Andy Samberg Denies Role in Celebrity Dog's Death in Hilarious Feud Finale

Max Sterling, 8/28/2025In a deliciously absurd tale of man versus tiny dog, Andy Samberg's legendary feud with Seth Meyers' Italian Greyhound Frisbee persisted beyond the pup's passing, culminating in what might be history's most entertaining canine obituary saga. Now that's commitment to a bit!

Hollywood's latest bizarre saga isn't about method acting or award season drama — it's about a comedian's theatrical hatred of a tiny dog. And now that dog is dead.

In what might be the entertainment industry's most peculiar posthumous declaration of innocence, Andy Samberg felt compelled to address swirling speculation about his role in the demise of his longtime nemesis: a small Italian Greyhound named Frisbee, who happened to belong to fellow SNL alum Seth Meyers.

"I didn't kill Frisbee," Samberg recently declared to Entertainment Tonight, before adding with his trademark deadpan delivery, "much as that would've delighted me." The timing of this statement — coming just as his new film "The Roses" hits theaters alongside Kate McKinnon — has only added to the deliciously absurd nature of this whole affair.

Let's back up a moment. The Samberg-Frisbee feud has been the stuff of entertainment legend for years, a bizarrely compelling subplot in the usually manufactured world of celebrity rivalries. When pressed about the source of his antipathy toward the diminutive pooch, Samberg offered an explanation so wonderfully vague it could only enhance the comedy: "Oh, just the general appearance and vibe... And, um, essence. And like, feel."

The death's timing — just one day after Samberg's 47th birthday — sparked a flurry of playful conspiracy theories across social media. But perhaps the most remarkable aspect of this story isn't the timing or even the cause of death — it's the steadfast commitment to what must surely rank among show business's most unlikely feuds.

Meyers himself confirmed the mutual nature of the animosity, taking to X (formerly Twitter) to inform the world that "She disliked him too, FWIW" — a detail that somehow makes the whole situation even more absurdly perfect.

In an age where celebrity beefs often feel as authentic as reality TV drama, there was something refreshingly genuine about Samberg's unwavering disdain for a tiny Italian Greyhound. Even as Frisbee approached her final days, the Brooklyn Nine-Nine star refused to dial back the bit — a dedication that earned him unexpected praise from Meyers himself.

"You did not take your foot off the gas," Meyers noted admiringly during their joint podcast appearance. Samberg's response carried an unexpected weight: "I feel like that would've been disrespectful to her, in a lot of ways. She would've been like, 'Hey, don't take it easy on me.'"

The whole affair reached its peculiar zenith when Frisbee received — of all things — a New York Times obituary. Samberg's reaction? Pure, unbridled joy. "Never in my wildest dreams did I think A, that I would have the privilege of being so inextricably linked to Frisbee's demise," he gleefully noted, "[Or] that good ol' Fris would get so much love and coverage."

Maybe there's something oddly comforting about this tale of a comedian's inexplicable beef with a small dog — a feud that managed to transcend even death itself. As Meyers aptly noted, Frisbee "was worth more than just how much Andy fucking hated her." Though perhaps, in the end, it was precisely that hatred that helped cement her legacy in the increasingly bizarre annals of 2025's pop culture landscape.

Hollywood's latest bizarre saga isn't about method acting or award season drama — it's about a comedian's theatrical hatred of a tiny dog. And now that dog is dead.In what might be the entertainment industry's most peculiar posthumous declaration of innocence, Andy Samberg felt compelled to address swirling speculation about his role in the demise of his longtime nemesis: a small Italian Greyhound named Frisbee, who happened to belong to fellow SNL alum Seth Meyers."I didn't kill Frisbee," Samberg recently declared to Entertainment Tonight, before adding with his trademark deadpan delivery, "much as that would've delighted me." The timing of this statement — coming just as his new film "The Roses" hits theaters alongside Kate McKinnon — has only added to the deliciously absurd nature of this whole affair.Let's back up a moment. The Samberg-Frisbee feud has been the stuff of entertainment legend for years, a bizarrely compelling subplot in the usually manufactured world of celebrity rivalries. When pressed about the source of his antipathy toward the diminutive pooch, Samberg offered an explanation so wonderfully vague it could only enhance the comedy: "Oh, just the general appearance and vibe... And, um, essence. And like, feel."The death's timing — just one day after Samberg's 47th birthday — sparked a flurry of playful conspiracy theories across social media. But perhaps the most remarkable aspect of this story isn't the timing or even the cause of death — it's the steadfast commitment to what must surely rank among show business's most unlikely feuds.Meyers himself confirmed the mutual nature of the animosity, taking to X (formerly Twitter) to inform the world that "She disliked him too, FWIW" — a detail that somehow makes the whole situation even more absurdly perfect.In an age where celebrity beefs often feel as authentic as reality TV drama, there was something refreshingly genuine about Samberg's unwavering disdain for a tiny Italian Greyhound. Even as Frisbee approached her final days, the Brooklyn Nine-Nine star refused to dial back the bit — a dedication that earned him unexpected praise from Meyers himself."You did not take your foot off the gas," Meyers noted admiringly during their joint podcast appearance. Samberg's response carried an unexpected weight: "I feel like that would've been disrespectful to her, in a lot of ways. She would've been like, 'Hey, don't take it easy on me.'"The whole affair reached its peculiar zenith when Frisbee received — of all things — a New York Times obituary. Samberg's reaction? Pure, unbridled joy. "Never in my wildest dreams did I think A, that I would have the privilege of being so inextricably linked to Frisbee's demise," he gleefully noted, "[Or] that good ol' Fris would get so much love and coverage."Maybe there's something oddly comforting about this tale of a comedian's inexplicable beef with a small dog — a feud that managed to transcend even death itself. As Meyers aptly noted, Frisbee "was worth more than just how much Andy fucking hated her." Though perhaps, in the end, it was precisely that hatred that helped cement her legacy in the increasingly bizarre annals of 2025's pop culture landscape.