Monday, April 27, 2009
ALL 4x4s BA-A-A-A-D, ALL OTHER OLD CARS G-O-O-O-D?
In the April 20-26 issue of The Big Issue, which we like to buy whenever we're in the city centre, there was an article on the rudeness (or at least lack of good manners and common courtesy) of a woman driving a Land Rover Discovery III to the writer of the article. Apparently, she pulled up alongside him in his home street (possibly while he was standing next to his "old Volvo" and, powering down her window without a greeting or an 'Excuse me, could you help me, please?' bluntly asked him if he knew where such-and-such a street was located. He did of course, but in the face of such perceived arrogance, said that he did not. He observed that he sort of wished he had said he did know and directed her to a dodgier street in the neighbourhood, where she may well have been relieved of her vehicle. She drove off without a farewell or thanks.
If you drive a 4x4 you're kind of used to being a bit of a pariah, unless you live in a rural area. Mind you, I was driving our own Disco (sedately - reduces fuel consumption and allows you more time to admire the scenery) down a narrow lane near North Walsham when a woman came sweeping towards me in a blue Mazda MX5 or similar. Not having driven this road many times, I wasn't sure where all the passing places were and I did not see her very low vehicle as early as she must have seen my quite tall one. We therefore arrived at a point in the road where I had to veer somewhat to the left to give her passing room and as she did so I could tell, from the look on her face and without being a lip-reading expert, that she was snarling something like: "F*&%$ing four wheel drive w*#@%r!" as she breezed past.
Given that it was quite hard to determine who should have given way to whom, if only out of 'courtesy' I thought her reaction a little harsh, especially right out in the countryside!
Anyway, all the above is just to put into context a balancing letter to The Big Issue I thought I should write, the text of which is below. I have added the odd thought that has occurred to me since, but essentially it's as-sent.
*********************************************************
As both a reasonably regular reader of The Big Issue and the owner of a Land Rover Discovery (albeit an eight-year old Discovery II, not the latest version III featured in Phil Robinson's article under 'Spam - world wide weirdness' in the issue of April 20-26), I find myself unable to resist making some observations on Phil's comments.
Firstly: I agree; the driver of the Disco in question was extremely and inexcusably rude, regardless of which model of car she was driving. It is almost certainly unnecessary to own and drive a 4x4 if you live in a city but, thanks to an accident of economics (collapse of the housing market), we too currently find ourselves living in a city and owning a 4x4, even if we do our best to get out of it whenever possible (the city, that is, not the 4x4).
Secondly: it is quite possible that Phil's "old Volvo" emits more CO2 than a brand new Disco. It almost certainly emits more unburnt heavy hydrocarbon particulates from engine oil because its piston rings are worn. These are smelly, nasty and probably carcinogenic; it's grim to be stuck behind such a 'smoker'.
Thirdly: most 4x4 drivers are very friendly and helpful and far from being arrogant arses and quite a lot of them use their vehicles for perfectly legitimate purposes, for which no other vehicle will really do. We tow and launch our venerable and heavy motor launch (original cost: 850 quid, in case you're about to condemn us as Abramovich-alikes) with our Disco, for instance, and I use it to drive up deeply-rutted farm tracks when I go out to do my bit to reduce the 'grey plague' (woodpigeons) that do their best to 'eat the world' and drive up the price of food by making it as scarce as their insatiable appetites can manage.
Fourthly: although a Discovery looks quite large (mostly on account of its height) when placed next to an ordinary car, it is certainly not the largest car in the world by some margin and is no longer than an old Volvo estate. The recent vogue for twin-cab pickup trucks, which have to be amongst the largest and most useless vehicles for the road, at least as an alternative for the estate car, means that there are masses of these daft vehicles around today. And of course you only have to cross the Atlantic to the USA to find supersized vehicles like the Chevrolet Suburban, which makes the Discovery look like a Mini and where even the pickup trucks make those on sale in the UK look like Tonka toys.
I suspect that Phil's problem is as much to do with the psychology of 4x4s and the attitude of their owners, as their environmental impact. For the arrogant woman high up in her Discovery, read woman in full fig, sitting high up on her thoroughbred hunter, looking down at the peasants. It's the "unspeakable in pursuit of the uneatable" all over again, and I suspect that Phil, with his crappy old Volvo, feels like a cross between a peasant and the fox.
