I would not call it singing

Even in dire need for speed, you have to slow down for lunch sometime... and in the outback those choices are easy to make... if you are lucky... then only once a 150 to 200 km you will stumble upon a shabby roadhouse that might serve you some kangaroo or emu... we hit a place like that at Stuart Wells, Jims Place.

After we tucked the jeep away at the red dusted parking lot, right behind the emus, we headed for the dusty and rusty door...

... but just about the moment we wanted to turn the door handle... a scary howling sound penetrated the hot dry air and hammered our ears... we stopped... turned around... looked around the side of the building... tried to look through the greasy smudged windows... but we weren't able to determine the origin of that horrendous noise... hunger took over and we daringly opened the door and stepped in...  people were gathered together in a circle around a piano... Uncle Jesse was holding a leash and on the end of it... standing on a piano... howling the most horrendous howl any human has ever heard... an ugly hairy dingo... Dinky... the singing dingo...

... the whole circle was silenced by astonishment and adoration... however... it was sad to see not everyone gave the canine the respect it was due...

Not only can you be a witness to several performances a day... the Dinky merchandise had also taken off..

And while not everyone agrees on whether Dinky has been inbred or not...

... there is not much debate about this one...