A scene from a dogging event
Hello, infranet friends. Recently, my old friend and Cold War adversary, double-agent Boris Norris invited me for a few days’ sojourn in his Gloucestershire cottage, where he has established a reputation as a major local cottager. He always played both sides of the fence. Anyway, while I was there he introduced me to a new form of sport known locally as ‘dogging’. I was later interviewed by BBC farming reporter Wellington Green to whom I gave the following answers:
W.G.: What exactly is Dogging?
ME: It consists of lots of people meeting in country parks for Shakespearean country matters.
W.G. Could you be a bit more specific?
ME: Well, people of an open air and open leg persuasion meet in these open spaces or in bushes and basically leap about in floppy abandon giving full reign to their whims.
W.G. What sort of people do this?
ME: All sorts, all classes, all sexualities. And of course lots of voyeurs and the occasional fox.
W.G. Who were the voyeurs?
ME: Well, the lost and the lonely, and the locals who always seemed to change their walking habits in dogging season.
W.G. How do you define the season?
ME: Outside the frost season, for obvious reasons.
W.G. How significant were the bushes?
ME: Very, for those who wanted semi-privacy and then to leap out and surprise the voyeurs and locals protesting lasciviously.
W.G. But surely lots of other locals protested?
ME: Yes but only on days of dogging activity when they were the most avid and uncomfortable observers.
W.G. What about the police?
ME: Well they used to show up and shine a lot of bright lights to see what was happening. But their liaison oficer DI. S. Respect had various liaison experiences which led him to define the situation as a victimless crime.
W.G. Were any other steps taken against you?
ME:. Yes there were attacks against the bushes including the substitution of soft bushes by a spiky and highly uncomfortable version. It made life hard, at times.
W.G. Did you have any difficult moments dogging?
ME: Yes, initially I misunderstood the activity and took my Lapsang Suchong bitch along and being on heat she was quickly surrounded by dishonourable dogs and only Boris’s high calibre Beretta, kept them at bay. It frightened Bunty but a price worth paying.
W.G. Does one specific incident dominate your memory of your Gloucestershire Dogging?
ME: I have to say that it was a kilt-lifting, follically-challenged bloke with a posh accent getting stuck in with cries of ‘squidgybits for all!’ That set us all on the run.
W.G. Do you intend carrying on the hobby?
ME: Try and stop me, the balm of nature’s breeze on my skin is a stimulus beyond belief. And I believe the dogging movement has international repercussions. Here’s to freedom through dogging and dogs and Al Fresco, my old lover.
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