The government which, being Labour, is still driven by the imperatives of the politics of envy, for all its capitalism-friendliness of the last ten years, has decided that the Discovery and other 4x4s must be swept away and is legislating like mad to bring this about. As with the fishing industry, however, their net is catching all sorts of creatures that are completely innocent, but which just happen to have unfashionably high CO2 emissions. Some 900,000 cars, including people carriers and quite ordinary saloon cars, which were registered after March 1st 2001, (ours was registered in May 01 - how ironic is that?) now attract a retrospective and iniquitous new level of Vehicle Excise Duty of 400 pounds per annum. This has rendered these vehicles all but worthless and has left secondhand car dealers with huge numbers of unsaleable cars - cars that otherwise have plenty of life left in them.
People (like us) who spend several thousand pounds on an older vehicle, cannot just afford to scrap it because the licensed bandits who run the country suddenly decide it would be a jolly green idea to punish people for decisions they may have made years ago, when the environmental landscape was different. So we will keep our Disco and pay the 400 pounds each year, rather than throw our investment away. A good Disco should be fine for 250,000 miles or more and ours has only done 74,000 - probably less than Phil's faithful steed.
So, Phil, we 4x4 drivers are not all Chelsea Tractor-driving Hoorays charging about the capital yelling 'Sterilise the working classes' (I love that line: some prat used to come out with it in the Admiral Codrington in Chelsea (a hangout of Old Harrovians), where I had the misfortune to work as a barman for a few months when I was out of work in 1981). And I can say 'prat' with authority, as a former (minor) public schoolboy myself, incidentally!
I hope The Big Issue will be brave enough to print this letter, in the interests of balance, but just in case I will put it up on my blog as well.
P.S. My wife, a comprehensive school teacher, agrees!
P.P.S. Our 'green conscience' second car is a six-year-old Smart car.
11/5/09 - P.P.P.S. The Big Issue actually printed my letter, albeit somewhat edited, which did change the meaning in places. But hey, at least they did it, so well done them!
In the April 20-26 issue of The Big Issue, which we like to buy whenever we're in the city centre, there was an article on the rudeness (or at least lack of good manners and common courtesy) of a woman driving a Land Rover Discovery III to the writer of the article. Apparently, she pulled up alongside him in his home street (possibly while he was standing next to his "old Volvo" and, powering down her window without a greeting or an 'Excuse me, could you help me, please?' bluntly asked him if he knew where such-and-such a street was located. He did of course, but in the face of such perceived arrogance, said that he did not. He observed that he sort of wished he had said he did know and directed her to a dodgier street in the neighbourhood, where she may well have been relieved of her vehicle. She drove off without a farewell or thanks.
If you drive a 4x4 you're kind of used to being a bit of a pariah, unless you live in a rural area. Mind you, I was driving our own Disco (sedately - reduces fuel consumption and allows you more time to admire the scenery) down a narrow lane near North Walsham when a woman came sweeping towards me in a blue Mazda MX5 or similar. Not having driven this road many times, I wasn't sure where all the passing places were and I did not see her very low vehicle as early as she must have seen my quite tall one. We therefore arrived at a point in the road where I had to veer somewhat to the left to give her passing room and as she did so I could tell, from the look on her face and without being a lip-reading expert, that she was snarling something like: "F*&%$ing four wheel drive w*#@%r!" as she breezed past.
Given that it was quite hard to determine who should have given way to whom, if only out of 'courtesy' I thought her reaction a little harsh, especially right out in the countryside!
Anyway, all the above is just to put into context a balancing letter to The Big Issue I thought I should write, the text of which is below. I have added the odd thought that has occurred to me since, but essentially it's as-sent.
*********************************************************
As both a reasonably regular reader of The Big Issue and the owner of a Land Rover Discovery (albeit an eight-year old Discovery II, not the latest version III featured in Phil Robinson's article under 'Spam - world wide weirdness' in the issue of April 20-26), I find myself unable to resist making some observations on Phil's comments.
Firstly: I agree; the driver of the Disco in question was extremely and inexcusably rude, regardless of which model of car she was driving. It is almost certainly unnecessary to own and drive a 4x4 if you live in a city but, thanks to an accident of economics (collapse of the housing market), we too currently find ourselves living in a city and owning a 4x4, even if we do our best to get out of it whenever possible (the city, that is, not the 4x4).
Secondly: it is quite possible that Phil's "old Volvo" emits more CO2 than a brand new Disco. It almost certainly emits more unburnt heavy hydrocarbon particulates from engine oil because its piston rings are worn. These are smelly, nasty and probably carcinogenic; it's grim to be stuck behind such a 'smoker'.
