DOGS DELIGHT TO BARK AND...WELL...

WATCH WHERE YOU'RE WALKING IN PARIS

      

Emily discovers something new about Paris.

The prevalence of doggy doodoo on its streets was once second only to rude waiters as a cause of complaint by visitors to Paris.  

Permanent residents accepted ordure as a fact of life, developing a form of side-scan radar to spot droppings, and a swivel-and-glide manoeuvre, reminiscent of the tango, to avoid them. I even heard it defended on historical grounds, since dog droppings were once harvested in quantity for use in the tanning of leather, and thus constituted part of France's glorious patrimoine.

           Attempts at eradication over the years have been uniformly unsuccessful. One involved vinyl cut-outs, dog-shaped, glued to the pavement invitingly close to the gutter. I pointed out one such sign to a man whose pooch was depositing a steaming heap just a metre away.

           "But m'sieur," he said, "that animal appears to be a kind of dachshund. And as you can see, my Etienne is a schnauzer. Not the same creature at all."

           In 1982, Jacques Chirac, then Paris mayor, marshalled a team of young motor cyclists who patrolled the city, sucking up droppings with a vacuum cleaner attached to a box behind the seat. Christened le motocrotte - "crotte" - turd - crossed with motocrosse - the scheme cost $15 million a year, made no appreciable progress against the avalanche, and was quietly dropped. (I remember watching a doleful young man washing out his box in the gutter - clearly not what he was hoping for when he saw Marlon Brando in The Wild One.)

           A subsequent administration, in a last desperate throw of the dice, mounted a poster campaign pointing out how people with disabilities were at greater risk of slipping on shit, but images of the blind and handicapped in mid-pratfall, like most attempts to appeal to the Parisians' better nature, bought nothing but derision.

           Technically it's still an offence to foul the pavement, but fines ranging from $35 to $60 are hardly a deterrent, even if the malefactor could be caught...I was going to say "red-handed" but there must be a most appropriate phrase - most judges probably have not one but a pack of hounds at home.

           Paris has mostly given up the fight, encouraged by a decrease in the number and, more significantly, the size of dogs being kept. It used to be nothing to see St. Bernards and Great Danes depositing droppings by the kilo, but such beasts are disappearing in the face of high rents, smaller apartments, more vigilant landlords and, perhaps most important, the cost of meat. I sensed the writing was on the wall - or sidewalk - when, a few years ago, I bumped into Jean-Paul Belmondo exiting Brasserie Lipp with, cradled in each palm, a tiny Yorkshire terrier, head topped with a pink bow.  At least he had the grace to look embarrassed.

           Not all communities have given up the fight. Béziers in the far south-west, unwilling to trust to time and the economy, has just announced a new anti-ordure campaign.  The mayor intends to register every animal using the downtown streets, particularly those near its scenic Allée Paul-Riquet, a major tourist venue.  All owners wishing to walk their dogs there will be required to supply a saliva sample from their animal, and be issued with a "passport".  Any dog mess found on the street will be DNA tested. Should it belong to a registered owner, a fine of $122 can be expected for each offence. Apparently a similar initiative in Valencia, Spain, cut the crap by 90%.

           Well, it might work, I suppose, but I wouldn't invest in PooperScooper shares just yet.  I'm sure the Béziereres, who, like all French people, believe that rules are meant for the obedience of fools but only the guidance of the wise, are even now planning ways around this latest curtailment of their historical right to have things their way.

       As far as I can see, Béziers has only one chance to make its passport system work. Rather than penalising the individual transgressor, they should accumulate each month's harvest, select one dog owner at random, and deliver the whole steaming heap to his or her door. One look at that on the evening news should do the trick.