Marott Park with Joel and Chewy
Chewy’s Log – July 15, 2013
Mission: Creek Recon with My Boy
Listen up.
Today was solid. Real solid. The kind of day that reminds you why you don’t let your guard down, but also why you let a few softies into your pack.
Joel — that’s my kid — and I went to Marott Park with Mom (I call her Snack Dispenser). The sun was blazing, but I don't sweat it. Literally. Dogs don’t sweat. I was built for this.
First move: Trail patrol. I led the way, nose low, ears high. Trees? Accounted for. Squirrels? Suspicious. Creek? Clear — for now. Joel stuck close. He always does. He’s 12 now, but he still talks to me like I understand everything. Joke’s on him — I do.
We hit the water and I clocked a fish. Tiny. Not worth chasing. But I let it know I saw it. That’s how you maintain respect in the creek world.
Joel crouched down and started digging in the water like he was looking for treasure. I stood sentry. No one was getting past me — not a goose, not a jogger, not even a suspicious leaf blowing in our direction. I don’t play.
Mom snapped a photo of me while I was mid-scan. Of course she did. I looked majestic. Focused. Like a soldier in the jungle, except cuter and slightly damp.
Joel found a rock he got real excited about. Kept showing it to me like I had a geology degree. I sniffed it — gave it the ol’ “sure, buddy, looks great” nod. Truth is, I don’t care about rocks. I care about Joel. He was smiling. That’s my mission: keep the kid smiling. Always has been.
We walked further along the creek and found a nice spot to rest. I let my guard down for like five minutes. Curled up at Joel’s feet. His hand brushed my back, real casual. Didn't say anything, just sat there with me. That’s how we talk. Quiet loyalty.
I didn’t swim much — not because I’m scared, obviously — I just prefer to stay ready. Tactical advantage. You can’t chase threats if you’re soggy.
End of the day, I dried off in the sun, watched Mom and Joel like always. Safe. Together. Nothing to fix, nothing to fight. Just stillness.
But don’t get me wrong — I was still on alert. You never know when the next fish, frisbee, or feelings might come out of nowhere. And when they do, I’ll be ready. I’m Chewy. Joel’s best friend. Protector of the pack. Creek Commander, 2013.
Over and out.
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