The dog suddenly gets up from his spot next to the heater and races to the window.  With his paws on the sill, he starts barking at something outside.  I listen carefully.  Between barks I can just hear what sounds like the warbling of a bird.  I’ve never heard that before.  I get up and join the dog.

On the path through the reserve which skirts our property, two teenagers are using their cupped hands to create a whistle, blowing across their thumbs.  They seem to be competing with each other.  With me next to him, the dog has fallen silent, his ears alert and his head cocked at an angle (his ‘what’s going on?’ look).  The whistling is sonorous and surprisingly loud.  The girl seems better at it than the boy, but both are obviously enjoying themselves.

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