The Lady Guide to Modern Manners: 29 November
Dear Thomas,
I hesitate to raise an unpleasant subject. Now that the leaves have fallen, something nasty has come to light in the lanes around my home. I refer to poop scoop bags, plastic needless to say, flung by dog owners into the hedgerows. I thought these are supposed to be taken home and disposed of there.
Daphne Piper, Cromer
Dear Daphne,
I don’t think you’re the only person to have encountered this problem. From Devon to Northumberland, I’ve heard rumours of these frightful bags. In one neighbourhood a redoubtable lady of 89 is removing them in person from the byways to her own dustbin.
Poop scoops were ushered in about 15 years ago in a blaze of glory. Many dog owners now automatically ‘tidy’ after their dog – but not enough. The problem is so great that this summer Keep Britain Tidy joined forces with the Dogs Trust and launched a celebrity-led campaign, The Big Scoop (yes! Ben Fogle and Kirstie Allsopp), to stop dogs from besmirching public parks and beauty spots. ‘Bag it, bin it’ is the slogan.
The phenomenon of the disgusting bags is less often mentioned. Dog proprietors are apparently annoyed, in remote country districts, that no ‘dog bin’ is provided. They’re prepared to scoop but won’t take any further responsibility, so naturally they chuck the bag, invariably plastic so not biodegradable, into the long grass or wherever – if ever there was a case of back to square one.
Really, it would be better not to bother with the scooping in the first place, except that it’s an offence to allow your dog to foul public places. It’s also against the law to drop litter.
The prime offenders, I imagine, are townies on excursions to rural parts who are quite helpless away from a full range of council-run facilities. Others, perhaps, are making a protest against the whole ‘Bag it, bin it’ movement.
If in charge of a dog without the correct equipment to remove all evidence of your animal from the scene entirely, for heaven’s sake don’t bag then throw. Idiotic. Better to escort your creature to some godforsaken corner where no one would ever go and hope you, and it, don’t get caught.
But truly, take it away with you until you find a suitable dustbin, unpleasant as it may be. Nobody asked you to have a dog. Otherwise, someone else is going to have to deal with the horric aftermath. If you find one of these bags in your neighbourhood, if you can bear to remove it, the problem, as with graffiti, is less likely to proliferate. Because where one or two have sinned, others will think, ‘They’ve done it. Why shouldn’t I?’
Please send your questions to Thomas.blaikie@lady.co.uk or write to him at The Lady, 39-40 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ER
In ordinary life, people are often condemned for ‘always talking about themselves’. A complete absence of interest in others is never desirable, but in some, vanity is childlike. There is a kind of innocence. Or it’s rather funny.
Last week, I met a well-known doctor who was often on TV in the 1980s. The friend I was with said, ‘My mother loved your TV show…’
‘Oh yes,’ the doc said, ‘it was marvellous, wasn’t it?’
Self-belief might be justified; there’s a glamour and allure. It’s a kind of gift to project your own life for the entertainment of others. Self-importance, based on nothing, the solemn droning bore, is what one dreads: both being one and being near one.
I hesitate to raise an unpleasant subject. Now that the leaves have fallen, something nasty has come to light in the lanes around my home. I refer to poop scoop bags, plastic needless to say, flung by dog owners into the hedgerows. I thought these are supposed to be taken home and disposed of there.
Daphne Piper, Cromer
Dear Daphne,
I don’t think you’re the only person to have encountered this problem. From Devon to Northumberland, I’ve heard rumours of these frightful bags. In one neighbourhood a redoubtable lady of 89 is removing them in person from the byways to her own dustbin.
Poop scoops were ushered in about 15 years ago in a blaze of glory. Many dog owners now automatically ‘tidy’ after their dog – but not enough. The problem is so great that this summer Keep Britain Tidy joined forces with the Dogs Trust and launched a celebrity-led campaign, The Big Scoop (yes! Ben Fogle and Kirstie Allsopp), to stop dogs from besmirching public parks and beauty spots. ‘Bag it, bin it’ is the slogan.
The phenomenon of the disgusting bags is less often mentioned. Dog proprietors are apparently annoyed, in remote country districts, that no ‘dog bin’ is provided. They’re prepared to scoop but won’t take any further responsibility, so naturally they chuck the bag, invariably plastic so not biodegradable, into the long grass or wherever – if ever there was a case of back to square one.
Really, it would be better not to bother with the scooping in the first place, except that it’s an offence to allow your dog to foul public places. It’s also against the law to drop litter.
The prime offenders, I imagine, are townies on excursions to rural parts who are quite helpless away from a full range of council-run facilities. Others, perhaps, are making a protest against the whole ‘Bag it, bin it’ movement.
If in charge of a dog without the correct equipment to remove all evidence of your animal from the scene entirely, for heaven’s sake don’t bag then throw. Idiotic. Better to escort your creature to some godforsaken corner where no one would ever go and hope you, and it, don’t get caught.
But truly, take it away with you until you find a suitable dustbin, unpleasant as it may be. Nobody asked you to have a dog. Otherwise, someone else is going to have to deal with the horric aftermath. If you find one of these bags in your neighbourhood, if you can bear to remove it, the problem, as with graffiti, is less likely to proliferate. Because where one or two have sinned, others will think, ‘They’ve done it. Why shouldn’t I?’
Please send your questions to Thomas.blaikie@lady.co.uk or write to him at The Lady, 39-40 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ER
WHAT TO DO ABOUT… EGOMANIACS
A website, Comment Is Mee, claims to detect the degree of self-centredness in a piece of writing. Well, it counts the number of times ‘I and ‘Me’ are used. So far, poor old Richard Dawkins is one of the worst offenders, but his piece in The Guardian was personal and anecdotal, so how could it not have lots of personal pronouns?In ordinary life, people are often condemned for ‘always talking about themselves’. A complete absence of interest in others is never desirable, but in some, vanity is childlike. There is a kind of innocence. Or it’s rather funny.
Last week, I met a well-known doctor who was often on TV in the 1980s. The friend I was with said, ‘My mother loved your TV show…’
‘Oh yes,’ the doc said, ‘it was marvellous, wasn’t it?’
Self-belief might be justified; there’s a glamour and allure. It’s a kind of gift to project your own life for the entertainment of others. Self-importance, based on nothing, the solemn droning bore, is what one dreads: both being one and being near one.