Junk & Disorderly.

 If your last or only experience of Battersea was in the 80s, as mine was, you’ll be thinking of dank corridors, yowling dogs, kennel cough so loud and prevalent it sounded like they were being mustard gassed, just a tragic scene of dog sorrow.

Now, each dog has an individual kennel, they have toys, naturally, they get fed, but there is also a scenter, giving off camomile or cappuccino or lavender, depending on the hour and the prevailing mood. Classic FM plays discreetly over the top, inaudible to the human ear because of all the barking, but apparently popular among the dogs.

There is a condition in Battersea called “happy tail”, where they wag their tails so much that they damage the tip on walls and furniture, then they have to wear a little plaster. I’m not kidding. Outside, there are playruns, with agility walkways and “stump gardens” (collected tree stumps, piled up … just to wee on. Just for some urinating variety. I’m not kidding).

There is a herb garden, where the smells and textures have been specially chosen for dogs to enjoy. Philip Heron – who left a job in the City, became a volunteer for a year and is now operations manager – said: “When you see a tail going out of that door, wagging to a new life, the City is nothing.”

Here’s your happy story of the day (if you forget about the part that says a third of the dogs sent to Battersea get destroyed anyway).