Seth Meyers’ Beloved Italian Greyhound Frisbee Passes at 14, Leaving Behind a Legacy of Chaos and Cuddles
Jaden Patel here—your friendly neighborhood cynic with a clipboard and a dry wit. Let’s get this out of the way: dogs die. People pretend it’s tragic. I’ve seen the memes. I’ve cried into my coffee. But when your dog is named Frisbee and has a feud with Andy Samberg that rivals Shakespearean drama, the loss isn’t just emotional—it’s theatrical.
Seth Meyers, late-night host and accidental canine diplomat, confirmed on Instagram that his beloved Italian Greyhound Frisbee passed peacefully at age 14. “RIP to Frisbee, our OG IG who I was happy to go grey with,” he wrote, which is either poetic or a very specific metaphor for aging in tandem with a tiny dog who once stared down a serial killer’s eraser. The post included photos of Frisbee mid-snooze, mid-kiss (on Seth’s face), and mid-plot twist—because apparently, she had a habit of popping out of blankets like a furry ghost from a poorly written sitcom.
Her life wasn’t all naps and selfies. Frisbee was a cultural force. She appeared in every single family Christmas card, a tradition so sacred that one year, Andy Samberg—yes, *that* Andy Samberg—sent back the card with her face scratched out like a rejected audition tape. “He scratched out her face like a serial killer,” Seth recounted on his show, deadpan as ever. “And I’m not mad. I’m honored.” This wasn’t just pet rivalry; it was a full-blown feud, documented in real time, complete with passive-aggressive mail art. And yet, Seth insists Samberg’s hatred is genuine. “He really hates my dog,” he said. “Since she was little. Now she’s 14. Still hated.” That’s commitment.
Friends and former SNL castmates rallied around Seth with tributes that ranged from heartfelt (“Frisbee forever”) to dramatically over-the-top (“Oh nooooo!!! So sorry buddy!!!”). Only Samberg remained silent—a masterclass in emotional restraint. Was it guilt? Regret? Or just the kind of silence that only comes from someone who knows they crossed a line by defacing a dog’s likeness? We may never know.
Frisbee’s legacy extends beyond the backyard and the Instagram grid. She was a co-star in the family narrative, a confidante during parenting chaos, and a living reminder that even the smallest creatures can leave the biggest paw prints. Her presence was described as “at her best curled in your lap”—a phrase that sounds suspiciously like a eulogy written by a man who finally got his dog to stop stealing his socks.
And while we’re mourning the end of an era, let’s not forget: pets are people too. They have quirks, grudges, and holiday cards that get vandalized. They love us, they judge us, and sometimes, they’re just there to be kissed on the cheek before collapsing into a pile of fur.
So here’s to Frisbee—tiny, feisty, and unforgettable. May your next life involve fewer scratch-outs and more treats. And if you’re out there, Andy… maybe send a condolence note. Just say “Sorry I ruined your Christmas card.” It’ll mean something.
Well, there you have it. Another day in the human circus, where the stars cry over dogs, and the dogs don’t care.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and E! Online, People Magazine
Generated by AI
