|My dad and the dogs|
I went through phases-- sometimes taking the 3 foot long pooper scooper (you don't have to get too close, but jeez is it gaudy and totally noticeable to theoretical high school boys who might drive by), sometimes reverting to plastic bags (inconspicuous, but the proximity to the smell and heat of the freshly pooped poop is pretty gnarly) and sometimes I decided I was too cool to pick it up-- it would compost anyway right?
Once or twice I was caught not picking up the poop-- with a tail hung between my legs I would run home and grab a poop-picking up device and return to the scene of the crime. I grew out of the too-cool phase of life and into the phase of taking responsibility for my own sh*#t-- and that of my dogs. I bet I could get away with a less poop picking up in my life, but I enjoy holding myself accountable better than anyone else can.