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:

Wheeler Back
Doc Story

Schultz Haus Front
Schultz Haus Back
Wilkerson Front
Garrison Gunflint
Garrison Treehouse
Garrison Durango
Garrison Tack Room

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.


"Snow", Story's ubiquitous canine:

I am the new kid to the Story family.  In fact, I'm relatively new to the world. I was born on July 1 of 2013, and arrived at Story on August 9 but I hit the ground running...befriending every man, woman and beast to come my way. I guess you could say my hobbies are greeting guests, playing with other animals (except for Clyde who, try as I might, just doesn't want to be bothered) and hoping that I get left overs from the kitchen. Other joys include playing the creek and jumping into horse troughs when I get too hot. 

My mom is a magnificent German Shepherd, and my dad is a Husky that Jack London would have admired.  Good Teutonic bloodlines that instilled my love of cold weather and big, big snow drifts.  I'm 70 pounds of pure furry lovin'! 

I blow my winter coat in the Spring, shedding enough wolf-scented fur to fill several trash bags.  The owner brushes me out in Story's vegetable gardens.  The fur discourages pilfering deer and rabbits.   

I live by this creed: if it comes with four legs, play with it; if it comes with two legs, love it; and if it smells good, eat it!

Sometimes, I lie on the front porch of the Inn. No one gets in without petting me!


"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 three years ago, which landed me in the "Joint" (i.e., the Humane Society).  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 also publish my diary on this website, entitled "Clyde's Column". 

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.  (Dogs beg for food; felines get tipped!)

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". 

For many years, Tavern customers have taken to defacing perfectly good dollar bills with messages that are sometimes not fit to print.  They staple these bills to the Tavern beams; it is a primitive, albeit effective, form of Facebook.  On January 1 of each year, the kindly bartender pulls these down and sends them to the Humane Society, where they may be productively employed to spay and neuter my ilk.  I welcome this effort, because I don't like the competition at the front porch.             


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.