Forget nitrous oxide, it’s noxious canines we should be banning

As politicians target antisocial behaviour, Will Gore finds it’s not laughing gas canisters smeared on his shoes

On numerous occasions I’ve had to stop my children ploughing into a pile of mess (Getty/iStock)

With a general election not a million miles away, the two main political parties at Westminster are trying to work out what priorities and policies are most likely to cut through when voters go to the polls, probably some time next year. Local elections this May could offer a glimpse of public feeling, so it’s a good time to test the water.

This week we’ve had ministers promising army camps and barges for asylum seekers, while Labour have trumpeted a hypothetical council tax freeze (for 2023, if they were in power). It’s only two weeks since Jeremy Hunt’s Budget which offered a pensions giveaway to the very wealthy, and since then both Labour and the Tories have been seeking to reset their climate plans. Meanwhile, the Lib Dems have been driving tractors down my local high street to show they mean business too.

We’ve also had the slightly unedifying spectacle of Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer trying to outdo one another in their disapproval of drugs. In the red corner, there’s indignant Keir, outraged about cannabis smoke wafting around; while in the blue corner is Rishi the stickler, affronted by piles of nitrous oxide canisters blocking his way to the swings at the local park. To be fair, he is only little.

This recourse to the age-old debate about how best to tackle antisocial behaviour is the surest sign yet of impending elections. Health, wealth and education are all very well, but what really counts is to get tough on the causes of teenagers causing a mild nuisance.

This annoys me not because I’m a big fan of antisocial behaviour (I’ve had my moments on that score), but because our political big guns are missing the key target. It’s not class dropouts discarding laughing gas canisters we should be worried about, but middle-class dog owners who seem to find it funny to leave their pooches’ poo all over the pavement.

One side of our street is like an assault course, such are the leaps and stretches required to avoid the complex mounds of crap that appear almost every morning, gently steaming

During the pandemic, pet ownership soared in the UK. Between 2019-20 and 2021-22, the proportion of households with an animal rose by 50 per cent, from two-fifths to three-fifths. Puppies seemed particularly popular, and many of them are indeed truly adorable, I’m told.

However, more shih tzus means more doggy do-do. And in my entirely unscientific experience, things have got massively worse in the last six months. One side of our street is like an assault course, such are the leaps and stretches required to avoid the complex mounds of crap that appear almost every morning, gently steaming. On numerous occasions I’ve thrust out an arm or hung onto my children’s hoods to stop them ploughing into a pile of mess. Where’s Ed Davey and his tractor when you need them?

In those halcyon pre-pandemic days, the worst you’d need to worry about was a neatly-bagged turd swinging gently from a tree branch, placed there inexplicably by people who presumably think there really is such a thing as the poo fairy to pick up after them.

But now there seem plenty of jolly owners who just smile benignly, or pretend not to see, when their dear Fido lays a fresh one slap bang in the middle of the footpath. On a recent evening, I spotted a large dog dung in the doorway of the local library, and felt obliged to grab some fruit and veg bags from Tesco in order to dispose of it. At night, I avoid walking on the dark side of the street for fear of sliding into the stinking abyss that lies in wait.

Just as irritating as the endless excrement is the dog who bounds up, barking “playfully”, and leaps at your throat, while their dozy dog-dad shouts from afar that you needn’t worry because they are just being friendly. I doubt they’d feel the same if I ran up to them and scratched my nails down their arms.

There are plenty of good dogs, so there’s no need to @ me, as they say. There are many decent dog owners too. But there are also far too many bad examples, most apparently happy to leave canine faeces at the bottom of my garden steps. If Rishi, Keir or Ed is willing to ban pooch sales, or to imprison for life any dog owner who fails to pick up their pup’s poop, they’ve got my vote – assuming I can get to the polling station without mishap.