Tuesday, 1 March 2016

Dingoes v Alan Wilkie by Berenice Walters 1977

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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