I had a next door neighbor whose dog would poop in my front yard. I mean he'd put down big steamers. They'd open the door to let the guy out and just let him free range poop.
As I was walking from my car to my front door one day, he barked at me from my own yard as they looked on from the porch, as if my yard was his yard. I yelled back and knife-handed the pooch, doing my best alpha, and he jumped back, kinda surprised. I turned my knife hand and yelling at the neighbors and suggested that they be more responsible dog owners (they mumbled something back).
A couple days later there was a big steamer in my front yard yet again. This time I grabbed my little hobby shovel and scooped up the pile, as usual, but instead of disposing it in the drainage pond across the street I flung it onto the neighbors' front walk and porch. I tell you what, people who say flying low levels is the most fun you can have with your pants on, those people have never felt the pure joy of flinging poop.
Epilog: That was the end of the dog problem.