principle’.
As I’m sure you can now understand more fully, this complex situation re the disposal/collection of our rubbish feeds directly into the severe problems the village is currently experiencing with TP and her borderline obsessive interest in matters surrounding dog fouling.
You mentioned (during our brief exchange after the meeting) that I might benefit from reading the latest pamphlet on this subject published by EnCams: Dog Fouling and the Law: a guide for the public) which your department usually distributes free to interested parties (although due to recent budget cuts you regretted that you had yet to acquire any for general distribution – or even, you confessed, to become better acquainted with the finer details of said document yourself). I didn’t get a chance to tell you at the time that I already possess several copies of this useful booklet (and have – as you will doubtless have already noticed29 – taken the liberty of enclosing one for your own, personal use30).
Among the more fascinating details contained therein are the extraordinary statistics that (p. 2) the UK’s population of approximately 7.4 million dogs produces, on average, around 1,000 tonnes of excrement/day.
Burley Cross (human population: 210; dog population: 33; cat population: 47)31 certainly produces its fair share of the above, but, thanks to a – by and large – very responsible, slightly older32 population, the provision of two special poop-scoop bins within the heart of the village and the wonderful, wide expanses of surrounding heath and moorland lying beyond, the matter had never – until TP’s sudden arrival in our midst33 – become an issue of serious public concern.34
I confess that I have walked35 Shoshana’s pedigree spitz, Samson36, morning and evening, regular as clockwork, for almost five years now37, and during that time have rarely – if ever – had my excursions sullied by the unwelcome apprehension of a superfluity of dog mess. If Samson – in common with most other sensible dogs I know – feels the urge to ‘do his business’, then he is usually more than happy to ‘perform’ some short distance off the path (his modesty happily preserved by delicate fronds of feathery bracken) on the wild expanses of our local moor. Here, dog faeces – along with other animal faeces, including those of the moorland sheep, fox and badger – are able to decompose naturally (usually within – on average – a ten-day period, depending, of course, on the specific climatic conditions). If Samson is ‘caught short’ and needs to ‘go’ in a less convenient location then I automatically pick up his ‘business’ and dispose of it accordingly.
Further to a series of in-depth discussions with a significant number of the dog owners in this village (and its local environs), I think it would be fair to say that the model I follow with Samson is the model that most other reasonable people also adhere to, i.e. the collection of dog mess is only appropriate within an ‘urban/residential’ setting, in public parks (where people are liable to picnic, stroll, relax, and children play) and finally – under very special circumstances – where your animal might be perceived to have ‘despoiled’ a well-used moorland path to the detriment of other walkers’ enjoyment of it (although this last requirement is not legally binding but simply a question of community spirit).
I believe I am correct in saying that all of the above criteria tally perfectly with the procedures formally established by local government, and that – up until TP chanced to throw her very large (very filthy!) spanner into the works – these procedures were generally held to be not only just, but successful, necessary and universally beneficial.
With the arrival of TP, however, this fragile consensus was attacked, savagely mauled and rent asunder.38 TP, as you may well know, owns four large German shepherds and prefers – rather eccentrically – to take them on long walks on the moor in the moonlight (I say ‘them’, although so far as I am aware she only ever walks one dog at any given time39). These four large dogs are usually kept confined inside a concrete ‘compound’40 in the back garden of Hursley End – her dilapidated bungalow on Lamb’s Green.
It was initially – she insists – due to the difficulties she experienced in negotiating/avoiding random dog faeces during these night-time hikes that her bizarre habit of bagging other people’s dogs’ faeces and leaving them deposited on branches, walls and fence posts – apparently as a warning/admonishment to others less responsible than herself – commenced.41 This activity continued for upwards of six months before anyone either commented on it publicly or felt the urge to root out/apprehend the strange individual in our midst who had inexplicably chosen to enact this ‘special service’ on our behalf.42
Given the idiosyncratic nature of the bags employed (TP prefers a small, pink-tinged, transparent bag43 – probably better adapted for household use, i.e. freezing meat44 – instead of the usual, custom-made, matt-black kind45) it was easy, from very early on, to understand that the person bagging up and ‘displaying’ these faeces was not only happy, but almost keen to leave some kind of ‘signature’ behind.
When the bags were eventually identified as belonging to none other than TP (and she was calmly – very sensitively – confronted with her crimes), rather than apologizing, quietly retreating, or putting a summary halt to her bizarre activities, she responded – somewhat perversely – by actively redoubling her poop-gathering efforts! In fact she went still one stage further! She began to present herself in public46 as a wronged party, as a necessary – if chronically undervalued – environmental watchdog, as a doughty, cruelly misunderstood moral crusader, standing alone and defenceless – clutching her trademark, transparent poo-bag to her heaving chest – against the freely defecating heathen marauder!
And it gets worse! She then went on the offensive (see Docs. 3+4 – copies of letters sent to the local press), angrily accusing the general body of responsible dog owners in Burley Cross of actively destroying the picturesque and historic moor by encouraging our animals to ‘evacuate’47 there.
One occasion, in particular, stands out in my mind. I met her – quite by chance – on a sunny afternoon, overburdened by shopping from the village store48. I offered to take her bags for her and during the walk back to her home took some pains to explain to her that there was no actual legal requirement for dog owners to collect their dog’s faeces from the surrounding farm and moorland (The Dogs Fouling of Land Act, 1996). Her reaction to this news was to blush to the roots of her hair, spit out the word ‘justifier!’, roughly snatch her bags from me49 and then quote, at length, like a thing possessed (as if reciting some ancient biblical proverb50) from the (aforementioned) EnCams publication on the subject.51
To return to this useful document for just a moment, in Dog Fouling and the Law, EnCams provide an invaluable ‘profile of a dog fouler’ (p. 4 – when you read it for yourself you will discover that it is an extremely thorough and thought-provoking piece