On March 16th, we said goodbye to our sweet and sassy Chewy. She passed peacefully at home, surrounded by her family and cuddled up in a soft warm blanket, just the way she liked it. Her dog brother, Mo, sat by her and gave her kisses the whole time.
Chewy was mine and my husband’s first pet together and has been with us almost our entire relationship. We adopted her as soon as we moved to Grand Rapids because the volunteer at the Humane Society told us Chewy was her favorite and had been there for a long time. We took one look at her, swooned, and brought her home that day. She spent the entire first year with us peeing on our stuff and hiding behind the couch. The only time she would come out from hiding was when Peyton would play guitar. She would sit right in front of him and stare adoringly. She always loved music… but we weren’t sure if she liked us much, haha!
It wasn’t until we got her brother, Randy, that she really came out of her shell. She let him know right away that she was not to be played with, but she allowed him to sit near her and started coming out from her hiding spots more often. She started greeting us when we got home and talking a lot more and napping in communal spaces. She became way more social and affectionate than she had ever been. Most appreciated of all— she stopped peeing on everything. She was always quite private and independent (up until the very end), but she accepted us as her family eventually.
She was a real diva. She was the prettiest girl in town and she knew it. She would strut through the house like she was on the runway at New York Fashion Week and she groomed herself obsessively. She preferred to sleep on pillows like true royalty and she would cover her eyes during naps if the sun was too bright for her liking. And she was so graceful— you couldn’t even hear her land on the ground after leaping off of something because she was so light on her feet.
She had a very intense stare. If she wanted something, she would let you know it by sitting inches away from your face and peering into your soul until you gave in to her demands. It was a battle of wills and she always won.
She absolutely loved people food. She once ate an entire 1 pound bag of beef jerky that my mom mistakenly left unattended. French fries and popcorn were her favorites. She was also a big fan of Thanksgiving turkey.
She had a purr you could hear from a mile away but could never quite get a full meow out. It came out as a sort of croak that made her sound like she was a lifelong smoker.
She barely EVER ran and she would only play with socks in secret when she thought no one was watching. We caught her once and she took off running like she was robbing a bank and we were the police arriving on the scene. After all these years, I still think that’s the only time I’ve ever seen her run.
And boy— was she tough. When we got our newest addition, Rudy the Terrible, he thought he would be able to pick on our old lady. She taught him quick. All it took was one raised paw and he would take off running. Don’t mess with the queen!
I’ll miss her for all these reasons and so many more. But most of all, I’ll miss her little croak every time I woke her up from a nap and the way she demanded wet food by glaring at me from the kitchen like she could make one call to end my life. She had such a personality, our Chewy girl. The house already feels emptier without her perched on the top of the couch, snoozing in the sun— with her eyes covered, of course. We’ll never, ever, forget her, and we’re lucky to have been her family for 8 wonderful years.
Rest easy, baby girl. We love you. I know you were strutting your stuff over the rainbow bridge.