Travels with Sophie: Dog-Friendly Sanibel

Hi. I’m Sophie the Wonder Dog.

I like to get my people out of the house once in a while. The back yard is great and all, but there’s a big world to sniff.

Normally, what I do is have them put on my “sass”—I’m wearing my pink sass for this trip. And when they say “Load up,” it means they’re ready to go.

From what I understand, other dogs also like to get their people out there once in a while. And if those dogs are like me, they’re all about fun, so they might like to hear about our adventures. Maybe it will inspire them to take their people on some new adventures of their own.

Dog House Away from Home

All I can say is: Sanibel's Tropical Winds=Fantastic. Probably the only dog-friendly accommodations right on the beach. The grounds offered plenty to sniff, if you know what I mean—several other canine guests were staying there too.

The bed was great for afternoon napping and the terrazzo floor cooled my tummy after a hard morning of romping through the waves.

The Glorious Seashore

I couldn’t get enough. I mean, that’s why you go to Sanibel, am I right?

I’m a water dog by nature and I’m totally addicted to tennis balls.

What more is there to say?

Doggie Dining

Lots of restaurants on Sanibel invite people to bring their canine companions. Actually, Sanibel is a very dog-friendly destination—as long as owners are responsible and make sure to be respectful of the wildlife and conservation issues—no chasing birds over the delicate sand dunes, in other words (and I’m a bird dog!). We have to stay on a leash at all times (except when I’m treading water after those tennis balls) but it’s worth it to feel welcome in such a beautiful place.

So—at Sanibel's Island Cow, I sniffed everyone’s table along the way to ours. The guy brought me a bowl of water. Thanks, chump. He could have at least thrown me a bone, huh? The shrimp and grits looked like a nasty bowl of gravy—she sent it back and ordered red beans and rice, but I would have eaten it. Just sayin’.

Sightseeing

The Sanibel Lighthouse offers several sniffing trails and is adjacent to a nice little beach. I was ready to jump in, but they wouldn’t let me. Said something about “next time,” which I don’t even know what that means. (Usually they say stuff like they’ll be “back in five minutes.” And sure enough, there they are.)

But the sniffing was good anyway.

Sophie Snacks

You gotta love a place like Pinocchio's Ice Cream that gives us four-legged customers a complimentary “puppy cup” of vanilla soft serve. And a liberal sprinkling of unabashed adoration. That’s what I really love.

I’m looking forward to our next big adventure, which will probably be in about five minutes.

Life's a beach, babe.

Every turn of the tire across that six dollar toll bridge gets us one step closer to beachfront bliss. The blue water sparkles seductively. We see our cares in the rearview mirror, stranded on the mainland.

Sanibel welcomes us to a seaside state of mind…where the only agenda item is collecting shells on the golden shore, a glorious place to kill time till cocktail hour and dinner.

The winding drive along the main road curves under blazing royal Poinciana trees, past heavy-hanging coconut palms that look like they’ve been growing there forever. The landscape gives way to native tangles of mangrove, wax myrtle and other scrub until we reach Castaways at last, just before the road jumps over to Captiva.

Castaways…Perfect name for a perfect getaway. Our petite apartment looks across a crunchy, crushed shell “patio” toward the swimming pool.

Dredging, with its mile-long black tube snaking across the sand, parallel to the water, is a necessary but ugly activity. The tinkling sound of sea treasures tumbling and whooshing through the flume is magical, though. At its end, the mother lode of shells spews out in a mud-smelling rush at the feet of our small crowd. Buckets fill with Florida fighting conch, calico scallops, whelks, banded tulips, olive shells and more. A rare Junonia, chocolate chip spirals around a vanilla swirl, sits perched on top of one woman’s overflowing pail. I can tell that the thought of distracting her and snatching it has crossed the minds of several onlookers.

Later, we wander toward Castaway’s inland marina, to the dockside duplex inhabited by our extended family. Mojitos mixing in the kitchenette, happy catch-up conversation filling the room…until we amble, amoeba-like, the thirteen of us, to the Lazy Flamingo next door.

Packed restaurant, a bit of a wait—all the more remarkable as it is run by TWO people. And efficiently so. The bartender/waitress/hostess commands her post at the U-shaped bar, taking orders and zinging them on a wire back into the kitchen where her partner cooks up fresh seafood. A ring toss game and cold beer distract hunger-induced impatience. When you’re on Island Time, amusement comes easy.

Next day: Bailey-Matthews Shell Museum—where the educational video taught us way more about the cut-throat, albeit slow-moving, world of the mollusk than we ever dreamed possible.

Tasty buffalo shrimp and sweet mojitos are downed at

Doc Ford’s Rum Bar & Grille, operated by Randy Wayne

White, perhaps better-known for his literary pursuits.

Before we know it, it’s time to head back to civilization…

Castaways no more.

Up Next: Spirited Adventure in Cassadaga