How’d you come to own one of the largest dog breeds on the planet?
Whenever we’d go back to Ireland to visit family, we’d see these giant friggin’ dogs lying around and walking the sidewalks off leashes, freaking out the tourists. We got two in 1999. Since then we’ve never had a deer problem.
They chase deer?
You kidding? They eat them. Deer. Chickens. Wolfhounds helped kill off the wolves in Ireland. My family and I had an old chicken farm, and when we got our wolfhounds, Clancy and Duffy, they ate, like, 30 chickens and 27 gunny hens. That was the end of that. No more chicken farm! Clancy would sneak up on ponies. He’s bigger than they were. He saw a sandwich.
Clancy ate ponies?
Almost. We stopped him. But he’d eat anything. He’s one of the greatest dogs in the world, but dumb as a fucking rock. Loyal. Sweet. Gentle. Great around my kids. But one time he scarfed down the headlights on an ATV. I mean, he ate a beach towel. Just ate it. Gone.
Have they ever attacked strangers?
They’re loyal to me and to my kids, but not to the house. When I’m around, they’re like, “Hey, what’s up? Got a sandwich?” If a stranger walked in, they’d be, “Let me show you where the sandwiches are, so you can get me one.”
Have any other dogs?
We have a rescue dog from New Orleans, a Labradoodle, and a chihuahua named Coco. Don’t tell my daughter, but her mom and I think it’s actually a papillon. We love that thing. Smart as hell. She’s the first small dog I’ve ever had.
You don’t carry around, um, Coco in one of those dog carrier bags, do you?
C’mon. But I do love to walk Coco in New York City. A week ago I’m walking her, and a guy recognizes me and does a double take at my tiny dog. I call him out, “You giving me a look, pal?” He was like, “Uh, no…uh, no, no.” “I think you gave me a fucking look, guy.” He bolted, and Coco started barking like crazy. Hilarious.