Hunting the Puppy Poo Phantom Menace – why do dog lovers think it is okay to leave their pooch’s presents in our bins?

A man’s bin is his own crap castle. But for months, our little wheelie bin has been the drop-off station for doggy doo-doo. Now, the hunt is on for this faecal fugitive as we question why dog walkers think it’s okay to leave us their little presents.

Is it okay to drop off your dog’s unmentionables into a stranger’s bin? Or should dog owners discard their pooches deposits with their own refuse? (File picture)

For months now, we have wandered down our driveway for the great weekly Aussie sojourn of collecting our little mate with the red hat after the garbos have done their thankless work.

And every week, we are met with a present at the bottom of our otherwise clean and empty wheelie bin – a neatly-tied bag full of terrier turd that we must house for seven days before our friends in the big truck with noisy brakes again make their pre-dawn visit.

Only for the faecal fugitive to return again. And again.

Now, our brain may be skewed after decades of crime reporting, but this has got to the stage where we have been forced to set up our own strike force to hunt down the bag bandit.

As part of the investigation, codenamed Operation Crap Catcher, we have drawn up a snapshot of the suspect.

There is an argument that bin owners should be thankful that dog owners have taken the time to clean up after their pooch. (File picture: istock image).

A profile of the Puppy Poo Phantom Menace, if you will.

Just as our phantom has been inundating us, we have done likewise on our unsuspecting social media friends.

There is also a counter argument that bins should be only full of refuse deposited from its owners. We blow up when someone throws a garbage bag away in our bin. Why should it be any different when the bag is small and contains dog poo.

Some, quite rightly, have suggested we are just whingers.

Where else should they discard it, they have fairly exclaimed. As the great philosopher George Constanza once noted: “We’re living in a society.”

So, before the hate mail starts from dog lovers, please realise we are - quite literally - talking the proverbial.

However, there are some interesting tidbits we have identified to build our profile from our phantom’s activities.

We love dogs. And we love that most dog owners are responsible members of society. (File picture: istock)

After weeks of these heinous and suspected targeted attacks, they disappeared over the most recent school holidays – could that mean our phantom has school-aged children?

Or, heaven forbid, are they actually teaching our next generation how to be socially responsible?

Although they returned in earnest following Easter, we were poo-free this week.

My girl has mused that could only point to a male phantom – it was raining this week and no man would ever allegedly walk in water.

I shot back that it must be a female – the knot tying had been atrocious at best.

Sexist? Absolutely. But she started it.

The bags used are top-of-the-range stuff, no doubt pointing towards a person with their - ahem - things together and in a pile.

And the unmentionables appear to be from a smaller breed. Well nourished too, if you know what we mean.

Despite so many bins in close proximity - and along a significantly lengthy suburban street - it appears our wheelie is being specifically targeted. (File picture)

But we are still clueless. And not just on the identity of the suspect.

Our thoughts have expanded to the entire dog poo dropping culture of our early morning, puppy walking weirdos.

Why do they always target our wheelie? We live on a long suburban street littered (thank you, meant that too) with dozens of identical bins during rubbish night.

Does their pride and joy love to pick out their favourite spot to relieve themselves?

It was something we noted during another unfortunate episode over a decade ago where we caught a woman, wine glass in one hand and leash in the other, sauntering up to our nature strip with dog in tow so her jack russell could drop one in the dead of night.

Every night. Same spot. Every time.

Just like brushing her teeth before bed, it had become her and her best friend’s nightly habit.

That was until our cunning sting operation literally cast a bright light onto her devious under-the-cover-of-darkness ritual and frightened the - well, you know - out of both her and her Jack.

We never saw her, the pooch or the pooch’s deposits again.

So we get that dogs can find their comfort zones. But we have neighbours just metres away. And our wheelies are sometimes closer.

So why us all the time? Are we being specifically targeted? We firmly believe so.

Our neighbours claim innocence and have reported no similar attacks during our morning chats as we collect the wheelies.

In fact, it is fast becoming somewhat of a community project to unmask the phantom.

And it also brings us back to the criticism we have been forced to endure as we seek advice on that wonderfully energetic and positive society that is social media.

If, as we suspect, that we are first-world whiners with nothing better to talk about – and we should be thankful the phantom is actually picking up their dog’s crap – we still have this question.

If the phantoms of this world are doing us all such a service by discarding the poo from nature strip to bin, why don’t they damn well take it home and place in it their own wheelie for a week of stench?

We are, indeed, living in a society.