Mr. Nibbles: “You look like you have a question, friend Hipsters.”
Chaplin: “We don’t understand why we’re having a party for Dennis but he isn’t here for it.”
Spicoli: “Oh, little dudes, this isn’t a party. It’s a memorial service. And that’s how memorial services work. You know, just like the ones for Trouble and Tucker and Trixie.”
Rest in peace, Dennis the Vizsla Dog, you’ve earned it.
Maybe Probably 7/24/2006 – 10/31/2018
Dada’s Note: Dennis’s bounce only lasted for a little while before it became apparent that he was declining again, and that we were going to be facing more bad days than good ones going forward. We decided it was time to bring him in so that his vet could perform a final service for him. After snacking on steak, cheese, and butter-fried chicken, he crossed the Rainbow Bridge peacefully in the afternoon on Halloween, the day that would have been his brother Tucker’s 20th birthday.
Run free with Tucker and Trixie in the fields and forests and flyball tracks of the Rainbow Bridge, Dennis, until we meet again.
Dada’s Note: Literally the day we were going to make the call, Dennis suddenly bounced back, happily greeting us at the door with a wagging tail for the first time in days. Whether this is an effect of increased prednisone and his new biome treatment finally kicking in or just a spontaneous remission, we don’t know, but we’re happy he’s feeling better for however long as it lasts. Meanwhile, Dennis decided to celebrate his good fortune by playing the lottery.
Mr. Nibbles: “Friend Dennis, what are all those coupons you’ve got there?”
Dennis: “They’re a bunch of TennisBall lottery tickets that I bought.”
Mouse: “Are you sure you don’t mean Powerball?”
Dennis: “Umm, I don’t know. What’s the difference?”