June knows. The minute I bring the overnight bags out of the hall closet, she gets in front of the door to the carport and lies down across it like a draft stopper. She's about nine now, a beagle mix with gray coming in around her muzzle, and she has figured out that bags mean somebody is leaving and somebody might not be her.
Most of the time it's not her. Our weekend trips are motels, my brother's couch and the occasional state park, and very few of those want a beagle who bays at deer at 2 a.m. So before every trip, the first item on my list isn't gas or the room. It's who keeps June.
Wes's older sister Tonya lives in Pembroke, about fifteen minutes away. She has a fenced yard, a soft spot for June and a husband who pretends he doesn't. June has stayed with her more times than I can count, and she walks in like she owns the place.
We don't pay Tonya in cash. She won't take it. What we do is drop off a bag of June's dog food and fill up Tonya's car with gas before we leave. Together that comes to around $70 depending on the price at the pump. I count it as a dog expense, not a trip expense, which may be cheating on my own books, but June ate before we started traveling and she'll eat after.
The arrangement works because we don't abuse it. I ask at least two weeks ahead, I say the dates plainly and I give her an out every time. If she has a church event or her grandkids are visiting, she says so and nobody's feelings get hurt.
The kennel, for when family can't
There's a boarding kennel outside Laurinburg that charges $32 a night for a dog June's size. We used it in 2024, before our monthly trip rule, when we took a week in Myrtle Beach and Tonya had out-of-town company. Seven nights came to $224, plus a $15 charge for her to have a bath before she came home, which she resented.
It was a clean place and the staff were kind. June came home fine, a little hoarse from barking at the other dogs. But $224 was close to a whole weekend trip by our current standards, and for a three-day weekend it would be $64 to $96 on top of everything else. That's why it's our backup and not our plan.
A few things I check with any kennel:
- Whether they need proof of the kennel cough vaccine, and how far ahead. Ours wanted it at least a week before drop-off.
- Whether they're open to pick up on Sunday, since that's when we get home.
- What they do in a thunderstorm. June hates thunder, and our summers have a storm almost every afternoon.
The one bad try with a sitter app
For the Gatlinburg cabin in October 2024, Tonya was busy and the kennel was full that weekend. I downloaded one of those apps where you book someone to come by your house. We found a sitter with nice reviews who lived about twenty minutes away, booked three visits a day and paid through the app.
It did not go well. The first evening, the sitter texted a photo of June's bowl, full. The second morning there was no update at all. I texted Mr. Earl next door, who walked over and found June fine but upset, her water bowl tipped over and the back porch door not fully latched. The sitter later said a visit had been "missed due to a scheduling issue." The app refunded one day's visits.
I don't think every sitter is like that, and plenty of people swear by those apps. But I spent the rest of the weekend checking my phone in a cabin in the mountains, and that is not what I was paying for. For us, it was the last try.
When June comes along
Every so often, we take her. This June we rented a pet-friendly cabin near the Uwharrie for $105 a night plus a $40 pet fee, and she had the best weekend of her life. She slept in the back seat both ways and bayed at exactly one deer from the porch.
That's the exception, and I plan around it on purpose. Most months, the trip starts with a drive to Pembroke, a bag of dog food on the porch and June walking straight into Tonya's kitchen without looking back. Wes says she's the only one of us who doesn't need a vacation.