Thirdly: most 4x4 drivers are very friendly and helpful and far from being arrogant arses and quite a lot of them use their vehicles for perfectly legitimate purposes, for which no other vehicle will really do. We tow and launch our venerable and heavy motor launch (original cost: 850 quid, in case you're about to condemn us as Abramovich-alikes) with our Disco, for instance, and I use it to drive up deeply-rutted farm tracks when I go out to do my bit to reduce the 'grey plague' (woodpigeons) that do their best to 'eat the world' and drive up the price of food by making it as scarce as their insatiable appetites can manage.
Fourthly: although a Discovery looks quite large (mostly on account of its height) when placed next to an ordinary car, it is certainly not the largest car in the world by some margin and is no longer than an old Volvo estate. The recent vogue for twin-cab pickup trucks, which have to be amongst the largest and most useless vehicles for the road, at least as an alternative for the estate car, means that there are masses of these daft vehicles around today. And of course you only have to cross the Atlantic to the USA to find supersized vehicles like the Chevrolet Suburban, which makes the Discovery look like a Mini and where even the pickup trucks make those on sale in the UK look like Tonka toys.
I suspect that Phil's problem is as much to do with the psychology of 4x4s and the attitude of their owners, as their environmental impact. For the arrogant woman high up in her Discovery, read woman in full fig, sitting high up on her thoroughbred hunter, looking down at the peasants. It's the "unspeakable in pursuit of the uneatable" all over again, and I suspect that Phil, with his crappy old Volvo, feels like a cross between a peasant and the fox.
The government which, being Labour, is still driven by the imperatives of the politics of envy, for all its capitalism-friendliness of the last ten years, has decided that the Discovery and other 4x4s must be swept away and is legislating like mad to bring this about. As with the fishing industry, however, their net is catching all sorts of creatures that are completely innocent, but which just happen to have unfashionably high CO2 emissions. Some 900,000 cars, including people carriers and quite ordinary saloon cars, which were registered after March 1st 2001, (ours was registered in May 01 - how ironic is that?) now attract a retrospective and iniquitous new level of Vehicle Excise Duty of 400 pounds per annum. This has rendered these vehicles all but worthless and has left secondhand car dealers with huge numbers of unsaleable cars - cars that otherwise have plenty of life left in them.
People (like us) who spend several thousand pounds on an older vehicle, cannot just afford to scrap it because the licensed bandits who run the country suddenly decide it would be a jolly green idea to punish people for decisions they may have made years ago, when the environmental landscape was different. So we will keep our Disco and pay the 400 pounds each year, rather than throw our investment away. A good Disco should be fine for 250,000 miles or more and ours has only done 74,000 - probably less than Phil's faithful steed.
So, Phil, we 4x4 drivers are not all Chelsea Tractor-driving Hoorays charging about the capital yelling 'Sterilise the working classes' (I love that line: some prat used to come out with it in the Admiral Codrington in Chelsea (a hangout of Old Harrovians), where I had the misfortune to work as a barman for a few months when I was out of work in 1981). And I can say 'prat' with authority, as a former (minor) public schoolboy myself, incidentally!
I hope The Big Issue will be brave enough to print this letter, in the interests of balance, but just in case I will put it up on my blog as well.
P.S. My wife, a comprehensive school teacher, agrees!
P.P.S. Our 'green conscience' second car is a six-year-old Smart car.
11/5/09 - P.P.P.S. The Big Issue actually printed my letter, albeit somewhat edited, which did change the meaning in places. But hey, at least they did it, so well done them!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
ASSEMBLE THE FIRING SQUAD, COMRADES, IT'S THE SUNDAY TIMES RICH LIST AGAIN
I like the Sunday Times and have been buying and reading it for years, despite the fact that it's published by News International, controlled by a dynasty that apparently isn't entirely familiar with the concept of editorial independence.
The ST has become a chunky purchase, but its £2 cost still strikes me as reasonable, given the fact that it lasts all week. We don't take a daily paper - too expensive and there aren't enough hours in the day to justify it when you can get all the news from the BBC's website during the week, then all the comment, opinion and even entertainment (many thanks, Clarkson and Gill) on Sunday.
So once you've fast-tracked the redundant sections to the recycling bin - Sport (i.e. football), Money (haven't got any), (dis)Appointments (has anyone ever got a job by replying to an ad in this section?) and shaken out all the loose inserts to go the same way, you are left with the makings of a varied, decent and, I like to think, reasonably objective read.
But once a year, a greasy interloper slithers out of the pack and slaps bloatedly and complacently onto the table - The Sunday Times Rich List supplement. Having been to see State of Play on its opening night, which reminds us there used to be (almost) fearless crusading journalists who couldn't be bought at any price, the Rich List sits more comfortably with the image of the prurient, celebrity-obsessed, amoral drones who work for the tabloid press, than a newspaper with a proud heritage of exposing the liars, cheats and thieves who would be our masters, many of whom probably still grace the pages of said supplement.
