The poop and the pond

There is a community pond in my neighborhood right in the entrance and there is a man who brings his dog there to poop and doesn't pick it up. I find I am not easily upset by many things, but for whatever reason this makes me so mad.

The other day George, Sammy and I are heading out of the neighborhood to pick up Riley from swimming when I spot him. There is the man with his 100lb black lab heading toward our pond. I turn away from the exit of the neighborhood and head back in to catch him red handed. "Mom, where are we going?"
"Don't worry about it George." I am on a mission to rid this pond of poo.

As I pull up the car my timing is perfect, the dog is mid-squat ears down. I roll down my window, "excuse me, why do you bring your dog to the pond to poo?" I feel like maybe my argument is dampened because I can not say crap because the kids are in the car.
"Because I don't want to pick it up in my yard." The man replies. Just as I suspected!
"Well the people who live here enjoy this pond and I am sure your gigantic dog takes gigantic poos and we don't want to step in it!" I yell back, again feeling a little foolish that the harshest word I can use is poo.
"So call the mayor!" He says as him and his monsterous lab head back towards their house.

I roll my window up feeling satisfied and head toward the exit once again. George quietly chimes in from the back, "uh Mom, did we drive all the way over here just to tell him that?"
"Yes we did George, yes we did."