We have written about the problem here before but in case you missed it Peppy Scott summed it all up rather well in a poem, published by the BBC and published here with permission:

'A Crap Poem'

Doggy bags a-dangling all filled with doggy-do,
Adorning hedgerows, glistening in early morning dew;
Pendulous appendages unnaturally placed
As mobile monuments to our failure to clear waste.

What curious conditioning leads people to dispose
Of rank organic matter where it cannot decompose?
Seal it up in plastic, preserving it as new –
It should have broken down in a century or two…

All hail the wily genius of that commercial mind
Who saw the raw potential in a plastic bag designed
Specifically for keeping canine excrement confined!
Where there’s muck there’s brass – it’s lying in the grass, you’ll find.

So pick it up and bag it up, you know it must be done –
Failure to comply, you’re Public Enemy Number One.
But how are we persuaded that this act is civilised?
Insanitary insanity – yet: ‘Bag it up!’ the cries.

It’s antisocial not to so you must perform this show,
But who – or what – are we saving it for, does anybody know?
On roadsides and by footpaths, at entrances to parks,
These fetid bundled baubles hang like territorial marks:

This area’s where we poo – it’s in bags so please don’t moan.
(We might – or we might not – collect it on our way back home.)
But what is the significance of tying it in trees?
Is there some hidden message? What warning signs are these?

Like voodoo dolls or witches’ tricks, a mad macabre mix;
Sinister suspensions among the living sticks.
Future anthropologists, with horror in their hearts,
Will wonder at the savages who practised such dark arts.