Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, March 17, 1993 TAG: 9303170311
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
THERE'S GOLD IN THEM THERE PILES
She has a dream, Maryann Phillips does."Someday, I'll be able to retire and let some junior assistant do all the dirty work," she says.
It's a cornerstone of the American dream.
But somebody will have to break it to the junior assistant that the dirty work means cleaning up dog poop in strangers' backyards.
Phillips was so inspired by a March 7 newspaper story that she started her own business out of her Buchanan home.
For $20 a month, Doggy Maids will visit your home weekly, scoop up the dog poop in the yard and spirit it away.
When economists predict that our financial future rests on service industries, this is the sort of endeavor they have in mind.
Already, Doggy Maids is in a dogfight for business.
In Roanoke, Kristy is offering identical service for an identical fee. She, too, was moved by what she read in the newspaper.
Kristy doesn't want to share her last name because of the nature of her business - it's bad enough she's offering to scrape dog doo, she says.
"I'm like the Cher or the Madonna of the poop-scooping," she giggled. "No last name."
The women aspire to the success claimed by The Dog Butler, a two-year-old Seattle company that expects to gross $56,000 in the dog-crud trade this fiscal year.
It's ironic that anyone should be worried about dog doo on private land. This is, after all, a city that still allows leashed dogs to poop in broad sidewalk without requiring owners to clean the mess. It's barbaric, though it charms tourists and economic development prospects.
Pooper-scoopers-for-hire practice a simple trade.
"Just go in, scrape it up and haul it away. There's not much more to it," said the Cher of the dog-poop world.
Phillips and Kristy are banking on a clientele more tuned to the aesthetics of suburban living.
"I'm figuring on scooping on Fridays," said Kristy, "so that everybody will have a fresh, clean lawn for mowing on Saturdays."
"I'm aiming for the people who have the money to pay for it. We're not talking about everybody. I've had several calls but they think [the price] is exorbitant," said Phillips. "It might be an elderly woman who doesn't want to bend over, or a young business couple who wants to lay out in the backyard and soak up sun."
Kristy was lured into the poop trade because of the phenomenally low overhead.
"We have a Rottweiler, so we already have the equipment," she said. "We also have a pickup truck - I wouldn't do it if I had to put the stuff on the front seat next to me."
One customer, a working Vintonite whose kids get to the backyard before he does with his scooper, already has nibbled. Negotiations begin soon.
No such luck for Phillips, who blames Doggy Maid's slow start on the blizzard. Dogs prefer to poop on Oriental rugs or linoleum rather than getting their paws wet in snow.
But Phillips has a yen to scrape and a business license..
Kristy's more cautious: "I'll get my license if I get customers."