Until last year, the Sunday Times justified the resources and publication of this paean to an obsession with wealth at any price, by telling us that the people it features are the veritable engine room of any healthy, growing economy.
With the gap between the very rich and the very poor wider than at any time in human history, and after a global economic collapse without parallel for its sheer scope in living memory, this fatuous claim has been exposed as the total load of old trousers it always was. Except we were all too busy trying to get our own snouts in the trough at the time to notice or admit it.
Coinciding with the publication of the Sunday Times Rich List comes the news this week that an awful lot of billionaires have been downgraded to mere multi-millionaires, and this must be as galling for them as it is cheering for pretty well everyone else. Perhaps even in America, where extreme wealth is celebrated as the ultimate realisation of the American Dream, there has been an awakening to the awful price that must be paid by society and indeed whole nations, to make just a few people obscenely wealthy.
I'd quite like to be a bit rich myself - who wouldn't? And I know now that I haven't got what it takes to be a successful entrepreneur, so good luck to them all - if they can get away with it without screwing the rest of us. But plainly that formula hasn't worked and 'light touch' regulation has allowed selfishness and greed to have their way, and what a terrible mess we're in as a result.
What I think those of us who don't exactly resent the rich their success and wealth would like, is rather a lot more taste, discretion and philanthropy on their part and a lot less sucking up and fawning over them by the media we count on to be resolutely independent and fearless in defending our interests against the uglier aspects of unfettered capitalism.
That is the job of The Sunday Times and every time it publishes its loathsome Rich List I wish, oh, how I wish, that it wouldn't.
I like the Sunday Times and have been buying and reading it for years, despite the fact that it's published by News International, controlled by a dynasty that apparently isn't entirely familiar with the concept of editorial independence.
The ST has become a chunky purchase, but its £2 cost still strikes me as reasonable, given the fact that it lasts all week. We don't take a daily paper - too expensive and there aren't enough hours in the day to justify it when you can get all the news from the BBC's website during the week, then all the comment, opinion and even entertainment (many thanks, Clarkson and Gill) on Sunday.
So once you've fast-tracked the redundant sections to the recycling bin - Sport (i.e. football), Money (haven't got any), (dis)Appointments (has anyone ever got a job by replying to an ad in this section?) and shaken out all the loose inserts to go the same way, you are left with the makings of a varied, decent and, I like to think, reasonably objective read.
But once a year, a greasy interloper slithers out of the pack and slaps bloatedly and complacently onto the table - The Sunday Times Rich List supplement. Having been to see State of Play on its opening night, which reminds us there used to be (almost) fearless crusading journalists who couldn't be bought at any price, the Rich List sits more comfortably with the image of the prurient, celebrity-obsessed, amoral drones who work for the tabloid press, than a newspaper with a proud heritage of exposing the liars, cheats and thieves who would be our masters, many of whom probably still grace the pages of said supplement.
Until last year, the Sunday Times justified the resources and publication of this paean to an obsession with wealth at any price, by telling us that the people it features are the veritable engine room of any healthy, growing economy.
With the gap between the very rich and the very poor wider than at any time in human history, and after a global economic collapse without parallel for its sheer scope in living memory, this fatuous claim has been exposed as the total load of old trousers it always was. Except we were all too busy trying to get our own snouts in the trough at the time to notice or admit it.
Coinciding with the publication of the Sunday Times Rich List comes the news this week that an awful lot of billionaires have been downgraded to mere multi-millionaires, and this must be as galling for them as it is cheering for pretty well everyone else. Perhaps even in America, where extreme wealth is celebrated as the ultimate realisation of the American Dream, there has been an awakening to the awful price that must be paid by society and indeed whole nations, to make just a few people obscenely wealthy.
I'd quite like to be a bit rich myself - who wouldn't? And I know now that I haven't got what it takes to be a successful entrepreneur, so good luck to them all - if they can get away with it without screwing the rest of us. But plainly that formula hasn't worked and 'light touch' regulation has allowed selfishness and greed to have their way, and what a terrible mess we're in as a result.
What I think those of us who don't exactly resent the rich their success and wealth would like, is rather a lot more taste, discretion and philanthropy on their part and a lot less sucking up and fawning over them by the media we count on to be resolutely independent and fearless in defending our interests against the uglier aspects of unfettered capitalism.
That is the job of The Sunday Times and every time it publishes its loathsome Rich List I wish, oh, how I wish, that it wouldn't.
