We love to think of spring as a time of rebirth when everything should bloom anew. Unfortunately it is also the time for the rebirth of dogshit. Being the owner of a 90 pound Lab, I get nailed by this from two ends.
The first is self-inflicted. I get lazy and so Fido gets to make a couple of quick trips to the back yard for a dump on those cold winter nights. Quite an impressive shit and snow lasagna can build up after a rough winter and 27 different snowfalls.
Then there's the second... The nasty surprises left behind by the dog-walking, sneaky-shitters. Those night walking bastards that strike without mercy or the desire to poop 'n' scoop, their whole modus operandi centered around the covert hit and run.
Ironically, there can be enough dogshit laying around the backyard to make it look like a WW1 battlefield but WHOAAA-NELLY ... But if we discover any signs of foreign turdosity planted in the front yard, we walk around for days muttering to ourselves, waiting for the green light to go postal.
The only really effective method that I can think of for stopping the sneaky-shitter, is to treat one of your street-facing rooms like a clock tower and hide out there, surveying the front lawn like a sniper (naked or not depending on your comfort level), waiting until the offending dog and walker make their presence smelly. Then it's game on. Follow them home then, a la Jim Carrey in the movie Me, Myself and Irene, grab some reading material, drop trow and get some fecal revenge (or if you prefer your revenge served cold, spend the next winter squatting and planting for the next spring’s great reveal).
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