Pepper Greenbird (get it?) found his family at the ripe old age of 21. He immediately bonded to Greenberg-the-elder (see HERE), probably due to their shared paranoid worldview and tendency to bite people they don’t know. Pepper thought the world was just okay, until he discovered live music. He now expresses his joy by singing (screaming), and dancing (mostly head-banging) every time he hears the violin. He is partial to Sibelius, Mozart, Bach and Harpeth Rising, and dislikes all that contemporary atonal crap (his words, not mine.)
Recently, Pepper became an international sensation and was included in THIS New York Times compilation video about parrots.
Newton Di Meglio is the little dog in the Big Apple, with a heart of pure gold. He joined the Di Meglio Clan about a year and a half ago, and has since turned the mundane into the insanely joyful. His favorite place to be is perched on his papa Luigi’s shoulders like a big bird, and his second favorite place to be is nestled snugly in his bright red tote carrying bag (what- do you expect him to get dirty by walking in NYC?). He’s very territorial of his big Italian family, and guards them fiercely against squirrels, babies in strollers, and hipsters. You can find him riding around New York City with his grandma Anka, his curious face peeking out of his bright red tote bag, waiting for crumbs and pastrami to fall from the sky.
Roscoe Younger-Sheffield was adopted from the Rochester, NY city pound in May of 2015. He is a goofy, lovable Lhasa-poo with a snarky underbite. He will sit, lie down, roll over, shake (with either paw), and dance (or all of the above in succession) for treats.
- a rope with a knot on either end
- burying rawhide chews in the yard
- everyone's food (but his own)
- watching the x-files
- running in circles
Roscoe doesn't like:
- hockey sticks
Rosie GreenSalad came from a McDonald’s parking lot. She was very hungry, so she ate two happy meals and then threw up. Since then, she only eats really expensive dog food and sleeps on satin sheets. She is the howl conductor, holds the record for longest nap ever taken (all divisions), and is the floppy-eared champion of the world. Loves: Pillows, cold weather, her brother Goose. Dislikes: Being awake for too long, going up stairs, being nudged while in bed.
Goose Greensalad had the wrong name. We had originally titled him “Gus”, after the Lonesome Dove character. But the first night he was home with us, we were bolted upright at the stroke of midnight by the sound of frantic honking. Our impossibly adorable new rescued bagel hound had just discovered his shadowy, moon-lit reflection in the bedroom mirror. Understandably alarmed, he took a deep breath and began to crow, yowl and yodel in an attempt to chase away this mysterious creature. We looked at each other, said “He’s a goose!” and history was made.
“I took the Natchez Trace down to Tupelo, and an old stray dog is what I got to show.” Yes, ladies and gentleman, it’s true. Hobo was found on the Natchez Trace parkway, halfway from Baton Rouge to Nashville. He’s named for the soundtrack playing when we found him: Mary Gauthier’s “Last of the Hobo Kings”. Hobo used to be too skinny. He said “never again.” He redefines love on a daily basis, when he’s not busy eating.
“I think he’s a pretty good dog” the man told me over the phone, describing his 2-year-old mini dachshund, who could not accompany him on his move home to China. We met them in the parking lot of a seasonal costume tent, abandoned and flapping in the late Spring wind. The man opened the door of his car and Udon hopped out and immediately into our truck, without a hint of hesitation. He looked up at me. I snugged him out of his sequenced ‘Juicy Couture’ onesie. “You’re a dog now, buddy,” I told him. We were forever bonded.
We make a nearly herculean effort to eat at interesting local restaurants, between 3 and 7 times per day. (Like Hobbits. Folk music hobbits.) Click on the picture to read, via yelp, about where we stop whilst touring, and please let us know if you try any of these restaurants!