Growing up like many Australians, dingo was a dirty word as my family had a relationship to the land although not in the dingo’s territory but a pest is a pest.

Deep down I have always had an attraction toward the dingo more so after the Chamberlain affair at Ayres rock. Living in Victoria it was illegal to own a dingo until the good work of the late Bruce Jacob and a couple of good friends made it possible to own a dingo legally, albeit under a permit which I fully support, as it has many advantages for the dingo.

In the year 2000, just after my last dog had passed over, I consider getting a dingo as a replacement for a new companion. Using the internet and the local library I started my research on the dingo visiting them both many times to reassure myself that it was the correct path to take.

My next step was to visit the dingo farm at Chewton, when arriving at the farm to see all the dingoes roaming free about the area, my heart filled with excitement. Standing at the big green gates to the farm hesitantly, I’m a bit cautious entering properties with a single dog but with a hundred and forty dingoes roaming you can imagine what was going through my head; Bruce was at his house yelling to me the gate was unlocked so I ventured in, as I was walking down the gravel slope to his house a couple of young dingoes came up to see what this strange thing was doing walking in their area.

As I sat and talked with Bruce about the dingoes, my nerves slowly settled and were replaced with amazement and joy only what dingoes can bring, seeing them running about doing their own business and not worrying about anything. As it turned out I was a fortnight to early for the new seasons pups, so I placed an order and waved goodbye.

Fourteen days later at eight o’clock in the morning, arriving back at Bruce’s farm to be greeted by a chorus of a hundred and forty dingoes howling at my approach is something I will never forget. After all the paper work was completed we headed back home to show the rest of the family its new member. Keeping my intention a secret, my family didn’t know what I was doing; walking into the lounge room with a box containing the new arrival, I placed it on the floor and let the pup (cub) out to the words “oh no, anything but a dingo”, my mother wouldn’t talk to me or have anything to do with it. Over the next couple of days this cute little bundle of fluff broke through the barriers and eventually imprinted into her heart.

That was my first experience with Canis lupus dingo, since then I have become involved in trying to help save the species from becoming extinct, many Australians don’t realise how the dingo as a pure species is threatened with extinction and fall into the trap of calling dingoes a wild dog, which to me is a domestic dog run wild and their hybrids that they produce. A pure dingo is not just the DNA it carries but its behaviour, breeding, hunting and family structure. Though I would like to see them in the wild, personally I could not live without my dingoes as a companion at my house and believe people of the right character and nature should be allowed to own them under a permit; this would stop the dingo as becoming a fashion accessory or boost up the esteem of those who drive around in their utes because a dingo is more than that, you and them become one.