Dog poop on hikes: I am begging you not to bag it and leave it.

Recently, on a hike with a friend, among towering Douglas fir and western hemlock trees, by a glassy, pebble-rich creek, we saw giant plops of black-bear scat every few hundred yards. We were miles from the trailhead. Among the views, among the bear excrement, was a green bag, on a stump: dog droppings. The poop had been scooped, bagged, and then just … left there.

For the past two years, I’ve worked in conservation and preservation at Arabia Mountain National Heritage Area in Stonecrest, Georgia, which includes 16 parks and green spaces. The No. 1 trash offender I find is plastic bottles, which sadly are as ubiquitous as foliage. But a close second is those plastic dog bags, filled with poop.

I cannot go on a hike or lead a tour in our Heritage Area without seeing at least one—if not several—of them. They’re abandoned by pet owners who either intended (and forgot) to pick up their animal’s bagged waste as they returned from their hike, or have been sold a plastic product with terms like “biodegradable” and “compostable” that suggest their bags of choice are way more Earth-friendly than they are. Or the poop bags are left by people who simply don’t care.

There is a better way: If you’re out in the wild, don’t scoop your dog’s poop. Leave it out there in nature (ideally, after burying it in the ground).

To be clear, I am not completely against the existence of plastic dog poop bags, and their usage in many settings. It’s good that people have been conditioned to pick up after an animal’s droppings in urban areas, rather than just letting their ordure sit there to be easily stepped in. No thank you. If your pet is pooping on or near anything that’s paved, pick it up! That rule extends to busy urban green spaces like New York City’s Central Park. In places where there are tons and tons of people and plenty of trash cans, picking up and tossing dog poop is a necessary part of the social contract.

But in larger parks, preserves, and green spaces—where dogs often poop in the woods, off of the trail—what’s the sense of taking something that will biodegrade in weeks and wrapping it up in something that will take hundreds of years to break down? Yes, the ideal here is that people bag poop and then dispose of it in the trash. But let me tell you what happens in practice: When the nearest trash can is miles—or even a mile away—people do the first step, and forget the crucial second step of taking the bag with them until they find an appropriate place to dispose of it.

It’s a hot debate in the outdoor community regarding pets and their feces: to bag and carry out—or to bury the poop in the ground? The National Park Service and many state parks require the bagging and removal of all animal feces. (The National Park Service even urges dog owners to be “B.A.R.K. rangers,” with the “B” standing for “bag your pet’s waste.” One info sheet advises that, because it may contain pathogens, “dog feces is not a natural fertilizer.”) However, many of these policies are out of step with the terrible toll of single-use plastics, and should be revisited to allow flexibility—as well as work with the reality of human behavior.

My ruling is this: If you’re within 100–200 yards of the trailhead/nature center/parking lot, bag it and take it back to throw away. Beyond that, gross as it may seem, dig a 6-inch hole and bury that shit. This is the same standard for human waste at most campsites, and helps ensure that the poop doesn’t pollute a river. Yes, you’ll need to carry a little shovel (and don’t let your dog go near a water source if you can help it). If you can’t bury it, at least knock it off the trail with a stick. Some might cringe at leaving dog poop in the wild. But environmentally, and socially, the worst possible thing is to bag your animal’s poop only to leave the bagged poop behind. (If you think the park service pays people to clean up this kind of trash, you’re sadly mistaken. Most parks are already severely understaffed and underfunded.)

The ecological argument against “just leave it!” is that bare dog waste in such environments could introduce harmful bacteria, viruses, parasites, and other imbalances. A good point. But I think just plain old dog poop presents a much smaller risk and poses a far smaller footprint than all these single-use plastics, especially when they’re left out in nature. Even when properly disposed of, used poop bags wind up at landfills, breaking down and leaching microplastics. According to a 2022 study, annually we go through more than 415 billion plastic poop bags worldwide. That’s up to 1.23 million tons of plastic! And with pet ownership rising globally, the problem is only piling higher.

Now, I’m definitely not advocating for a free-for-all shit-fest in our outdoors. For folks who have to use plastic bags in cities or are committed to carrying out their dog’s poop on the trail, use plastic if you must. But also consider alternatives to plastic, like Pooch paper, PoopShark paper poop bags, and (perhaps most practical for your own backyard) pooper-scoopers. You can also use newspapers and magazines (just like our grandparents did!), or large leaves, a brilliant natural replacement, even in tandem with produce bags that you already have lying around. One friend’s child would collect their dog’s waste and use it to create fertilizer, though doing that properly involves a few steps. “Good composting destroys pathogens,” an Environmental Protection Agency fact sheet explains.

We could all be a little wiser about our plastic use in parks—and perhaps think more broadly when it comes to what’s “natural.” A dog’s two-day-old turd? Hey, better poop than plastic.