no more than 16 feet long. As the parents of a reactive dog, we were relieved not to have loose, unpredictable pups bounding up to us, hoping to make a new friend.
Being prepared on a beach walk is paramount. In addition to a leash, make sure to pack all your doggo supplies. A travel bowl or water bottle is critical. Hook it on your belt loop or toss it in your backpack. (And bring enough refreshments for the humans, too.) The island doesn’t have a pet store, though you can find things like collars, bowls, and treats in a few places.
In the Room
Hotels will hit you with either a nightly or a per-stay fee for pets. The charge covers a post-stay deep clean, for all that dog hair and dog-treat crumbs you might leave behind. Different hotels have different policies for keeping dogs in the room. Some require, if you’re away, that dogs be put in a crate. Others don’t allow a dog to stay unaccompanied in the room at all. Ask before you book.
Because hotels aren’t always the quietest of places, Brodie was instantly aware of every closing door, every conversation in the hallway, and any other dogs complaining about their accommodations. Anytime we went out without Brodie, we crated him and gave him a Kong filled with peanut butter. And we left on the TV, with the sound on, to keep out stray noises. (Brodie took in a few episodes of “Charmed” and at least one action-packed Marvel movie.)
When we returned, he was, as always, overjoyed to see us. He was even more excited about the mini tub of peanut butter that we pocketed from the breakfast bar.
I imagine it’s a lot of fun to travel with dogs that love everything and everyone. But when you’re dealing with a not-so-perfect pooch, like our best boy Brodie, it takes a little planning, a lot of deep breaths, and a near-ideal destination to make it work. Jekyll Island was that place for us.
