hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay it seems that my dada is going away to the mithikal land of noo york for a kuple of weeks for his mama and dadas fiftyith annieversary!!! hay wow that is probly like a five hunnerdeth annieversary in dog yeerz i wunder wot yoo git sumwun for a five hunnerdth dog yeer annieversary!!! ennyway he sez he is not going to be aybel to help me do blogs until he gits bak kan yoo beleev it??? krool krool dada!!! however i beeing the savvy kontent programer wot i am hav kleverly arrayndjd for their to be reepeets of old sunday awards and meem shows wile he is gawn!!! those wil start nekst week tho for this week heer is a pikcher of me reelaksing and reekoperayting and posibly prepayring to destroy my kurrent most fayvritist thing in the wurld the funzler bal!!!
Having gone back to the future with Doc Brown only to discover that the Earth has been overrun by human/Konglek hybrids, we have traveled through space and time back to the place where I originally met the Kongleks in a last-ditch attempt to put things right. If we fail now, then we will have to face the possibility that there will be no more fetch, no more flyball, no more agility. But there will be plenty of Kongs to chew on, so either way it will not be a complete disaster, at least, not for me.
Having been brought back to the future by the mysterious Doc Brown with the intention of reversing the Konglek conquest of Earth, we have quickly found ourselves overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. How can we stop an invasion that has already succeeded? Only time will tell …
After a relaxing weekend spent squiring the Princess around Rome, my holiday came to an abrupt end with the arrival of a mysterious, disheveled man driving a car that, in this place and time, should not exist. Knowing my name and claiming that I have wrought havoc with the time-space continuum, he urges me to get into his vehicle. Is he a friend? A foe? Or both? Only time will tell …
Having been more or less abducted by the mysterious Doctor, I have now traveled with him to the far-off Planet Petco, where I have been assured that we will receive a hero’s greeting, not to mention any number of free stuffies. But when we exit the TARDIS, our welcome is not as the Doctor predicted. Not in the slightest.
After being “rescued” from the clown wizard’s dungeon by the mysterious Doctor Who, I have found myself whisked off across the galaxy inside what appears to be an extremely technologically sophisticated phone booth. I am not sure what exactly the Doctor’s purpose is in keeping me aboard his ship; as far as I can see, his interstellar wanderings are even more aimless than mine were when I was first taken aboard an alien spacecraft nearly one year ago. But I cannot convince him to return me to the university, and so I must make the best of an extremely odd situation.
The helicopter flight from Skull Island to my ultimate destination has been long and exhausting, the only rest period being a layover in Japan to drop off Young Kong in Tokyo. It turns out that my kidnappers in the black airships had no interest in Young Kong at all; they were only after the Kong of the Gods itself. And, as it turns out, me.
It has been three weeks since I was taken as a pet by the monstrous ape that rules Skull Island. Sometimes I despair of ever escaping my captivity, recovering the Giant Kong, and getting off this desolate rock; but I am Dennis the Vizsla, and I never give up. I merely have to bide my time, and wait for the right opportunity.
After my failure to secure the Giant Kong, I learned that it had been placed on a tramp steamer bound for a mysterious island in the South Pacific. I quickly booked my own passage on another vessel that was following the same path, only to find myself confronting my greatest challenge yet on a desolate jungle island far, far away.
I failed to retrieve the Giant Kong from the Kraken before he passed it to the notorious Piranha Brothers. Now I’ve learned that the Piranha Brothers have fenced it to some mobsters in order to keep it away from the fearsome hedgehog Spiny Norman. I cannot let this archaeological treasure languish forever in some kingpin’s lair; it belongs to the world, not the underworld. And so, I must go undercover.