Like his famous father Glen Campbell, Dillon Campbell is asinger-songwriter. He may beonly 22 – his 1985 Martin acoustic guitar is older than he is! -but already he’s played over 200 gigs, at venues ranging from the Whiskey in Los Angeles (where he lives) to Piano’s in New York.
Dillon is rapidly developing a loyal following at his live gigs and on Facebook. But perhaps his most devoted fan is his two-year-old Chihuahua, Musashi Miyamoto, a feisty, friendly fellow who enjoys nothing so much as watching his favorite human work on songs at home.
“I sometimes play in the living room, and he sits there, closes his eyes, and lies down,” explains Dillon. Other times, Musashi Miyamoto chimes in.
“I’ve got a three-prong xylophone,” Dillon explains. “I’ll hit it, and he’ll start trying to match my pitch! He tries to hit three separate notes. Fire trucks have the same pitch,” Dillon says,so naturally his very vocalChihuahua sings duets with them too.
Dillon grew uparound music and pets – hisanimal-lovingMomhad 14 rescued cats plus an Akita, a German Shepherd, a Springer Spaniel, a West Highland White terrier, and a black lab – so it was perhaps inevitable that he’d wind up as a professionalmusician with afour-footed sidekick or two. (Incidentally, he also lives with a cat, a rescued Tortie named Bonnie.)
As befits a rocker’s dog, Musashi Miyamoto wears a black leather studded collar and goes out for walks on a leash adorned with skulls. Dillon, on the other hand, wears red suede shoes, an update on Carl Perkins’ signature blue suede style statement.
But this little dog didn’t always live so large. “He was skin-and-bones when we first got him,” recalls Dillon, who boldly – and permanently – repossessed the dog from the friends who used to own him while they were out of town. “Theyleft him for three days in an un-air-conditioned apartment where the temperature was up to 112,” he says, still amazed atsuch callousness.So Dillon intervened, and now the little dog belongs to him.
Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that Dillon belongs to the little dog. Like most clever canines, Musashi Miyamoto (he came pre-named) proved he’s pretty adept attrading up in the lifestyle department. Now, instead of suffering routineneglect, he’s the pampered apple of his dad’s eye, calmly sitting in Dillon’s lap throughout our interview, his mouth curled into a happy smile.
“He sleeps under the covers, on my chest,” Dillon confides.
But he’s not so calm when another dog passes by. In fact, he’s an imposingdog in a compact package. “He tries to take on really big dogs,” Dillon says.
So, will Musashi Miyamoto be accompanying his favorite musician when he hits the road for a tour next month (stopping in San Diego, Santa Barbara, Orange County, and Malibu)?
“No, I’m going to have someone watch him,” Dillon says. So far, he hasn’t been inspired to write a song for his dog, as some musicians have. But just to be sureMusashi Miyamotowon’t miss his master’s voice -or perhaps to prevent him from over-developing his repertoire of fire-truck duets –Dillon is making acompilation CD to keep his dogcompany.
On it will be “Absence of Lies,” from Dillon’sforthcoming album “Journal for the Brokenhearted,” and another track called”The Fall.”Why those songs in particular? “I think he’ll just like those two the best!” Dillon concludes.
