As my dogs jumped up and down, I smiled at how excited they were as my husband Reg, then 73, opened the kitchen door.
It was 3.30pm, and Lily, our then nine-year-old rough-coated Jack Russell and Lily’s son Billy, six, licked Reg’s fingers.
Then, in a flash, the dogs bolted out the door.
Living on five acres in the beautiful virgin rainforest of the Whitsundays, Qld, it was our slice of paradise.
Bush turkeys, snakes and goannas often came to visit, so we always checked the backyard and never
