Hi. Enzo here.

Yes, that Enzo. The one you’ve probably seen trotting confidently through the neighborhood. I’m one year old, male, and what you might call an Australian Cobber Dog—which, from what I understand, is a term for a reliable friend, mate or close companion.

My family, the Stacks Family (Jon, Jody, Olivia and Chloe) has lived in Hilltop for five years, which in dog years is basically forever. From what I can tell, they chose this neighborhood for the parks, the community, and the local businesses. I personally chose it for the squirrels.

Let me back up.

I didn’t just arrive—I was highly anticipated. There were letters written. Tears were shed. Grown adults cried over the idea of me before I was even born, which honestly feels amazing. I made my grand entrance in the spring, and I’ve been part of the pack ever since.

The name? Enzo. Very fitting! Very European. My family loves Italy, and apparently I’m named after a dog from a book (The Art of Racing in the Rain), though I do get mistaken for being named after Enzo Ferrari. 

Now, let’s talk about my talents.

I sit like a human. Not occasionally. Casually. As if I, too, have emails to answer. I also have an exceptional ability to tilt my head at precisely the right moment, giving the impression that I understand everything being said. I don’t—but the effect is powerful.

I maintain a carefully curated toy collection at home. It’s a rotation system. Squeaky toys are my specialty, but I like to keep things fresh. You never know what mood will present each day.

Athletically, I partake in three main categories:

But the real highlight of my life here? The social scene.

Hilltop is stacked with playful dogs. My regular circle includes Henry, Roo-Ramona, Nelly, and Knox—an active crew, if I may say so. We frequent local parks, engage in highly strategic playdates, and host backyard gatherings that I can only describe as wildly successful. These are the moments. The sprinting, the wrestling, the shared understanding that we are all, in fact, interactive dogs.

At home, I’m known for my companionship. I stay close. I listen (visually, at least). I make sure no one ever feels alone, especially if they’re holding snacks.

So if you see me around the neighborhood—walking, running, or pausing mid-step to stare intensely at a squirrel—feel free to say ”hello.”  I enjoy meeting all dogs and people. I’ll likely tilt my head and pretend I’ve been expecting you.