Bag and Bin or Stick and Flick?

Walberswick is a haven for dog walkers and home to canine friends of all shapes and sizes. From the giant Jagger, to the diminutive Bonny, they all enjoy a Dog's Life that even some of us humans covet; beautiful countryside, dog friendly pubs and a regular supply of Bonios from our local Postie. But all dogs have to do what dogs have to do, and the village Dog Poo Fairy can often be seem bringing hands full of poo bags back off the beach that haven't been filled by her own dogs, muttering "Why bag it if you are not going to bin it...?

Bagging and not binning

The press has been full of stories and guidance on what to do since MP Anne Main advocated the stick and flick method during a Westminster debate (click here for the full article). So what to do in Walberswick? Certainly the worst possible offence is to leave it on the sand at the height of holiday season or even bag it and hang it on the fence in the dunes, or in trees! We have an ample supply of bins, provided just for the purpose and plenty of general waste bins too. The bins need to be accessible by the collection lorry, so cannot be in more remote locations. Here are two maps showing where they can be found (West and East of the village):



As for 'stick and flick' this is a much more environmentally friendly method, but not on the beach. Peppy Scott summed it all up rather well in a poem, published by the BBC and published here with permission:

'A Crap Poem'

Doggy bags a-dangling all filled with doggy-do,
Adorning hedgerows, glistening in early morning dew;
Pendulous appendages unnaturally placed
As mobile monuments to our failure to clear waste.

What curious conditioning leads people to dispose
Of rank organic matter where it cannot decompose?
Seal it up in plastic, preserving it as new –
It should have broken down in a century or two…

All hail the wily genius of that commercial mind
Who saw the raw potential in a plastic bag designed
Specifically for keeping canine excrement confined!
Where there’s muck there’s brass – it’s lying in the grass, you’ll find.

So pick it up and bag it up, you know it must be done –
Failure to comply, you’re Public Enemy Number One.
But how are we persuaded that this act is civilised?
Insanitary insanity – yet: ‘Bag it up!’ the cries.

It’s antisocial not to so you must perform this show,
But who – or what – are we saving it for, does anybody know?
On roadsides and by footpaths, at entrances to parks,
These fetid bundled baubles hang like territorial marks:

This area’s where we poo – it’s in bags so please don’t moan.
(We might – or we might not – collect it on our way back home.)
But what is the significance of tying it in trees?
Is there some hidden message? What warning signs are these?

Like voodoo dolls or witches’ tricks, a mad macabre mix;
Sinister suspensions among the living sticks.
Future anthropologists, with horror in their hearts,
Will wonder at the savages who practised such dark arts.


We are sure theat GG would've approved.

By News Ed. on April 3rd, 2017

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