Labels: not-so-rich billionaires, Sunday Times Rich List
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
NOT SO INNOCENT
Well, I was more than a little surprised to read on the BBC's website this morning that Innocent, makers of really rather good bottled smoothies, had accepted investment money from big, bad, Coca Cola.
Did their PR people not suggest this might just not be a very good idea for a company that makes such a song and dance about trading ethically and manufacturing responsibly? Or did they think this was some other Coca Cola company - not the one whose manufacturing process reportedly empties Indian aquifers for miles around each bottling plant, or which requires 10 litres of pure, innocent, drinking water to make just one litre of their sugar-laden, teeth-dissolving gloop?
I appreciate you needed money to expand your empire, guys (is that a very 'Innocent' thing to be doing in itself?) but to take it from corporate America? It makes Green & Black's sellout to Cadbury look positively sensible! Somehow I don't think quite so many little old ladies or ditzy young things will be willing to knit mini bobble hats for Innocent bottles next time - not when they can be made for pennies in Indian sweatshops!
One thing's for sure: Coke won't settle for a minority stake in Innocent for very long. Expect to see the founders taking the money and running within a year or two and at least one of them become a new face on Dragon's Den, looking for new 'ethical' investment opportunities. Cynical? Moi?
Well, I was more than a little surprised to read on the BBC's website this morning that Innocent, makers of really rather good bottled smoothies, had accepted investment money from big, bad, Coca Cola.
Did their PR people not suggest this might just not be a very good idea for a company that makes such a song and dance about trading ethically and manufacturing responsibly? Or did they think this was some other Coca Cola company - not the one whose manufacturing process reportedly empties Indian aquifers for miles around each bottling plant, or which requires 10 litres of pure, innocent, drinking water to make just one litre of their sugar-laden, teeth-dissolving gloop?
I appreciate you needed money to expand your empire, guys (is that a very 'Innocent' thing to be doing in itself?) but to take it from corporate America? It makes Green & Black's sellout to Cadbury look positively sensible! Somehow I don't think quite so many little old ladies or ditzy young things will be willing to knit mini bobble hats for Innocent bottles next time - not when they can be made for pennies in Indian sweatshops!
One thing's for sure: Coke won't settle for a minority stake in Innocent for very long. Expect to see the founders taking the money and running within a year or two and at least one of them become a new face on Dragon's Den, looking for new 'ethical' investment opportunities. Cynical? Moi?
Labels: cadbury, coca cola, coke, Green and Black, innocent smoothies
Monday, April 06, 2009
ONLY 313,912 NEW CARS REGISTERED IN THE UK IN MARCH!
Well, when the car industry tells you it's in trouble and the media go on about a veritable slump (their favourite word these days) in car production, you imagine that people have more or less stopped buying cars.
But over 300,000 cars sold in one month, in one country, is still a hell of a lot of new vehicles on the road, whichever way you look at it. Sure, it's well down on the 451,642 sold in March 2008, but I can't even imagine what 313,912 cars would look like. Should we be asking how many cars were scrapped in the same period, to make room for all these new vehicles? If the average length of a car is four metres, which sounds reasonable, that's a bumper-to-bumper queue over 1,255 kilometres or 784 miles long. That's long enough to stretch from Land's End to John O'Groats with a bit over, isn't it? Where do all these cars go?
So is this another drama being turned into a crisis? Car company workers have been losing their jobs and that's not good, but maybe we're just suffering the hangover from a gross worldwide oversupply in car production. It was just about sustainable at the peak of a global economic boom - before speculators decided to get into oil, anyway - but now we can see that there are too many cars chasing too few buyers and probably always would have been if the world hadn't been on some economic Nantucket sleighride for the last few years.
Is this news another example of how the media make things look worse than they are, because bad news sells better than good? I would have classified 'No cars sold in March' as bad news. 'Still a surprisingly large number of cars sold in March, despite everthing' isn't quite in the same category, is it, unless you subscribe to the view that anything other than continuous growth is little short of economic disaster? We all know that we can't keep putting more and more cars on the roads for ever, just as we knew in our heart of hearts that the housing market couldn't keep rising for ever. We seem to be locked into a commitment to permanent growth, which is stimulated by periodic recessions when it starts to flag. As usual, we know that when confidence returns at consumer level, there will be a lot of people only too ready to trade in cars they've hung on to for much longer than usual and so a new golden age of car production and sales will begin. By that time, of course, fewer of those cars may be produced in the UK or elsewhere in the western world and that will be a shame, not least for the people who work in the industry.
