In the cozy chaos of Britain’s living rooms, where the flicker of Friday night telly casts long shadows over cups of tea and half-eaten biscuits, a storm has brewed that’s got the nation barking mad. On October 24, 2025 – mere days after the clocks ticked back and the leaves turned to mulch – UKTV’s U&W channel dropped a bombshell that has split the sofa-sitters like a poorly frosted Victoria sponge: Pete Wicks, the tattooed terror from The Only Way Is Essex, has been anointed the new face of primetime doggy drama with the renewal of Pete Wicks: For Dogs’ Sake for not one, but two more series and a festive Christmas special. The announcement, timed like a sly sausage roll at a vegan bake-off, comes hot on the heels of series two’s premiere on October 13, pulling in 1.2 million viewers and a tidal wave of tail-wags from animal lovers. But not everyone’s fetching the leash. “He’s no Paul O’Grady – and he never will be!” thundered a furious viewer on Good Morning Britain, igniting a firestorm of hashtags, hot takes, and heartfelt howls. As fans hail Wicks as the scruffy successor to Lily Savage’s sequined throne, detractors decry it as a desperate downgrade for a slot once ruled by the late, great comic’s unapologetic empathy. Is this the dawn of a bold new era for feel-good TV, or a woeful watering-down of a legacy etched in paw prints and punchlines? In the dog-eat-dog world of primetime, Pete’s promotion is more than a perk – it’s a provocation.

Pete Wicks, 37, isn’t your typical telly terrier. Born in Marbella to a British dad and Spanish mum, he was shipped off to a stuffy Essex boarding school at eight, where bullies dubbed him “Pedro” and rebellion became his middle name. By 19, he was inking his first tattoo – a compass rose on his forearm, a nod to the directionless drift that led him to TOWIE in 2015. There, Pete morphed from cheeky chancer to certified bad boy: love triangles with Megan McKenna that melted Twitter, bust-ups with Mario Falcone that birthed memes, and a signature man-bun that screamed “I wake up like this.” Off-screen, he’s the softie with a shepherd: his rescue collie, Peggy, adopted in 2018 after a heartbreak-fueled scroll through Battersea Dogs Home listings. “Dogs don’t judge your dodgy decisions,” he quipped in a 2023 Men’s Health spread, his Essex twang as thick as clotted cream. Fast-forward to 2025: Pete’s pivoted from paso doble disasters on Strictly Come Dancing (eliminated week six in 2024 with pro Jowita Przystal) to podcast punditry with Staying Relevant (co-hosted with Sam Thompson, racking 5 million downloads) and radio roasts on KISS FM. Now, For Dogs’ Sake – a four-parter docu-series plunging him into the paws of Dogs Trust rehoming centers – has cemented his comeback. Series one, airing January 2025, followed Pete weighing newborns, shadowing surgeries, and sobbing over strays; series two amps the antics with cross-country capers to Leeds, Ballymena, and Harefield. “It’s my passion project,” Pete beamed in the renewal vid, posted from Basildon center, Peggy at his heels. “Animals over arses any day.”

The uproar? It’s as visceral as a Jack Russell on a postman’s ankle. Paul O’Grady, the Birkenhead battler who blazed as drag diva Lily Savage from 1992 till his 2023 passing at 67, was the gold standard for dog-centric TV. Paul O’Grady: For the Love of Dogs (ITV, 2012-2023) wasn’t just a show; it was salvation in 60 minutes – 18 series of soppy sagas, from Buster the Staffie’s sassy strut to the heartbreak of euthanasia rows that had viewers ugly-crying into their Shreddies. Paul, with his Scouse growl and fag-paper wit, turned Battersea into a national hug, raising millions and mending hearts. His final episode, aired April 2023, drew 3.5 million – a farewell that felt like losing a louche uncle. Enter Pete: inked, irreverent, and 30 years Lily’s junior in vibe if not years. “He’s a reality reject trying to tug at our heartstrings,” sneered The Mirror‘s TV critic, branding the renewal “a rescue mission gone wrong.” Social media snarled: #NoPeteNoPeace trended with 250,000 posts, clips of Paul’s tearful tributes remixed with Pete’s TOWIE tantrums. “Paul had soul – Pete’s got spray tan,” one pensioner posted from her armchair. Outrage peaked on Loose Women, where Janet Street-Porter thwacked her handbag: “It’s like swapping Sinatra for a Stock Aitken Waterman tribute act!”

