http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/this_britain/article3167759.ece

How Densie Ward served an Asbo warning on her local hunt

After her village was terrorised by a pack of rampaging hounds, and their equally aggressive owners, Denise Ward decided to fight back.

Published: 18 November 2007

The first time it happened was around two years ago, in mid-November. It was a beautiful day and a small group of us had got together in the hamlet. I was chatting to my elderly neighbour when we all heard a terrible noise. It was a bloodcurdling, snarling uproar – as if some wild animals were smashing about in the undergrowth.

A deer came crashing down through all the gardens in the hamlet, pursued by baying hounds. It leapt along the lane past a resident it was too terrified to notice, and back up again into the woods just behind my neighbours' house, where it ran frantically up and down the slope, crashing noisily around with the hounds close behind.

As we stood there helplessly, they caught it. It screamed piteously and we could hear the hounds savaging it in loud and hideous detail. It was horrific. It was so sudden and so violent it was like a car crash. No one knew what to do; we all just stood there.

The next thing we knew, several hounds burst out of the woods into the village. They were frenetic and rampaging around. We've all got pets, and were immediately fearful for them; the hounds were out of control and we didn't know what else they were looking to kill. I'm used to animals – I've got a horse and we work with cows – but these dogs were hunting; they were like something else.

We found out later that the hunt master had lost control of the pack and the hounds had run on to the nature reserve next to our village – an open hill popular with dog-walkers and families where hunting is not allowed.

One of my neighbours managed to catch two of the dogs and tie them up. Shortly afterwards, the hunt people came out in a Land Rover, looking for their dogs. The hunt master was incredibly rude and dismissive; the only reason they even bothered to speak to us was because we had two of their dogs. I tried to explain how dreadful and frightening it had been to hear an animal being killed like that. They had no comprehension of what I was talking about. We told them it was private land, but one of them said, "Tell me who your leader is", as if we were a tribe. The hunt master kept coming closer to me until their face was within an inch of mine, "If you appoint a leader, we'll tell them when we are coming and that way you can put all your animals away." Meanwhile, another hunter was brandishing a horn. I knew at that point we had to be very careful. They didn't even bother discussing the hunting ban; they claim they are trail-hunting (see box), and that's how they get around it. We called the police but they never came. Hunt calls are apparently a low priority.

We wanted to make sure they never came back, so on the advice of a solicitor, 10 householders in the hamlet sent a formal letter to the hunt explicitly forbidding entry on to the land. They didn't respond. It turns out we were wasting our time. A couple of months later, on a peaceful February morning, the whole hound pack exploded into the village. They were in full cry. The noise was terrifying, something you cannot imagine unless you have been close to a pack of baying hounds. We leapt to the window. Twenty to 30 hounds were in the village, streaming up our neighbours' driveway. They milled around the house, spreading over the garden before exploding into action again. It was clear from the noise that they were chasing something and when they got up the slope behind the houses, uproar broke out. This time the cries sounded like a smaller animal, but as a stag then roared in distress, we feared it could again be a deer. Sick with the apprehension that I would find either the remains of a village pet or a mangled deer, I climbed up to look but the hounds had gone and there were only splashes of blood.

Quite a few people I know stay in during the hunt season. There's a man on the Isle of Wight who stays in every Wednesday and Saturday when the hunt is on. His wife and grandson were outside in the back garden and the hound pack – again out of control – came over his hedge. The woman managed to grab the baby just in time. Last season a fox, followed by hounds, came rampaging through a children's Halloween party in a public garden near Taunton. And one woman had her pet terrier skinned alive in front of her face by hounds. Her story was in the news until they offered her compensation, along with a gagging clause. That's a common strategy. There is a strong sense of the old rural hierarchies and power structures going on and people are afraid to speak out. The police don't do anything; they claim the laws are unenforceable. The hunt only has to say it was an accident and that's it.

After the second invasion we decided we needed to do something. Getting a civil-law injunction against hunt trespass, the only legal tool available, is not only expensive (it costs around £10,000), but also difficult to obtain. It was my neighbour who suggested an Anti-Social Behaviour Order (Asbo). It sounds a bit unusual but Asbos are related to repeated, anti-social behaviour. We read the legislation and realised it fitted our case in every way. By massive, concerted effort, the residents of my hamlet managed to get an Asbo warning served on the hunt. This was achieved because we are an articulate group of people demanding protection with the support of our MP. Initially the Asbo officer, a retired policeman, was horrified at the thought of giving an Asbo to the master of the hunt, but he found that we had a "compelling" case and went out on a limb for us. The warning was issued to three hunt masters, so this caused a bit of a ripple locally.

If we have another incident, it will be grounds for instigating a full Asbo, which would go on their record. But their attitude and the fact that they can't control their dogs means we still don't feel totally safe. No one in a hunting area is.

This is especially sad for me, because I love the autumn, and here, with the beech woods, it is especially beautiful. But for me, it is now tainted. The hunts are out several times a week. Even if they don't come here I know they are somewhere – and I know what they are doing. I know the suffering that is being caused and I know that the law in this country is not working. *

Hunts and the law
Why the ban isn't working

The ban on fox-hunting came into force in February 2005, when it was made a criminal offence for groups to hunt a wild mammal with dogs.

The first successful private prosecution under the new law took place this year when Tony Wright, of the Exmoor Foxhounds, was found guilty of hunting a wild mammal with a dog.

However, the Hunting Act 2004 does not stop hunts using two hounds to follow a scent to flush out a fox. Nor is it an offence to then shoot the fox.

These loopholes have been fully exploited by many members of Britain's hunting community, and it is estimated that around 25,000 days of hunting have been carried out by about 300 hunts since the ban.

Some hunts lay artificial trails for their hounds, using a rag soaked with a scent that is dragged ahead by "trail layers", while others have invested in golden eagles and eagle owls to exploit falconry clauses in the Act.

Anti-Social Behaviour Orders (Asbos) can be brought against those involved in hunts. Introduced by the government in 1998, Asbos are made against people who have engaged in anti-social behaviour defined as "conduct which caused or was likely to cause alarm, harassment, or distress to one or more persons". An Asbo warning is the last step before a full Asbo. Breaching an Asbo is a criminal offence.

Robert Verkaik