Nothing made me more furious when my dog still walked the Earth then when I would walk her and have to anticipate some asshole carping at me about her poop. Even though we were required by law to pick up after her, I NEVER did. When I saw people picking up after their dogs, I would sometimes say, "What are you doing? That belongs in the ground, not some landfill, surrounded by plastic. You don't pick up after the deer and the squirrels, do you?" I once had some English douche-bag roll up on me in a gas-guzzling, exhaust-spewing SUV, and then tell me how he feared his children would pick up and handle dog feces. Another time, a cyclist rolled up on my father with a paper bag filled with our dog's poop. These same people had no problem leading wasteful lives, just so long as the waste got taken away by the garbage-men and dumped in some landfill. Nor did they have a problem blasting their mono-crop lawns with fertilizer. The stress of possible confrontations ruined the experience of walking the dog during the day; but I figured picking up the poop would ruin it even more. So I mostly walked her early in the morning or late at night.