This is shaping up to be a very interesting century and not necessarily for all the right reasons. I want to be alive to try and do what I can to help friends and family cope with the turbulent times and changes that must surely be coming, but who can deny the grim reaper when he comes a-calling - and that includes the car industry?
Well, when the car industry tells you it's in trouble and the media go on about a veritable slump (their favourite word these days) in car production, you imagine that people have more or less stopped buying cars.
But over 300,000 cars sold in one month, in one country, is still a hell of a lot of new vehicles on the road, whichever way you look at it. Sure, it's well down on the 451,642 sold in March 2008, but I can't even imagine what 313,912 cars would look like. Should we be asking how many cars were scrapped in the same period, to make room for all these new vehicles? If the average length of a car is four metres, which sounds reasonable, that's a bumper-to-bumper queue over 1,255 kilometres or 784 miles long. That's long enough to stretch from Land's End to John O'Groats with a bit over, isn't it? Where do all these cars go?
So is this another drama being turned into a crisis? Car company workers have been losing their jobs and that's not good, but maybe we're just suffering the hangover from a gross worldwide oversupply in car production. It was just about sustainable at the peak of a global economic boom - before speculators decided to get into oil, anyway - but now we can see that there are too many cars chasing too few buyers and probably always would have been if the world hadn't been on some economic Nantucket sleighride for the last few years.
Is this news another example of how the media make things look worse than they are, because bad news sells better than good? I would have classified 'No cars sold in March' as bad news. 'Still a surprisingly large number of cars sold in March, despite everthing' isn't quite in the same category, is it, unless you subscribe to the view that anything other than continuous growth is little short of economic disaster? We all know that we can't keep putting more and more cars on the roads for ever, just as we knew in our heart of hearts that the housing market couldn't keep rising for ever. We seem to be locked into a commitment to permanent growth, which is stimulated by periodic recessions when it starts to flag. As usual, we know that when confidence returns at consumer level, there will be a lot of people only too ready to trade in cars they've hung on to for much longer than usual and so a new golden age of car production and sales will begin. By that time, of course, fewer of those cars may be produced in the UK or elsewhere in the western world and that will be a shame, not least for the people who work in the industry.
This is shaping up to be a very interesting century and not necessarily for all the right reasons. I want to be alive to try and do what I can to help friends and family cope with the turbulent times and changes that must surely be coming, but who can deny the grim reaper when he comes a-calling - and that includes the car industry?
Labels: boom and bust, car production, car sales
Sunday, April 05, 2009
OUR LITTLE DOG HAS GONE AWAY - JUST FOR NOW, HOPEFULLY
Since we moved to a flat in Norwich in December 2008, our little border terrier, Pepper, has been pining for her lost garden at our house in Essex - see previous post. Pepper loves to lie in the sun, yap a bit at passers-by, try and catch bees and generally please herself between walks. So it came as something of a shock to her when her new home turned out to have no 'outside' and no catflap (I told you she's a small dog) through which to come and go.
We've had Pepper since she was a puppy - bought her from a breeder on a council estate in Bristol. The breeder seemed to be very involved with the hunting scene. There were numerous fox masks on walls, photos of meets etc etc. It turned out that Pepper's father ran with the Exmoor hunt, a pack of deerhounds. And her mother had even been kicked in the face by a horse, poor thing, so her top front teeth were dying. Can't remember how many brothers and sisters Pepper had, but she seemed as playful and friendly as the rest of them and we liked her grizzle and tan colouring, so we chose her.
We were proud of Pepper's strong working and pedigree lineage, but it nearly proved to be her undoing on more than one occasion as she was growing up for, as soon as she was able to go on proper walks, she would head off after deer in Cranborne Chase, yelping her head off. We lost her to deer on several occasions and she would return home many hours later, exhausted and filthy, sometimes in the dark and the rain. One Friday it happened on Salisbury Plain - I was out for a walk with my son Harry and my elder brother and his dog and when we were nearly back at the car, Pepper spotted some deer. The red mist came down and off she hurtled. There is no way a border terrier can catch a deer - or most other animals, come to that, but she would try anyway. We looked for her until it was dark and then headed back to my brother's house. I called my wife and told her what had happened and she joined us. The next day was a Saturday and it rained as only it can on Salisbury Plain. We walked everywhere we thought the wretched dog might be and kept dialling in to our answering machine to see if anyone had found her and tried to call us. But no joy.
On Sunday we set out searching again, still calling the answering machine, still in the rain and then, suddenly, a message was left by a couple living in Netheravon that they had got Pepper.
