Looking Back at Muddy Chewy

 

Looking Back at Muddy Chewy

I’ll never understand Chewy’s obsession with mud. Honestly, the whole “rolling in dirt like it’s some kind of spa treatment” thing? Disgusting. Just look at this photo of him from 2013—he’s grinning like he just won an Olympic medal in filth.

Chewy lived for that kind of chaos. Mud puddles, rainstorms, splashing through every questionable puddle on the block—he thought it was the height of fun. Me? I’ll pass, thank you very much. I’m a prince, not a swamp creature. My paws are meant for clean sidewalks and soft blankets, not mud pits.

But… I’ll admit something. There’s a part of me that admired the old guy for it. He didn’t care what anyone thought. He was all heart and attitude. If something brought him joy—mud, barking at the mail carrier, stealing my snacks—he went for it 100%.

Sometimes I think about him, all muddy and proud, and I realize that maybe I could use a little of that Chewy spirit. Not the mud part (ugh, no). But the unapologetic way he lived his life. Chewy didn’t hold back.

Still, I’ll keep my paws clean, thank you. Someone in this pack has to look civilized.

Peanut, Prince of Evanston Avenue