THE anti-dog crusaders have been at it again in Penrith — without balance or fairness or, it seems, an appreciation of the fact that things have got better, rather than worse, in town streets.

Heaps are written about heaps — some ranters even claim to have done counts of excrement left by animals — when, in fact, the roads are much cleaner than they used to be.

Some streets were far dirtier when there was a livestock auction mart at the top of Castlegate. Penrith was an agricultural market town.

During sales, vast numbers of cattle and sheep were driven along Ullswater Road, some heading for the town’s abattoir and the rest for a railway despatch point, for dispersal to other parts of the country. Droppings from the animals were unavoidable and considerable.

But Penrithians were much more understanding in those days. Agriculture and the movement of farm animals were vital to the local economy and nobody cringed or protested.

In a sense, people of that era were conditioned to accept some dirt as inevitable.

There IS a problem with anti-social dog owners, but most are much more responsible than they used to be in cleaning up.

A comparatively new figure in keeping down urban dirt is the professional dog walker, who takes animals to remoter places for exercise, well away from shopping areas and residential streets. This is an excellent service, but costly.

Dogs give a sense of affection and serene companionship to households and improve the quality of lonely lives. They should be loved and admired, rather than despised.

MEMORIES OF “THE GRANNY”

Viewing football on TV, some of us admire not just the skills of players, but the sheltered luxury provided for spectators in the Emirates and Reebok stadiums and other top grounds.

At Penrith in years long past, fans watched the “Bonny Blues” from an austere all-wooden construction, popularly known as “The granny”, or grandstand, sited just west of the pitch, so that views across town to the Beacon Pike could also be enjoyed.

The late Jack Varty, in his football notes for the Penrith Observer, urged followers of post-war years to encourage players with the “Beacon roar”, rather than jeer.

The mounting rows of unadorned wooden seats were packed, especially in wet weather, and some of the most hard-to-please spectators were seated there. In fact, one team captain, George Landels, suggested using “The granny” for pre-match shooting-in practice, with outspoken critics as targets!

It may have been plain and simple, even Spartan, but the old wooden stand was vital in drawing Penrithians to watch at a time of great achievement, such as centre forward Charlie Short’s tally of 102 goals in a season and the team’s stunning advance into tougher competition in the Northern League.

The “Beacon roar” was certainly heard in 1948 when the Blues beat Bishop Auckland 2-1 in their first match at a higher level, with Ken Watson and Charlie Short the goal-scorers.

There was a dual-purpose element to “The granny”, which attracted cuddling courting couples, hours after the football crowds had departed. Alas, it was demolished many years ago, when the football pitch was enclosed, creating the present stadium.

READING HABITS

A regular follower of this column, a respected lady who lives in Carlisle, has a fascinating theory about the reading of newspapers, based on her own experience.

She finds she peruses stories on right-hand pages, numbered 3, 5, 7 and so on, much more than those on the left-hand side, as though her eyes follow her hand in turning over. Should advertisers take note of this belief and request space on pages 3, 5, etc. in trying to sell their products?

After all, the location of voluptuous “Page 3 girls” strengthens the view that it is a much-read part of the paper.

The reader’s call led to a frightening thought, for this column always appears on the left side of the Herald, generally page 10. Oh dear!

Alas, it seems people no longer consume the contents of newspapers as avidly as a dear grandmother, who claimed she read every column from front to back — apart from the sport!

VALENTINE VANQUISHED?

With the approach of St. Valentine’s day, old-fashioned romanticism may blossom again — or has that hope finally been extinguished by “Kiss me quick, get ‘em off” tendencies of modern society.

Elegant love letters, spiced with tributes to personal beauty, have been replaced by mass-produced cards, full of sexual overtones and innuendo.

Whatever became of hearts and roses? Or of respect for womanhood?

Sadly, St. Valentine’s Day has been cheapened since the days when the postman’s call on 14th February made hearts beat faster.

A memory lingers of nervous fingers ripping open an envelope to reveal a pretty card.

There was no signature, but the brief message revealed the sender’s identity: “Thanks for taking me on the dodgem cars at the fair. It was great.”

Wonder if she still remembers?