Sunny was a special dog, not that you’d know it if you saw him in his favourite position – stretched out on the doorstep, lapping up the sun’s rays – hence his name. You'd hardly know it, but there was no dog smarter. Lying at the back door, he was docile, letting the world pass him by as if he wasn’t interested – even patrols of British soldiers went by while Sunny remained unperturbed as the whole dog population of upper Andersonstown raised their collective voices like a pack of wolves on a moon-lit night. To Sunny, the city dogs had forgotten their roots, their purpose. The streets weren’t their natural environment; that lay just above the horizon where the green slopes of the Belfast hills rose. Sunny was just waiting for his moment. And as soon as he heard the whistle from his master – future U105 newsreader Colin ‘Bungie’ O’Carroll – signalling the journey to the mountainside, he sprung into life. Dúlra had the pleasure to see Sunny in his element. It was a thing of beauty, like seeing a pedigree horse up close – yet this was no pure-bred dog. Sunny was part greyhound, part sheepdog, a mutt, but those genes had combined to produce a dog with boundless energy and brains which would outfox, well, even a fox.