I’m not a fan of pointless red tape. If the council ever demands I submit a risk assessment for eating a sandwich, I’ll be the first to revolt. But some rules aren’t about control – they’re about keeping people, animals, and businesses from getting hurt.
Case in point: dog fields.
Right now in the UK, you can buy a patch of land, whack up a fence, and start charging money to ‘keep dogs safe’ without anyone ever checking whether your fence actually does that.
You could, in theory, use creosote treated timber (illegal for use in dog fields – yes your fencing contractor should have known this), run barbed wire or electric fence along your boundaries (illegal in some situations and I’ve seen it in more dog fields than you’d imagine), or leave escape-sized holes in your mesh. And no one would stop you.
NOTE: BDF members – there’s more on that subject coming soon because we know this affects hundreds of dog field owners and it’s more complicated than you might think
Not the council. Not Trading Standards. Not the bloke on Facebook who thinks rules are for ‘sheep’.
When I recently mentioned – quite calmly – that maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea if there were some minimum safety standards for places where vulnerable dogs are running free, I got this reply:
“Another Nazi in the making here. Wants the Government in control of everything. Well Hanna? It’s people like you that see our countries over-run with [?] and by officialdom. Grow the hell up and take your own responsibility FFS.”
Yes, really, that’s the word they chose. Charming, right? I’m sure the author will be thrilled to see their witty parting shot immortalised here – even if they couldn’t spell my name and clearly didn’t have the balls to write what other issues they believe I am responsible for. Unless, of course, that was an act of rebellion too.
(I’ll spare them the public outing but if you’re reading this, you know who you are you absolute Gufflemuppet).
Here’s the thing: I don’t want the government controlling everything. I want dog fields to be safe, reliable, and run by people who actually know what they’re doing. That’s not oppression – that’s basic professionalism.
The Planning Permission Puzzle
As most people reading this will know, dog fields almost always require planning permission.
In all but a few very rare cases, we encourage operators to go down the legitimate route and get the proper consent in place before opening.
But here’s the problem: the planning system is becoming increasingly prohibitive for anyone trying to diversify their land use. Council fees are rising, reports are multiplying, and in some cases, the cost of getting a planning application through is approaching the cost of the project itself.
That’s a rant for another article.
It’s not even that there’s a universal disdain from planning authorities towards dog fields. The real frustration is the sheer inconsistency. In some regions, applications sail through with little more than a scribbled site plan and a cup of tea with the planning officer. In others, operators are hit with a barrage of requests for obscure surveys and costly reports that seem wildly disproportionate to the actual application.
Some planning authorities apply common sense. Others are victims of officious governance and a totally bonkers interpretation of the planning framework.
So while I have huge sympathy for the frustrations of those who’ve navigated the system – and spent the time and money to do so – I also think it’s important to say that not everyone operating without planning permission is a ‘bad guy’.
In some cases, it’s simply near-impossible and financially prohibitive to tackle the bureaucracy, especially when external agencies seem to wield disproportionate influence over an application.
Of course, safety must always be the non-negotiable baseline – particularly in terms of site access. That’s something no one should compromise on, whatever their planning status.
The point here is that when regulation eventually arrives, it won’t just be about whether your fence is the right height, your mesh is regulation standard or your gates are self-closing – it will also be about whether you have the right paperwork. And that’s where things get tricky.
There are a lot of dog fields currently operating without planning permission. Some are genuinely exempt, others have long-established use, but many are simply operating ‘under the radar’.
If future compliance with regulation is tied to having planning permission, we have a real challenge on our hands:
- Do we see the enforced closure of otherwise safe, well-run fields purely on the basis that they haven’t navigated the planning system?
- Do we lobby to create a route for retrospective approval that doesn’t cost the earth?
- Or do we risk a situation where only the most financially resilient operators survive, while safe, accessible community fields disappear overnight? This is the bit that worries me the most. There are farming households that DEPEND on the year-round reliability and cash flow a dog field can offer.
Planning permission is already a huge barrier to entry – and without some common-sense thinking, it could become a barrier to survival when regulation comes in.
British Dog Fields of the Year – Why the National Rounds Are Different
If you’ve followed our British Dog Fields of the Year awards, you’ll know the first rounds are purely a popular vote. People vote for their favourite field in their area, and the top three go through to the next stage.
