It’s funny. I remember all those telly adverts when I was a kid. The Keep Britain Tidy stuff. It certainly stayed with me. I don’t chuck stuff our of my car window, I don’t drop stuff in the street and I would never let my children do it either. Lois is six and already knows exactly what bio-degradable means. So why is it then that every time I walk our little puppy – morning and night – I have to run a gauntlet of grime? Fag packets, half-eaten pastries and sandwiches, chewing gum, plastic pop bottles, crisp packets, dirty tissues and much, much worse. All of which Starbuck thinks is his to play with/eat. (He’s only four months, after all). I spend half the walk fishing stuff out of his mouth and dragging him away from the grass verges. I only walk him round the streets on week days. I don’t live in a particularly grotty area. My house is, however, close to a high school and the simple fact is that there are a minority of pupils who simply don’t give a monkey’s about other people or the environment. It’s not a new problem, I know, but it makes my blood boil. If I had my way I’d collect it all up in a bag and take it to the homes of these selfish oiks and tip it on their bedroom floor to see how they like it.