Peanut’s Lake Michigan Report – July 2024

Ugh. Lake Michigan. They call this a “beach”? Cute. Let me tell you something—if you’ve strutted down a California beach with the Pacific breeze in your fur like I have, this? This is just a damp sandbox.

Anyway, here I am, Peanut, Prince of Evanston Avenue, dragged two hours north for the Barker family reunion. The whole crew is here: Leon, Colin, Julie, Daddy, Cruise (ugh), Chewy, Emma, and Joel. And yes, Cruise. That oversized fluffball still thinks Emma is his mom because he spent his puppy days here when Leon was gone. Sweetie, please. I’m the one who sleeps on the silk pillow. She’s mine.

We’re staying at the Holiday Inn—Emma says it’s “nice,” but I’ve seen better. I did manage a chain of swanky hotels in California before I came here and let me tell you, this hotel is not "nice".  Seedy would be my word for it.   I do enjoy the attention I’m getting, though. Joel carries me around like the royalty I am, which is exactly how I deserve to travel.

Then came the so-called “beach trip.” Colin, Joel and Emma take Chewy and me down to this crowded stretch of sand. Chewy loses his mind, charging into the water like he’s auditioning for some Baywatch reboot. He’s drenched and grinning, sand on his chest, looking like a wild beast. I stand back. I observe. Because I do not get this carefully styled fur wet for some puddle waves. My fur is sleek, elegant, and meant for photoshoots, not splash fights.

The humans gush over the sunset, and I have to admit, the golden light does highlight my good side. I give them my best side-eye pose—ears perfect, chin high—while Chewy thrashes around like a maniac. Honestly, someone has to bring sophistication to this family.

So yes, Chewy calls this “the good stuff,” but me? I’m counting the days until we’re back in our back yard and I am on my throne, with a proper dry breeze and no sand sticking between my toes.