Countryside living: when it suits?

The changes in agriculture in the 50 or so years I have been farming are well chronicled; however, less obvious – but just as big – is the change that has occurred in the countryside I live in.

Slowly, but ever so surely, the countryside in general – and the village in particular – has changed beyond belief. People have moved into the area, and it has become largely a retirement home. At one time, most people who lived in the countryside worked in the countryside. Today, more people around here are retired than working.

Mechanisation on farm and in forest has removed many jobs, but little chance exists of local young people being able to compete for housing if the “newcomer” has just sold a house in the south-east, for example.

There was a time when I knew the names of all the children in the village school (and the names of their mothers). There was a time when, if I was driving a tractor through the village and I saw a stranger, I would slow down to have a good stare at them.

These days, I see lots of strangers – they all seem to know each other and are staring at me.

New contention

Exercise is important for older people, and what more pleasant way of doing so than in lovely countryside, taking a dog for a walk twice a day.

Plenty of dogs have always lived around here, but, in the past, would have mostly been working – dogs that had a function, on farm or a shooting field. Lots of country people would earn extra money in winter, beating at shoots.

These days, all sorts of dogs exist everywhere. They all have to be taken for a walk, mostly twice a day, and where better to take them for a walk than in a farmer’s field.

Most fields around here have six-metre margins around them. These margins allow wild flowers to flourish and seed; they allow grasses to go to seed and their seeds are a food source for birds in winter.

They are a haven for wildlife – those interested in conservation call them wildlife corridors and, should you get a six-metre margin – then a hedgerow and six-metre margin in the adjoining field, as you often do – that is quite a big chunk of countryside given back to nature.

We get paid for leaving six-metre margins – I wouldn’t pretend otherwise – but everyone seems to like them. That’s only good, public good for public money, so that’s a win-win.

But it’s not. A six-metre margin is an excellent place to take your dog for a walk – especially if your margin is close to the village. I know people are not supposed to take dogs into fields without footpaths in them, but they do, and trying to stop them is very similar to trying to stop the tide coming in.

Another thing they are not supposed to do is to let those dogs off the lead, but they do. They know full well if they let the dog off the lead, it will run 10 miles, but the owner only has to travel 1 mile.

Irony

I never seem to have to look far for an irony, and here’s one. We have a considerable percentage of the local population that are still fit and articulate, with time on their hands and very little to do – dangerous combination. They look about them for interest and something that brings purpose to their lives, and what is all about them? The countryside.

When they first “escaped to the countryside”, they had firm views as to what it was like. They thought it was designed by Enid Blyton (look her up) and packaged by Mothercare.

They like to eat chicken – they probably eat chicken twice a week. They can’t see them, but they know they are inside those big sheds they don’t like. If the chickens are free range, they like that – they then put them into the same category as all other farm animals, and like to see them about.

But two things they don’t like about farm animals are the noise that comes out of one end – especially if it’s a cock crowing before 9am – and the defecation that comes out of the other end (defecation is not a word we use a lot on this farm – we use a shorter word that is easier to spell).

If the farmer should choose to move this faeces about with tractor and trailer, they really don’t like that. Spreading it on fields leads to consternation and petitions to parish councils.

They don’t like any farm vehicles as they bring with them dust or mud, according to the season. They like to see the fields change colour as the corn fields ripen, but they don’t like getting stuck behind a combine.

Repercussions

And here comes the irony. Although they pay lip service to supporting the environment – and wildlife in particular – they give no thought to the possibility that a dog on a six-metre margin will terrorise any wildlife that seeks refuge there. Dogs running loose will eat the eggs and young of ground nesting birds, and also eat leverets and disturb hares. Public money has gone into creating these wildlife havens. What sort of haven is it if, every hour, the wildlife is confronted by a retried greyhound, yapping terrier or fashionable crossbreed?

But something else exists that the dogs could bring to the fields – Neospora. You probably know more about it than me. I know it is spread by dog parasites, causes abortion in cattle, is the very devil to treat and get rid of, and our milk has started testing positive for it. If I need to know any more, I ask Dominique of Stapeley Veterinary Practice, which we use. She is the shining star among the galaxy of vets I know.

Neospora is an escalating problem. I’m not anti-dogs – we have four. All I ask is they are wormed regularly.

The activity that brings the most dogs on to the fields we farm is shooting. I shall email the various shoots soon and ask them to ask those who bring dogs to worm them in a timely fashion. It’s down to trust whether they will, but Neospora and the problems it brings needs a higher profile.