Dog zones? Bah, humbug! It’s the two-legged species that need a short leash! Zones are for parking, you lazy riders!

Speaking for myself and, on behalf of my roaming canine brethren, I think that we are already facing a pretty “ruff” deal from the industrious gauleiters. Let’s face it. You have made a pretty damn fine mess of the planet with your gas-guzzling machines, plastic everything, wasteful habits etc. Grrr-oomph.

Perhaps you should take a leaf from your own book before casting aspersions in our direction. Clean up your broken bottles, discarded cans, chicken bones, plastic bottles, fag ends, fishing lines and disgusting rubber balloon things – and leave us in doggy peace.

In return for our boundless love, devotion, loyalty and security, we are relegated to second-class beings. All we ask is a little freedom to romp, frisk, sniff and play. Just a splash of water, expanse of sand or open green field.

Don’t you realise that your cellphones spew out more junk than our poop – which is at least biodegradable and serves as our calling card, post box and local newspaper, all rolled into one? Of course, we care for our feathered friends but they do have the open skies, the waves, high trees and mountains, while we are often shut behind four walls howling at the moon!

The greatest threat to conservation is the human – standing pompously on its hind legs. And we are supposed to be your best friends? C’mon people, let’s not confuse conservation with deprivation!

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