dudesickle on the bobolink meadow path said unto r. while i was depositing mister's poo in the dust bin, "do you have a leash for the dog?" yes she replied. "could you please put it on?"  uh, yeah. he took a couple steps and explained, "dogs can decimate whole populations of birds." 
at the other end of the meadow, after hearing the story, my ears proverbially venting shrieking white hot air like cartoon steam whistles, we convened with our birder friends and walked through the naturalist gang with bags for collecting golf balls from the driving range burned in the meadow renewal burn. like another gang passing nonchalantly, and the silly school marm said nought, and remained the sole upholder of citified nature, the sole sorry soul to not light at the touch of my mistergolden. 
say nothing, when you can let the crusaders stew in silence, and let the birds, the dogs, the crusaders of natural history be.