Homer: (about Santa's Little Helper) Aw, how come he gets meat and we don't?
Marge: You wouldn't want what he's eating, it's mostly just snouts and entrails.
Homer: Mmmm, snouts.
Veterinarian: This is the part of the job I hate the most. (tosses hamster into trashcan with mini-basketball hoop)
Homer: Hey, you did the best you could.
Veterinarian: I love animals. I spend my life saving them and they can't thank me. Well, the parrots can. Let's see what's wrong with this one.
Bart: Hey, wait a minute. Does this have to do anything with Santa's Little Helper?
Marge: Oh, honey, seven hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money. We really can't afford this operation.
Bart: You're gonna just let him die?
Marge: I know you're upset.
Bart: Darn right, I'm upset!
Marge: Bart! Watch your language! Oh, you did. Sorry.
Bart: I'm not gonna let our dog die and that's it! (leaves the kitchen and mumbles to himself)
Homer: I want to tell you about the most wonderful place in the world: Doggie Heaven. In Doggie Heaven, there are mountains of bones, and you can't turn around without sniffing another dog's butt! And all the best dogs are there, Old Yeller, and about eight Lassies.
Bart: Is there a Doggie Hell?
Homer: Well... of course, there couldn't be a heaven if there weren't a hell.
Bart: Who's in there?
Homer: Oh, uh... Hitler's dog... and that dog Nixon had, what's his name, um, Chester...
Homer: Yeah! One of the Lassies is in there, too. The mean one! The one who mauled Timmy!
Homer: I wanna pet him again!
Marge: You can pet the cat.
Homer: The cat? What's the point?
Ned Flanders: So, recycling is just our way of giving Mother Earth a great big hug!
Mr. Burns: (sarcastically) Yes, well, it does sound delightful! I can't wait to start pawing through my garbage like some starving raccoon! (whispers to Smithers) Release the hounds. (to Flanders, as Smithers walks away) Well, neighbor, I see you've got your running shoes on. That's a good thing.
(The hounds are set on Flanders, who screams like a girl and flees.)