Read this poem in Mad magazine back when I was in high school. I think it says it all. I do not know why I remember it but I always have: It's true as we've heard wisemen say; That every dog must have his day. In cities though each day we rue; How many dogs have had their doo. The streets are spattered, all through town; With Beagle beige and Boxer brown. On ball fields where boys bat the ball, and on playgrounds where toddlers crawl; Too often what will spoil the view, are spots where Spot has stopped to doo. It's not mans best friend, that's at fault, No! it's his master we must halt; Our neighbor who expects us to, love him and love his doggie doo. Lets have them like good parents toil, At cleaning up their puppies soil; Removing every tell tale clue, or we'll go to the dogs with Doo.