With the onset of the rain the
Dingoes have been in fine voice. The weather forecast was for a dry day, no
change in sight, reaching 27 temp.
We knew differently. Three times during
the morning the Dingoes had conglomerated in happy groups to howl; voices
relaxed, sociable, tails high and wagging. (Sometimes I join them and am
greeted with expressions of pleasure, their ears back, heads high, smiling their
welcome.) On this particular day it was raining by mid afternoon.
How I love these happy groups of
friends. Their acceptance of me fills me with the greatest happiness and
humility. I feel a complete person.
At the approach of the breeding season
the howling takes on a new dimension. It is excited and challenging, the males no doubt sure in their quest of
a mate, the females confident in the knowledge of their
forthcoming attraction.
Nothing could be more sad and soulful nor weirdly spine chilling than the howl of the lonely
Dingo, the Dingo deprived of his own kind without the close companionship of
his owner. The Dingo needs a close and understanding relationship with his
loved ones. He must be a member of the family; not a pet.
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