I used to live with a fellow who was really into dogs, and mushing, you know tobboggans, Iditarod and all of that. Well anyhow, we had 35 Alaskan Huskies living right outside the kitchen window, and every time I opened the fridge, they'd give me a grand concerto AAOOOOOOHH OOH OOH OOOOOOOOHH. It really puzzled me, 'cause they were never inside the house, and they had no fawking idea what I was going to eat. I don't understand why they should react so madly to the sound of the fridge being opened.

They did, of course, react to cooking smells coming out of the window, although not all food was considered howling-material. But I tell you, cooking mutton stew- well that made them go crazy. They'd all but yank their chains right out of the ground. They'd go on for ages in ear-deafening paroxysms of howling and barking.

We lived way out in Bally-way-beyond, and didn't have any neighbours to worry about, but for Christmas Eve, having parents over for a traditional dinner of cured ribs of mutton, pinnekjøtt, well, that was another story altogether. No conversation was possible until the mongrels had had their share.

Magpie