It turned out that they had actually found her on Friday evening, at the side of the road, but didn't want to leave a message in case we were away. Aaarrrgggh! So we spent two days wandering around Salisbury Plain in the pissing rain for nothing. And all the time, Pepper was cosied up in a house full of large cats, being spoonfed catfood and being totally spoilt. By the time we got to her, she didn't even want to leave - and she hates cats! The guy who found her had even plaited her a temporary lead - which we still have - with a nice little brass caribiner to attach it to her collar. They said they would be delighted to have her to stay anytime we wanted to go away on holiday!
After that episode, we decided some formal training was required. Pepper's a very docile and biddable dog, but the hunting instinct is very strong in her, as you can tell. We started taking her to a Police dog handler who trained dogs in his spare time and he was brilliant. Pepper became much more disciplined - border terriers tend to have a fairly laissez-faire attitude to obedience - and we found taking her for walks and getting her to come back much more successful and pleasurable.
Where we diverged from the dog handler's teaching, however, was his proposal for the aversion therapy Pepper needed to stop her running off after deer - or hares, rabbits etc. - when we wanted her to come back. He proposed a set of metal discs to be thrown to the ground when the dog didn't come back, the sound having been linked in her mind with negative associations. We just knew that metal discs would be no match for the red mist, however, so reluctantly we decided to invest in an electric collar. These remotely-controlled collars tend to provoke strong reactions from animal lovers, since they involve the option of giving the animal an electric shock of variable strength, but similar to an electric fence, for failing to obey. There are others, supposedly more humane, that squirt some citronella at the dog's nose, but again we had little doubt that a whiff of lemon could overcome Pepper's hunting instinct. We are convinced that Pepper's collar saved her life on at least one occasion and it certainly saved us from hours of anxiety and searching. The best thing about the collar is its beep function, which makes a distinctive noise without giving the dog a shock. But when Pepper hears the beep, she heads straight back for us from wherever she is. We know the collar has done its job without damaging Pepper psychologically, because we introduced and used it carefully and because she goes crazy with excitement whenever she hears its buckle rattle, for the rattle means a good long walk. She will also come back to two toots on the whistle - most of the time. And we always reward a successful recall with a small treat.
Most of the time these days, the collar isn't needed, but if we take Pepper for extended walks over several days, with plenty of rabbiting opportunities, gradually the voice recall becomes less and less effective as the power of the red mist returns - once a hunter, always a hunter! Then, another walk wearing the collar restores law and order and it isn't even necessary to beep her - the collar ensures she stays just a little closer and remains more attentive to commands. Did I mention that you don't take Pepper for a walk, you facilitate a hunting opportunity? We have always slightly envied other dog walkers, with their faithful companions trotting along by their sides, or close by, running off to fetch sticks and balls and so on. With Pepper, as soon as you set off, she is gone: working hedgerows, bushes and ditches, flushing everything she can find and giving noisy chase to bunnies. Being small, she is not much more of a threat to rabbits than to deer, unless the rabbits have myxomatosis or a white stick.
Today, my wife has headed off to Dorset with Pepper, who is going to live with my parents-in-law for the time being. She will get two rabbit-intensive walks each day and the chance to lounge about in the sunshine, harass bees and frighten the local cat population. She will love it, but I will miss her funny little ways. She is not a demonstrative dog and spends 90% of her time at home curled up asleep (true hunters don't waste their energy on frivolities like playing, I understand), but we love her and we know she loves us - we are certainly at the centre of her little universe. I hope we can have her back one day when we move out of the 'shoebox' and back into the countryside ourselves. I don't like being cooped up indoors either!
Since we moved to a flat in Norwich in December 2008, our little border terrier, Pepper, has been pining for her lost garden at our house in Essex - see previous post. Pepper loves to lie in the sun, yap a bit at passers-by, try and catch bees and generally please herself between walks. So it came as something of a shock to her when her new home turned out to have no 'outside' and no catflap (I told you she's a small dog) through which to come and go.
We've had Pepper since she was a puppy - bought her from a breeder on a council estate in Bristol. The breeder seemed to be very involved with the hunting scene. There were numerous fox masks on walls, photos of meets etc etc. It turned out that Pepper's father ran with the Exmoor hunt, a pack of deerhounds. And her mother had even been kicked in the face by a horse, poor thing, so her top front teeth were dying. Can't remember how many brothers and sisters Pepper had, but she seemed as playful and friendly as the rest of them and we liked her grizzle and tan colouring, so we chose her.
