On the street behind mine there is a house where there lives a large husky dog that howls loudly from about 7.30am every morning. I know it's a husky because I can see him (or her) pacing up and down in the paved rear garden of the house from my bedroom window.

On a couple of occasions, having gone to bed and forgotten to set an alarm, I've thought to myself: “Not a problem — the husky will wake me up”. It hasn't backfired yet, but I am looking forward to the day that I have an important appointment first thing, and have to give the excuse: “Sorry I'm late, my husky didn't go off for some reason“.

I have often wondered why the dog makes so much noise at more or less the same time every morning, but come to the conclusion that it's probably just what huskies do. I imagine that huskies are fairly social animals — you never see them arguing when they're pulling a sled together &mdash and so I imagine this particular husky is just putting a “shout out” to other huskies in the area. A one-dog version of the SETI project if you like.

This theory satisfied me for a while, and at least reassured me that the husky wasn't being maltreated in any way, until it occurred to me that I never heard a response to the dog's mournful cries. How lonely it must be, I thought to myself, living in a world where it is convinced that it is the last husky alive.

This morning I had the idea that if I recorded the sound of the husky howling, and played the recording back in response, then my canine friend might be happy to learn that he (I've decided it's a he) is not alone in the world.

This seemed to be to be a great plan and a way to start the week with a selfless gesture of kindness, until I realised that simple human arrogance had caused me to forget the importance matter of content...

How that husky conversation might have gone

— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “Oh my God! Yes, I'm a husky. I'm Dave the Husky. Who are you?”
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “Yes, yes! Over here. I'm a husky. I can hear you. Can you hear me?”
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “What about now? Can you hear me now? I'm barking as loud as I can!”
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “What are you, deaf or something? I'm over here, you dick.”
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “Maybe if you did a bit less barking and a bit more listening...”
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “Oh, I get it. You're mocking me. Well, you know what, fuck you!”
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “That is so puerile. What are you, a puppy? Grow up for fuck's sake!
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”

— “You're such an arsehole. I'm going back in my kennel.
— “Hello! I'm a husky. Any other huskies out there?”