The Tater Strikes Back

As I ended my last dispatch, I was trapped in the trash compactor with my colleagues Tucker and Trixie aboard the vast space station, known as the Death Spud, that I had originally mistaken for a moon. Although our position is precarious, it seems that we are momentarily safe — at least, until the walls start moving …

As the giant steel plates begin grinding toward each other, Tucker, Trixie, and I desperately attempt to stop them by propping up the strongest-looking piece of trash that we can find, a long metal beam. But this proves woefully inadequate against the relentless crushing force of the trash compactor.

The walls get closer and closer together. My colleagues and I struggle to stay atop the heap of garbage as it is compressed, becoming an ever-taller, ever-narrower tower of crushed debris. But then, just as all hope appears to be lost, rescue comes from a most unexpected source:

Someone has come into the Death Spud’s kitchen and opened the trash compactor to throw away a banana peel. Taking advantage of this one chance, we make good our escape. Trixie and I are forced to drag a reluctant Tucker, who still hopes to find something good to eat among the refuse, along behind us.

Lost now in the mazelike corridors of the Death Spud, we have not gone far before we encounter a group of Spudtroopers escorting an unfortunate prisoner to a cell, or perhaps to an execution.

Fortunately we have taken them by surprise, and through a combination of my martial arts skills, Trixie’s enormous teeth, and the debilitating effect of Tucker’s incessant whining, we are able to overpower them and free their prisoner. The strange and spiny creature refuses our offer to accompany us, preferring to strike out on its own; and so Tucker, Trixie, and I don the Spudtroopers’ uniforms. Taking a cue from the cunning Captain Sweet Tater, we further complement this with impenetrable disguises to conceal our true nature, allowing us to move freely about the station.

Our goal is to find our way back to the hangar where my shuttle is berthed. Tucker, with his keen nose, leads the way, following the strengthening smell of fried sweet potatoes toward the spot where Captain Sweet Tater was felled by laser fire. But then, disaster strikes!

Tucker’s nose hasn’t led us to the hangar at all; instead, it has brought us into the presence of Captain Sweet Tater himself, now reconstituted as Darth Tater the Sith Lord! Fortunately even he cannot see through our impenetrable disguises — at least, not until his henchman orders us to remove them. Is this the end of our adventure? Surely there must be some way to escape; because I am Dennis the Vizsla, and I never give up!

22 thoughts on “The Tater Strikes Back

  1. Dennis my mom was laughing so hard she was gonna cry! You should not make people cry with your adventures! Oh, and by the way you have a banana peel on your head!


  2. Ohh wow I can see how you all were hanging on for dear lifes in the compactor!
    Wow I do not know whether this is exciting or scary..
    Poor Tucker I iz sure that he did his best…



  3. This is a very exciting story. I am glad that you escaped from the trash compactor, but now you are in real trouble. I can hardly wait for the next installment.


  4. Woof Dennis,

    That is so funny, our Mom almost spewed coffee through her nose when she saw the photos. Hey, we’re sorry we haven’t stopped by before, all we can do is blame Mom which is only fair because she blames us for everything. If you’re interested, Scuba’s birthday party will probably continue for a few days, so beam on down to Tucson, we’ll have a burger, beer and doggie biscuit waiting for you.

    Desert Pups


  5. Our mommy did spew coffe threw her nose when she read this story! Thank goodness for the banana peel! We are going to keep all of our banana peels in case this happens to us! Thank you Dennis! Hugs, Joey and Kealani


  6. P.S. When does Flat Tony get photos taken with you 3 dogs???
    Trouble, the fish & the Fred Astair place had their moment of glory but what about You, Tucker & Trixie…
    Just a friendly reminder….


  7. “debilitating effect of Tucker’s incessant whining” hahahahahaha

    Another good one. Sweet Tucker is looking old.

    Jim says: He is, isn’t he? Poor little old man …


  8. Ok, mom quit laughing and she can type for me now! That was a scary adventure. I pray you will be safe until we can read more! That Tucker even whines in his pictures!



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