Mayer the long-haired dachshund wants to know what we've brought into Pick. His buddy, a regal-looking standard poodle named Charlie, seems to have the same question. Clint Lunn, who sees to both the shop and the pups, laughs. "You guys got food in that bag?" Actually, it's wine, purchased from Pick's around-the-corner neighbor Brennan's. The dogs are momentarily bummed. We, however, are thrilled to be shopping for fresh flowers at Pick. Today there are anthuriums, lipstick-red Hawaiian flowers with shiny heart-shape leaves. In the refrigerated case are orange Asiatic lilies, brighter than any we've ever seen, and delicate white snapdragons. Business has been brisk, Lunn reports, and he needs to bring out more flowers. He allows us a peek into the storage area, where he's keeping orchids, bamboo and sunflowers as big as dinner plates. "I don't do carnations or baby's breath," Lunn says. "No dyed flowers, none of that cheesy stuff." But if Pick is a flower shop for purists (and it is), this sense of purpose in no way undermines its sense of fun. Lunn creates spectacular arrangements; his portfolio showcases everything from the traditional grandeur of wedding-time roses to minimalist groupings of bamboo and protea (plump, gorgeous, artichoke-shape flowers). Shipments arrive weekly from Hawaii, Thailand, California and South America, which means Pick is never the same place twice. What does remain constant are the excellent prices, the wide array of funky vases and votive holders, and the lovely local art. Oh, and Mayer and Charlie, who ask that maybe, just maybe, you bring them a snack.