KOO woop.

Koo woop.

Koo woop.

Koo woop.

This is the pacific koel’s attempt at attracting a mate, as Euroa residents know too well.

The male bird apparently defies Einstein’s definition of insanity (“doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results”) by winning over the female of the species through this piercing, repetitive call.

Perhaps the female koel (pronounced “kerl”) gives in after being driven to madness.

If only local residents had this option to silence the migratory bird from Papua New Guinea, which has again chosen Euroa as its summer base this year.

Instead, we are hopelessly left asking: “How much longer will it stay?”

Local bird photographer Bill Harris is no help on this question.

“No idea – when it’s fed up with us, I suppose,” he said.

The koel is notoriously rare to see, opting to hide in the treetops, even though it is easy to hear.

Mr Harris has only ever photographed it once, in the Northern Territory.

Euroa’s Verity Scales thinks the fact it is unseen makes the call even more irritating.

This reporter has found a kindred spirit in Ms Scales, whose hatred for the koel appears to be unrestrained.

“We've moved onto the other side of the creek and I can't hear it, and when I go across the bridge, I hear the wretched bird over near the showgrounds,” she said.

“People who haven't heard it before, come to me and say, ‘your bird is near me’.

“I know lots of people who don't like it, and they all call it my bird, which is horrible.”

She said being on the other side of the Seven Creeks, away from the bird, has been “absolute bliss”.

Another observer of the koel, Euroa’s Libby Woodhouse, commented: “That worrisome call is around, but [I’m] yet to actually see the owner.”