I have a funny reusing story. My grandparents lived in San Francisco, in the Sunset district, with a dog named Frenchie Fondue. My Pa was always really good about poop scooping long before they made it a law, and he would use an empty Downy fabric softener bottle as a scooper. He would cut out the bottom, and a portion of the same side as the handle of the bottle, and when he walked the dog he put the scooper in a brown paper bag, which was where he'd put the scooped poop.
There was a small market on the next block from their house, which they referred to as the half-and-half store. If my Gramma needed something, she'd send Pa to the half-and-half store. I think she often ran out of half-and-half, hence the nickname. Anyway, one weekend we were staying there and we went with Pa to the half-and-half store, and of course Frenchie came along for the walk. He really couldn't stand to be apart from Pa for even a short while, or he would whine and make my Gramma nervous.
Pa tied him up outside the store and left the poop scooper outside, tucked up in its brown paper bag, with poop in it, and when we came back out someone had stolen it!
How we laughed thinking about what a surprise that thief must have gotten when he got somewhere private to open the brown bag and discover the stolen treasure within.