We love animals at the Story Inn and encourage guests to bring their well-behaved canine companions with them to the following cottages at a charge of $10.00 per pet per evening:
For a special outing with your pup try one of the hiking trail in the State Park and then take your four legged friend to Bone Appetit in downtown Nashville for a treat!
If you are unable to bring your own four-legged friend to the Inn you might enjoy the company of some very special Story residents.
I am an aggressively friendly two year-old Blue Heeler, and have lived at Story ever since I was separated from my litter mates. I have lived with humans so long that sometimes I think am one of them. My favorite human is Little Rich, the son of the owner. He takes me everywhere in his car, and lets me sleep with him in his bed. He feeds me scraps from the kitchen. I'll eat anything.
Blue Heelers are a high-energy breed intended to herd sheep. If no one gives me a job to do (you know what they say about "idle paws"), I sometimes make sport of taking apart the owner's leather dress shoes (I find wing tips to be especially tasty, especially when they are well-seasoned with summer foot sweat). Sometimes that herding instinct kick in, and I have an impulse to round-up the chickens here. I would never harm them, but they don't seem to know that.
I did have a best friend as a dog once, a Great Dane known as Riva a/k/a "Little Girl". She outweighed me by over 130 pounds. Nevertheless, I was able to boss her around, due to my superior intellect and much higher energy level. Little Girl moved away in January. I miss her. I'm sure she's sleeping on a couch somewhere.
Story is home to twelve chicks, one adult hen, and one big, strutting cock (i.e., rooster). All of them are Wyandots (grey and white in color, with beautiful patterned feathers). We honestly don't know how the hen and rooster got here. They just showed up one day. But you will see them wandering the property, scratching and pecking away, particularly near the end of the horse trail (lots of bugs there--yummy!).
We look at our dozen chicks, all females which have reached puberty, with the same level of consternation as a father who sees his daughters off to the High School prom. We do not have names for the individual chicks, but we do have an obvious name for the rooster: "Lucky Pecker".
Clyde, Front Door Feline Greeter.
I am a big, wise orange cat who's been around the block. I came to Story from the Brown County Humane Society down the road. I learned a thing or two during my period of incarceration.
My long-time human owner died a few months ago, which landed me in the joint. It's tough living behind bars, especially since, given my advanced age, no one wanted to adopt me. That all changed when Story's owner's son, Little Rich, took me home one day. (It's hard to compete with cute young kitties. But beauty is skin-deep, I say!)
Anyway, I am now gainfully employed as Story's front house greeter, replacing Tina (see below). It's a supplement to Social Security. You'll see the hominid version of me next time you visit Wal Mart.
I love my job, which entails sleeping where people want to walk, forcing them to step around me. I get many friendly scratches that way, and an occasional hand-out. My favorite sleeping spot is right at the front door to the restaurant. That's where people are most likely to bring me a scallop. A lot of the guests attempt to discourage me from sleeping in the middle of the road in front of the Inn. I assure them, chill out. The cars always swerve for me!
Some of the ladies think I'm just a dirty old man, and want to look up their dresses. But I assure you, I'm all over that stuff. Years ago, my human caretaker made sure that my distinguished mix of bloodlines would end with me. And human females were never interesting to me in the first place.
Though my energy level is not what it used to be, I sometimes execute my job with real enthusiasm! I have been known to follow guests back to their cars, or rooms. I fear no human, because they have always been nice to me. I really want to do a good job, too, because I don't want to go back to the joint.
Petunia, Feline Greeter in Training.
Petunia is a ferel kitty dumped here in 2012. She has a lovely disposition, but she is a bit shy (we believe that she was abused). Thus, she declined to write an essay about herself.
Once we did her the service of spaying her and cleansing her of intestinal parasites, she gained weight fast. At the present time, she hangs out primarily at the back door, where she can enjoy Ahi tuna, U-10 scallops and other such delicacies without too much human contact.
Goodbye, Tina, Chief Greeter:
We regret to report that our beloved kitty “Tina” passed away quietly in the evening of January 18, 2010. The immediate cause of her death was lethal injection, at the veterinarian’s office. We made the decision to euthanize Tina upon the vet’s diagnosis of an incurable cardio-pulmonary condition. She was somewhere between nine and sixteen years old.
Persons unknown dumped Tina and her fresh litter of kittens here in August of 2002. Tina and her precocious offspring soon became darlings of the Story Inn. After spaying and neutering the bunch, we found good homes for her entire clan. Tina was thereafter employed as the official Story Inn greeter, often found sleeping on the front porch, forcing restaurant guests to step over her.
In 2007, Tina was struck by an automobile, breaking her tail. She endured the indignity of a surgical procedure which shortened her tail, and the bestowal of the unflattering nickname “Stubs”, with remarkable equanimity.
Tina was known to follow guests around the property with a slavish attention to humans more characteristic of canines. She was also known to sleep around indiscriminately with humans of either gender. Her favorite foods were salmon, scallops, and halibut.
Tina will best be remembered for her appearance as “Miss January” in the Story Inn’s 2008 and 2009 calendars, the photo having been snapped by the legendary Bloomington photographer Steve Raymer. More recently, we had numerous overnight guests describe their experiences sleeping with Tina, in a column we named "Pethouse Forum". She was, indeed, a creature of comfort.
Donations in memory of Tina's rich life can be made to the Brown County Humane Society, 128 SR 135, Nashville, IN 47448, (812) 988-7362.