I’ll never forget the drive to our little slice of Wiltshire heaven – or rather, the comedy of errors that got us there. We’d piled into the car from Salisbury, just a cheeky 10-minute jaunt to this Exclusive Lodge 3 Bed (Pet) Ht, with our madcap Labrador, Rufus, slobbering over the back seat like he’d won the lottery. I’d promised the family a proper chilled-out three-day break, no faffing about, just us, the dog, and some proper countryside peace. But five minutes in, I took a wrong turn onto a narrow lane that looked promising on Google Maps but turned out to be a tractor’s playground. Stuck behind a rumbling beast hauling hay bales, we crawled along at snail’s pace, Rufus whining like we were personally offending him. “Dad, are we there yet?” piped up little Ollie from the back, for the umpteenth time. I chuckled, windscreen wipers battling a sudden drizzle – classic British summer, innit? – and finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably 20 minutes, we spotted the lodge nestled in its private hot tub haven.

Pulling up to the place was like stumbling into a hug from an old mate. Tucked away in a serene spot near Salisbury, this exclusive lodge screamed cosy without trying too hard – think wooden cladding glowing in the soft afternoon light, surrounded by lush Wiltshire fields that rolled out like a green blanket. The kids tumbled out first, whooping as Rufus dragged me towards the front door, tail wagging like a windscreen wiper on full beam. Fumbling the key code (because of course I’d left my glasses in the glovebox), we stepped inside, and blimey, it was love at first whiff of fresh linen and woodsmoke from the log burner that hadn’t even been lit yet.

First impressions? Spot on for our relaxed family vibe. The open-plan living area was the heart of it – squishy sofas begging for a collapse, a telly bigger than our lounge at home, and a kitchen kitted out with everything from cafetière to that posh bread bin you never knew you needed. I brewed a cuppa straight away (priorities), while the missus unpacked the Waitrose hamper we’d grabbed en route – local cheeses, pork pies, and a bottle of something fizzy to christen the stay. The kids claimed the three bedrooms like gold prospectors: Ollie and his sister bagged the master with its king-sized bed and en-suite, all crisp whites and fluffy towels, while we took the twin with views straight out to the garden. Rufus, the furry VIP, got his own pet-friendly zone with blankets and bowls already set up – no diva tantrums from him.

But let’s talk chaos, because what’s lodge life without a dash of it? No sooner had we cracked open the biscuits than Rufus spotted a rabbit through the patio doors and launched himself at the glass like a furry missile. Thud! Laughter erupted as he slid down, dazed but undeterred, while I mopped up his paw prints. It was pure, unfiltered joy – that simple pleasure of everyone piling onto the decking, feet up, watching the world go by. The private hot tub was the star, bubbling away invitingly under a pergola, fringed with fairy lights that promised evenings to come. We didn’t hop in straight away – too busy gawping at the garden, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, and those distant chalky hills of Wiltshire whispering “slow down, mate.”

Stepping out for a nose around, we wandered the immediate grounds, the air thick with that earthy scent after rain. It felt like we’d slipped into a postcard – sheep bleating faintly, birds flitting about, no traffic hum to ruin it. Back inside, I had a quiet moment by the window, mug in hand, watching the family sprawl out with board games. Three days of this? Perfect. Work stress melted away; here I was, mid-40s and realising the best holidays aren’t about ticking boxes, but these unhurried first hours – mishaps, slobbery dogs, and all. If you’re after a pet-inclusive bolthole that nails the relaxed Wiltshire escape, this lodge is your ticket. We were hooked from the off.