We were proud of Pepper's strong working and pedigree lineage, but it nearly proved to be her undoing on more than one occasion as she was growing up for, as soon as she was able to go on proper walks, she would head off after deer in Cranborne Chase, yelping her head off. We lost her to deer on several occasions and she would return home many hours later, exhausted and filthy, sometimes in the dark and the rain. One Friday it happened on Salisbury Plain - I was out for a walk with my son Harry and my elder brother and his dog and when we were nearly back at the car, Pepper spotted some deer. The red mist came down and off she hurtled. There is no way a border terrier can catch a deer - or most other animals, come to that, but she would try anyway. We looked for her until it was dark and then headed back to my brother's house. I called my wife and told her what had happened and she joined us. The next day was a Saturday and it rained as only it can on Salisbury Plain. We walked everywhere we thought the wretched dog might be and kept dialling in to our answering machine to see if anyone had found her and tried to call us. But no joy.
On Sunday we set out searching again, still calling the answering machine, still in the rain and then, suddenly, a message was left by a couple living in Netheravon that they had got Pepper.
It turned out that they had actually found her on Friday evening, at the side of the road, but didn't want to leave a message in case we were away. Aaarrrgggh! So we spent two days wandering around Salisbury Plain in the pissing rain for nothing. And all the time, Pepper was cosied up in a house full of large cats, being spoonfed catfood and being totally spoilt. By the time we got to her, she didn't even want to leave - and she hates cats! The guy who found her had even plaited her a temporary lead - which we still have - with a nice little brass caribiner to attach it to her collar. They said they would be delighted to have her to stay anytime we wanted to go away on holiday!
After that episode, we decided some formal training was required. Pepper's a very docile and biddable dog, but the hunting instinct is very strong in her, as you can tell. We started taking her to a Police dog handler who trained dogs in his spare time and he was brilliant. Pepper became much more disciplined - border terriers tend to have a fairly laissez-faire attitude to obedience - and we found taking her for walks and getting her to come back much more successful and pleasurable.
Where we diverged from the dog handler's teaching, however, was his proposal for the aversion therapy Pepper needed to stop her running off after deer - or hares, rabbits etc. - when we wanted her to come back. He proposed a set of metal discs to be thrown to the ground when the dog didn't come back, the sound having been linked in her mind with negative associations. We just knew that metal discs would be no match for the red mist, however, so reluctantly we decided to invest in an electric collar. These remotely-controlled collars tend to provoke strong reactions from animal lovers, since they involve the option of giving the animal an electric shock of variable strength, but similar to an electric fence, for failing to obey. There are others, supposedly more humane, that squirt some citronella at the dog's nose, but again we had little doubt that a whiff of lemon could overcome Pepper's hunting instinct. We are convinced that Pepper's collar saved her life on at least one occasion and it certainly saved us from hours of anxiety and searching. The best thing about the collar is its beep function, which makes a distinctive noise without giving the dog a shock. But when Pepper hears the beep, she heads straight back for us from wherever she is. We know the collar has done its job without damaging Pepper psychologically, because we introduced and used it carefully and because she goes crazy with excitement whenever she hears its buckle rattle, for the rattle means a good long walk. She will also come back to two toots on the whistle - most of the time. And we always reward a successful recall with a small treat.
Most of the time these days, the collar isn't needed, but if we take Pepper for extended walks over several days, with plenty of rabbiting opportunities, gradually the voice recall becomes less and less effective as the power of the red mist returns - once a hunter, always a hunter! Then, another walk wearing the collar restores law and order and it isn't even necessary to beep her - the collar ensures she stays just a little closer and remains more attentive to commands. Did I mention that you don't take Pepper for a walk, you facilitate a hunting opportunity? We have always slightly envied other dog walkers, with their faithful companions trotting along by their sides, or close by, running off to fetch sticks and balls and so on. With Pepper, as soon as you set off, she is gone: working hedgerows, bushes and ditches, flushing everything she can find and giving noisy chase to bunnies. Being small, she is not much more of a threat to rabbits than to deer, unless the rabbits have myxomatosis or a white stick.
Today, my wife has headed off to Dorset with Pepper, who is going to live with my parents-in-law for the time being. She will get two rabbit-intensive walks each day and the chance to lounge about in the sunshine, harass bees and frighten the local cat population. She will love it, but I will miss her funny little ways. She is not a demonstrative dog and spends 90% of her time at home curled up asleep (true hunters don't waste their energy on frivolities like playing, I understand), but we love her and we know she loves us - we are certainly at the centre of her little universe. I hope we can have her back one day when we move out of the 'shoebox' and back into the countryside ourselves. I don't like being cooped up indoors either!
Labels: border terrier, deer, dog obedience, dog walking, lost dog
