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Smudge and I are taking a walk around the recreation ground. There’s lots of mobile fencing, with signs threatening prosecution and big fines for allowing your dog to foul the rugby pitch, spread about. I don’t think it’s very clear where we’re supposed to walk but I’m not unduly worried: Smudge is only interested in playing ball. A stocky middle-aged bloke springs out from behind the shed where the mowers are stored and yells at me “Get your dog off my field”. Now, I know it isn’t his field. I’m guessing he’s a rugby player and the rugby team rent the pitch off the local council, but the field is definitely public access common. “It’s not your field” I reply. He’s not listening but yelling some more and getting very red in the face “We’re sick of playing in dog shit you bastards have left behind. You’re not allowed on here any more.” I’m trying to stay calm: he looks a bit beefy and I don’t want this to degenerate into a brawl. “My dog hasn’t left any shit on this field today or any other day. We use bags.” And I pull some out of my pocket as evidence. “Yes, you all say that but we’re still playing in shit and we’ve had enough. How would you like it if we came and shit in your house?” I struggle not to laugh at this. I think I’d better try a different tack. “Are you worried about the paedophile ring they’re investigating in North Wales?” He doesn’t understand this: I hoped he wouldn’t, so I continue “I was thinking rugby’s very popular in Wales, so there’s a good chance, if they catch a load of paedophiles, there’s bound to be a rugby player amongst them, isn’t there?” His face is now a twisted mess of confusion and anger “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you calling me a paedophile?” “No, no, not at all. I’m merely saying, if we apply your logic, we only need to establish that there is one law breaker in any identifiable group to justify persecuting all of them. Dog walkers, rugby players, if one is bad, we punish the lot.” He understands now but he’s not giving up just yet “Dog walkers are all the same”. His conviction is wavering. I walk past him and throw Smudge’s ball “You know that’s nonsense.”