That’s it.
It’s not a safety audit. It’s not a review of their planning permission. It’s not a fencing inspection.
It’s a popularity contest. And like all popularity contests, it’s shaped by what the public sees and values – not by behind-the-scenes compliance.
That means sometimes, fields that some people consider unsafe or unsuitable end up in first, second, or third place. And yes, that has caused some grumbling.
But here’s why we don’t see that as a bad thing:
- It gives us a rare, bias-free look at what dog field users actually value – without factoring in politics, cost to set up, or the headaches of running one.
- It shows that a strong social media presence does influence popularity – and that can simply be part of running a successful business in 2025. You don’t have to have one (we barely touch ours), but you also can’t get your knickers in a twist when someone who invests heavily in theirs gets a higher profile.
The national rounds, however, are an entirely different beast. We are extremely pernickety about which fields make it through. More than half of the fields that qualified on votes alone have already been excluded – here’s why:
Planning status – If you don’t have planning permission or realistic consent (such as a valid Certificate of Lawfulness), you’re out. We don’t just take an owner’s word for it. Too many believe a casual “you’re fine” from someone – especially if they rent the land – counts as permission. It doesn’t.
Creosote – If your field has creosote-treated posts, you’re excluded. It has been illegal for use in public spaces for over 20 years, regardless of when the posts were installed. Over the past year, we have become better educated on this matter, and it’s now clear we must apply the letter of the law. We know this may frustrate some, but allowing fields with creosote to be honoured in our final assessments would undermine the integrity of the awards — please don’t shoot the messenger.
Specialist standards – Our horticulturists, fencing contractors, behaviour specialists, and veterinary advisors all have a say. That includes subjective elements – but they’re based on professional experience, not personal whim.
This sometimes frustrates people who assume the awards are a blanket endorsement of every field that makes it past the first round. They’re not.
The public vote is a celebration of popularity. The national round is an exercise in standards – even if there’s no official regulation (yet). It’s our way of showing independent dog field operators that there is a benchmark, whether it’s written into law or not.
The Reality of No Regulation
The reality is:
- There are bad actors – People who see desperate dog owners (those with escape artists, nervous rescues, or reactive dogs) as easy money, and skimp on safety because it’s cheaper.
- There are clueless actors – Lovely, well-meaning people who genuinely don’t know you can’t use creosote, that certain trees and vegetation is unsafe, or that installing Kennel Club–spec agility equipment in a public hire field can put canine users at risk – it’s designed for badass trained dogs, not your slightly stoopid cockapoo with ambitions that far exceed their athletic abilities!
- It protects owners too – Clear, industry-wide standards mean you don’t get caught out breaking laws you didn’t know existed, or running a setup that leaves you open to legal or insurance nightmares.
- It stops costly contractor mistakes – If fencing contractors knew what was actually required for a safe dog field, they’d stop making hideously expensive errors on their clients’ behalf.
- It keeps manufacturers honest – Slapping ‘dog field fencing’ on a product shouldn’t automatically make it gospel. Standards keep suppliers from defining the rules to suit their own stock list.
- It helps in planning – Regulation gives planners and ecologists a clear definition of what a dog field is (and isn’t), so we don’t get stupid refusals based on flawed policy interpretation – particularly around vegetation and habitat.
And here’s the scary part: without light, sensible, industry-shaped rules, one major incident could see blanket regulations dumped on us – the kind designed for zoos or maximum-security kennels.
We’re talking Wolf-grade pens with deep-dug predator aprons, 45-degree cranks, and 10-foot fencing, as if we’re trying to contain a pack of serial killers. That’s not proportionate, it’s not affordable, and it would wipe out over half of the dog fields in the UK overnight.
Summary
Dog fields aren’t just another leisure activity – for many owners, they’re the only safe space their dog can run off-lead. That responsibility deserves more than ‘trust me, it’s fine’.
The truth is, freedom without responsibility isn’t freedom – it’s chaos. And chaos is exactly what gets things banned entirely.
So yes, I’ll keep banging on about sensible regulation. Not to ruin anyone’s fun, but to make sure there’s still a safe, thriving dog field industry in ten years’ time – one that works for the good operators, the responsible owners, and, most importantly, the dogs who rely on them.