Yet the admirers are out in force, yapping back with equal fervor. “Pete’s the Paul for Gen Z – raw, real, relatable,” gushed Heat magazine, spotlighting his series two teaser where he bottle-feeds a litter of labradoodles, voice cracking over a collie with “trust issues.” Viewers under 35 spiked 40% for the premiere, per BARB, drawn by Pete’s unfiltered Essex edge: no polished platitudes, just “Blimey, that pup’s proper gnarly” as he navigates a behavioral boot camp. His Dogs Trust ambassadorship since 2018 – fostering five strays, campaigning against puppy farms – lends legitimacy; exec producer Pete Ogden hailed him as “the perfect guy” for the gig. Celeb chums rally: Olivia Attwood, his Sunday Roast co-host, tweeted: “Pete’s got more heart than half the hacks in telly. Lily would love him.” Even Paul’s old sparring partner, Alan Carr, chipped in on his Life’s a Beach podcast: “The lad’s got Lily’s mischief – give him a frock and a fag, he’d nail it.” For these fans, it’s evolution, not erasure: For Dogs’ Sake spotlights regional rehomes beyond Battersea, with Pete’s banter bridging boomers and scrollers. Ratings? Series two opener hit 1.4 million, up 17%, with U&W teasing a Christmas special where Pete “plays Santa to shelter seniors.”

Behind the bark lies a broader bite: the battle for Britain’s TV soul. Post-Paul, the dog slot’s been a dog’s dinner – The Dog House (Channel 5) tugs at Woodgreen’s tales sans the star power; Dogs Behaving (Very) Badly (Channel 4) corrals naughties with Graeme Hall, but lacks the Lily largesse. Pete’s plug-in? A savvy stroke by UKTV, eyeing his 2.5 million Instagram followers (half under 25) to pup-date the format. But purists protest: Paul’s alchemy was authenticity – a gay icon from the dole queue, his Lily alter-ego a middle finger to Thatcherite grit. Pete? A polished product of TOWIE‘s tantrums, his “bad boy” badge burnished by Celebs Go Dating flings and SAS: Who Dares Wins grit (quit after waterboarding woes in 2023). “He’s commodifying compassion,” fumed a Battersea volunteer on Reddit, a 100k-upvote thread dissecting “corporate cocker spaniels.” Whispers swirl of Paul’s estate’s ire: his widower Andre Portasio, inheriting the Lily lore, reportedly “disappointed” at the “knock-off” vibe, though sources deny a formal feud.

As October’s chill deepens into November’s nip, the nation’s divided like a dual-breed litter. Pete, holed up in his £1.2 million Buckhurst Hill pad with Peggy and a fridge stocked with meal-prep mushy peas, shrugs off the shade in a Hello! exclusive: “Paul’s my hero – this ain’t replacement, it’s respect. If Lily were here, she’d slag me off then buy me a pint.” Filming wrapped in September across rainy rehomes, with Pete emerging “exhausted but elated,” his tattoos a roadmap of the road to redemption. Maura Higgins, his Strictly squeeze and rumored “Posh and Becks of telly,” teases joint jaunts: “Pete and pups – my kinda power couple.” Detractors? Unswayed, petitions for a Paul tribute slot hit 50,000 signatures, urging ITV to revive For the Love of Dogs with a rotating roster of rogues.

In the end, this primetime pup-arazzi isn’t about one man’s muzzle; it’s a mirror to our mongrel moods – craving the comfort of O’Grady’s growl amid modern mayhem. Pete Wicks may never don the frock or master the Mersey malarkey, but in a world of scripted snarls, his sloppy sincerity slobbers with promise. Will series three fetch the faithful, or flop like a flatulent Frenchie? As Christmas crackers loom and kennels quiet, Britain’s biting its tail: innovation or insult? Tune in to U&W – if you dare. The pack’s howling, and the hunt for heart is on.