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Every now and again when you’re travelling, you manage to find a place where you really feel comfortable, a home away from home if you will.

Steve and Jake and I found just such a place last summer when we visited Wolfeboro, the New Hampshire town I wrote about here last week. We stayed on the outskirts of town at the Lake Motel, a wonderful little place with it’s own beach and an old-fashioned diner just up the hill. It was within walking distance or a very short ride of the main part of town.

The Lake Motel was truly wonderful. From the moment I walked into the room, I was smitten. I can’t say exactly what it was — the place just had a feeling and the room was airy and clean and relaxing. A big bonus was a walk-in closet because, honestly, by that point in our travels I was getting a little tired of staring at saddlebags and roll bags all the time and being able to stow the bike gear out of sight was an odd and welcome bonus.

The grounds of the motel were fantastic. There was a huge back lawn that led to the beach area, complete with a little gazebo off to one side and a sort of cabana on the other. There was a lovely little beach with a wooden wharf and there were canoes and kayaks for guests’ use. Jake, of course, was completely enamoured of the beach. We spent hours there over a couple of days with him wading in and out of the water, watching as Steve and I took turns swimming in the lake. Our boy also enjoyed rolling around on the beach, but he was less than thrilled when it came time to wash off the sand before heading back to the room.

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Our RoadDog also really enjoyed walking up the hill to the diner, which had a nice little ice cream bar on one side. Our little family does enjoy ice cream, especially on a hot summer day.

And Jake and I made a rather interesting discovery while we were staying there. He quite enjoys basketball. There was a court off the driveway where Jake and I wandered at one point. I couldn’t resist the urge to grab a basketball and take a shot, which quite fascinated our RoadDog. From that point forward, every time he got near the court he had to chase basketballs around on the surface. It was all pretty entertaining.

Imagine, a would-be basketball player with five-inch legs.

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Have you ever just sort of looked at a map and said “let’s go there.”

Steve and I usually plan things a little more than that, but last summer when we had a few extra days to spare in New England that’s what we did. We looked at a map, checked a tourist guide and decided to go to a place called Wolfeboro. What a great decision.

Wolfboro is an old resort town on Lake Winnipesaukee with a population of more than 6,000. It has all the charm you’d expect of a longtime resort town. Girls, for those of you into chick flicks, it’s kind of like you’d picture the nearest town in the movie Dirty Dancing. Today, it’s obviously more modern, but you can easily imagine what it would have been like then.

The downtown looks like it came out of a movie, complete with shops lining the main street and large public docks at the lake shore behind some of those shops. There are all kinds of restaurants and bakeries, even a wonderful little candy store.

The first night we were in town we ate at Wolfe’s Tavern, which was absolutely fantastic. The food was great, but the atmosphere was so much better. You could feel that people had been eating and drinking there for a very long time.

I probably should explain that Wolfeboro, originally named Wolfeborough, was named in honour of English General James Wolfe, who had been victorious in Quebec. The town’s motto is “The Oldest Summer Resort in America.” Whether it is or not, I have no idea, but it is definitely a fun place.

Our little trio had a wonderful time there for a couple of days. We walked around, poked into some shops, rested in the shade in a wonderful park and had fantastic smoothies one morning. Jake even paddled around in the shallows of Lake Winnipesaukee.

It was a great couple of days.

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Happy Valentine’s Day everyone.

So it’s February 14 again. I’m not a big fan of Valentine’s Day. It seems kind of like a fake “holiday” to me. But in the spirit of the day, I decided to try to consider what Jake would think of Valentine’s Day if he understood it.

Hmmm … that’s an interesting question. Our RoadDog does like to give kisses. In fact, getting greeted by Jake can leave one rather damp if one is tolerant of his enthusiasm.

But Jake is definitely not into snuggling, not at all. The only times he wants to be cuddled are when he’s really tired or when he’s scared, and then only sometimes.

Our boy does occasionally sniff a flower or two, but I’m not sure roses would thrill him. And we don’t let him have chocolate because it’s bad for dogs. He does like strawberries and whipped cream, so I suppose he might be into that, at least a little.

Hmmm, as I sit here pondering the day, it seems to me that the best way to help Jake celebrate Valentine’s Day is the same thing I’ll do for Steve. I’ll stop on my way home and buy a big steak, big enough for them to share. I’ll grill that tonight and make some baked potatoes. They won’t be excited about a salad, but I may make one anyway, or some sort of vegetable.

There, that was easy. The way to my boys’ hearts is, as usual, via their tummies.
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So, right now it’s all about snow for our RoadDog.

As much as he loves riding around on a motorcycle seeing the sights and enjoying new experiences during warmer weather, Jake very much embraces winter. In fact, he’s far better at that than anyone else in our little household.

And with all the white stuff we’ve had lately, he just wants to go outside and play — constantly. Steve or I take him out for 10 or 15 minutes and bring him back inside. We’ll glance a few minutes later and guess who’s sitting by the door with his tongue out just enough to say, “Please.”

And he’s funny because he wants to play different games with each of us. With Steve, Jake loves to chase snowballs. They’ll be outside sometimes for half an hour with Steve making snowballs and Jake chasing them into oblivion, both coming back inside soaked and cold.

With me, it’s all about playing ball. He’ll go into the porch and stand sideways staring at the bench seat where we store some of his outdoor toys, including his favourite red rubber ball. I’ll put on my boots and jacket, then get out that ball. He’ll jump up and take it from my hand, bounce it once or twice until he has it in his mouth just right and he’s ready to literally run out the door … and we do run out the door.

We race out the door with me trying to make sure I close it and catch up before he gets to the end of his leash. Then it’s usually an all out run to whatever playing field, side or back yard, he selects, and the chase is on. We run back and forth and around in circles. Sometimes Jake will drop the ball so I can throw it, then we race off again.

It’s pretty tiring. The funny thing is though, when we come back inside, Jake gets to lie down in front of the wood stove and rest. I just have to get back to whatever I was doing before he appeared at the door wanting to play.

They say it’s a dog’s life for a reason you know and I’m thinking it’s not so bad.
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