to his pals – a promiscuous homosexual whose real claim to fame was his inflammatory adolescent correspondence with Anthony Blunt17).
Up until this point the cottage possessed no formal/legal rights as an ‘independent dwelling’. Lady Morrison had – quite naturally – never felt the need to apply for any, and my late wife’s ownership of the property was only ever made explicit by dint of a short caveat in the old lady’s will which forbade the sale of the Manor at any future date without a prior agreement that The Retreat (and its tiny garden) were to remain exclusively in the hands of the Morrison family. Rights of access were, of course, a necessary part of this simple arrangement.
It is, I’m afraid, this worryingly fluid and vague ‘rights of access’ issue that is the source of all our current heartache.
As you will no doubt have already observed on the map provided, The Retreat was actually constructed within a short walking distance of an arched, medieval gate in the outer wall of the larger estate, and this gate has always been used as an entrance/exit (into the village of Burley Cross beyond) by the inhabitants of said dwelling (rather than the main entrance to the Manor, which lies approximately 500 yards – again, see Doc. 1 – to its right18).
It goes without saying that many times over the years my wife(s) and I have applied for some kind of permanent, formal, legal right of way, if only to establish the property as an independent dwelling (so that we might pay rates, raise a mortgage, or even consider selling19 at some future date, perhaps).
Unfortunately, the current owners of the Manor (the Jonty Weiss-Quinns20) have never been keen to support this application. The chief plank in their Crusoe-esque-style raft of objections21 is that the land that lies between The Retreat and the gate was once the site of an old monastery (see Doc. 1 – I have used a pink pencil to shade in the area) which is considered by – among others – the National Trust22 and English Nature to be ‘an important heritage site’.23
Were you to come along – in person – and take a good look at what actually remains of this ‘Old Monastery’, I think you would be astonished (as, indeed, are we24) that so much fuss could be generated by what basically amounts to a scruffy pile of broken stones (approx. three feet in diameter – aka the ‘Old Cloister’) and a slight dip or indentation in the ground (just to the left of the gate) which is apparently all that’s now left of the ‘Old Monk’s Latrine’(!).
As I’m sure you can imagine, Shoshana and I have grown rather depressed and frustrated by this unsatisfactory legal situation, not least because our non-payment of council tax has allowed less sympathetic/imaginative members of the Burley Cross community25 to accuse us of tight-fistedness and a lack of social/fiscal responsibility26. Much of this unnecessary hostility (as you are probably no doubt already fully aware) centres around the disposal/collection of rubbish.
The situation has recently developed to such a pitch of silliness and pettiness27 that the local bin men have been persuaded28 to ignore the black bin bags deposited outside our gate. This means that we are now obliged to skulk around like criminals at dawn on collection day, furtively distributing our bags among those piles belonging to other – marginally more sympathetic – properties in the local vicinity. Worse still, many of these sympathetic individuals – while perfectly happy to help us out – must live in constant terror of incurring the (not inconsiderable) wrath of TP, who has tried her utmost to transform this mundane issue into what she loves to call a ‘point of 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
