Jan's so-called kennel manager Gawie agreed to give us a tour. We were greeted by a motley group of about two hundred dogs on a plot littered with decomposing chicken carcasses.
Gawie: "There are just the chickens that I throw for them... you can see it's actually from yesterday. And if they don't eat it by about 12, then I take it away..."
Derek: "Why don't you just cut it up and put it in bowls?"
Gawie: "In bowls?"
Cleanliness and hygiene we were soon to learn are not high on Gawie's agenda. But nothing could prepare us for the filth and stench in the trashed house.
Derek: "This is the kitchen - how you can prepare food here I don't know... dogs in the cupboards, the chicken feathers everywhere, faeces."
This is Gawie's bedroom
Derek: "Do you sleep here?"
Gawie: "Yes."
And he's not the only one at home on the sleeping bags.
Derek: "The crap is just trodden into these carpets - just look over here [points]."
And this - believe it or not - is his bathroom:
Derek: "I don't think I've seen anything quite this disgustingly dirty in my life to be honest."
