Fact Check: Is Mark Zuckerberg’s Dog Dead?
No Best is Not Dead / Its Oliver
Recent posts on X, dated June 30, 2025, claim that Mark Zuckerberg’s dog, named “Beast,” has passed away, sparking discussions and condolences online. These posts reference a cryptocurrency token ($BEAST) tied to the narrative, with market cap details and expressions of sympathy. However, there is no verified evidence from credible sources (e.g., news outlets, Zuckerberg’s official statements, or Meta’s channels) confirming Beast’s death.
Beast, a Hungarian Puli, has been featured in Zuckerberg’s public posts since 2011, including a January 2024 People.com article about his family’s Hawaii compound, with no mention of Beast’s passing. The X posts appear to be a mix of unverified claims and promotional content for a cryptocurrency, lacking substantiation. Given the history of satirical misinformation about Zuckerberg (e.g., false claims of his death or a dog meat farm), these posts are likely unreliable without official confirmation.
Conclusion: The claim that Mark Zuckerberg’s dog, Beast, died is unverified and likely false, based on available information. No credible sources confirm the event, and the narrative may be tied to speculative or promotional activity on X.
Emotional Story: Mark Zuckerberg’s Farewell to Beast
Mark Zuckerberg sat quietly on the lanai of his Hawaii compound, the ocean’s soft roar blending with the rustle of palm trees. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, but his eyes were fixed on a worn tennis ball clutched in his hand. It was Beast’s favorite, the one he’d chase with that wild, curly mop of fur bouncing like a storm cloud across the grass. Beast, his Hungarian Puli, wasn’t there to nudge his hand or bark impatiently for another toss. The silence felt heavier than it should.
Mark had always been a man of code and grand visions, building digital worlds at Meta that connected billions. But Beast? Beast was his anchor to something simpler. Since 2011, that scruffy dog had been a constant—trotting through the Palo Alto house, curling up beside Priscilla during late-night coding sessions, or stealing the show in family photos with his soulful eyes. Mark remembered the day they brought him home, a wriggling puppy who seemed to know he was part of something big. Beast wasn’t just a pet; he was a quiet confidant, there through the highs of IPOs and the lows of public scrutiny.
Now, sitting alone, Mark traced the ball’s frayed edges. The news hadn’t sunk in at first. Beast had slowed down lately—those boundless sprints replaced by leisurely strolls—but the vet’s call was a gut punch. A sudden illness, too swift to fight. Mark had held Beast’s paw until the end, whispering thanks for years of loyalty. Priscilla and the girls had cried, their tight hugs a reminder of the family Beast had woven together.
He looked skyward, imagining Beast bounding through some celestial field, free from pain. “Enjoy heaven, little guy,” Mark said softly, his voice cracking. “You made us better.” The tennis ball stayed in his hand, a keepsake of a friend who’d taught him that even a tech titan could find joy in a wagging tail. As the stars emerged, Mark smiled faintly, knowing Beast’s spirit was still out there, chasing joy forever.