|
|
Yucko's
In
The
News
March
22,
2000
in
The
St.
Louis
Riverfront
Times
Read
The
Story
Online
Monday,
October
30,
1995
Section:
BUSINESS
PLUS
IT'S
A
DIRTY
JOB,
BUT
YUCKO'S
OWNER
SAYS
BUSINESS
IS
PICKING
UP
By
Jim
Gallagher
Of
the
Post-Dispatch
Staff
Debra
is
a
nice-looking
redhead,
but
she
has
trouble
getting
dates.
She
thinks
her
job
is
the
problem.
"A
guy
looks
at
me
and
he
thinks,
`She's
38
and
she's
not
married
and
she
makes
her
living
picking
up.
.
.
.'
"They
don't
know
if
I'm
eccentric
or
crazy."
Debbie
runs
"Yucko's:
Your
Pooper-Scooper
Service."
The
job
does
not
lend
itself
to
thoughts
of
romance.
Yucko's
will
come
to
your
house
and
clean
up
after
your
dog.
Scoop
in
hand,
Yucko's
has
also
been
known
to
follow
after
pigs,
geese,
pigeons
and
an
occasional
horse.
If
you
went
to
the
Mardi
Gras
parade
in
Soulard
a
couple
of
years
ago,
you
saw
her
in
action.
She
was
the
one
following
the
Clydesdales
with
a
shovel.
Debra
did
not
grow
up
intending
to
run
such
a
service.
She
used
to
help
run
a
boutique.
When
that
job
fizzled,
she
began
looking
for
a
business
she
could
start
with
no
money.
At
a
backyard
barbecue
one
day,
she
began
chatting
about
the
problem
with
friend
Bob
Kemmerling.
inspiration
struck
as
she
gazed
out
over
the
lawn.
"I
said,
`Bob,
everybody
must
have
stepped
in
it
once
in
their
life.
There
has
to
be
a
need.'
"
The
cost
of
entry
was
certainly
low.
Debbie
thought
of
the
corporate
name
while
looking
at
a
baby
diaper.
With
Kemmerling
as
her
partner,
Debra
began
her
marketing
campaign
with
an
ad
in
the
Jewish
Light.
She's
also
tried
ads
on
cable
TV,
the
Ladue
News,
direct
mail
and
gift
certificates.
One
woman
customer
bought
Yucko's
gift
certificates,
attached
them
to
a
framed
picture
of
the
family
dog,
and
gave
it
to
her
husband
for
Christmas.
For
the
fashion
conscious,
there
is
now
a
line
of
Yucko's
T-shirts
and
baseball
caps.
Advertising
is
a
necessity.
Word-of-mouth
doesn't
work
for
a
pooper-scooper
service.
"People
don't
sit
around
at
formal
dinners
talking
about
this
stuff,"
she
said.
The
ads
produce
a
bumper
crop
of
crank
calls.
"They
call
at
midnight
and
say,
`I've
got
an
elephant
in
my
back
yard,'
"
Debbie
said.
One
prankster
called
everyone
he
knew
with
a
beeper
and
left
Yucko's
telephone
number.
Debbie
found
herself
explaining
Yucko's
to
a
flock
of
confused
beeper-holders.
The
ads
also
produce
a
lot
of
legitimate
business.
Debbie
has
developed
a
technique
for
dealing
with
first-time
callers,
who
often
don't
know
what
to
say
to
a
professional
scooper.
"They
go
`uhhh,
uhhhh,'
"
said
Debbie.
"You've
got
to
get
them
laughing,
then
they
talk
up
a
storm.
"They'll
ask,
`How
do
you
charge?'
"
`By
tonnage,'
I'll
say."
Actually,
she
charges
by
the
size
of
the
yard
and
number
of
dogs.
A
typical
yard
costs
about
$15
per
weekly
visit.
Most
of
her
clients
are
affluent
people
in
Ladue,
Clayton
and
south
St.
Louis
County.
They're
too
busy
to
do
the
job
themselves,
said
Debra.
Take
John
Geimer,
owner
of
Geimer's
Jewelry
in
Clayton.
Geimer
brings
his
dog,
Jennifer,
to
work
with
him.
One
day
the
landlord
called
and
said,
"There's
so
much
dog
stuff
out
here,
and
you've
got
the
only
dog."
Geimer
thinks
Jennifer
is
unfairly
maligned
for
the
deeds
of
other
dogs
in
the
neighborhood.
But
to
keep
the
peace,
he
hired
Yucko's.
"It's
great.
It
keeps
everybody
happy,"
he
says.
Debra
is
coy
about
the
number
of
customers
she
serves.
But
business
is
good
enough
that
she
has
hired
one
full-time
helper
and
is
considering
bringing
on
another.
"My
only
problem
is
when
a
dog
dies.
I
lost
two
dogs
in
one
week,"
she
said.
"Then
I
found
a
dog
and
I
started
calling
my
customers.
If
I
can
get
the
dog
in
there,
I
figure
I'll
have
them
for
10
years.
An
injured
to
her
neck
and
made
it
hard
for
her
to
look
down
-
a
requirement
in
the
pooper-scooper
trade.
These
days
she
spend
managing
Yucko's.
Kemmerling
has
since
moved
to
the
Lake
of
the
Ozarks,
where
he's
opened
a
branch
of
Yucko's.
So,
most
of
Yucko's
dirty
work
in
St.
Louis
now
falls
to
Debra
hired
hand,
Marty
Graham.
Graham,
26,
is
a
bearded
guy
who
wears
a
baseball
cap
backward.
He
was
a
construction
worker
before
he
found
Yucko's.
The
job's
a
breeze,
he
says.
"You
just
have
to
watch
where
you
step
and
keep
upwind.
My
boss,
she's
real
cool.
There's
no
boss
standing
over
your
head
telling
you
what
to
do."
He
doesn't
mind
telling
his
friends
what
he
does
for
a
living.
"Some
of
them
don't
believe
me.
Some
guys
get
a
kick
out
of
it."
Besides,
the
pay's
not
bad.
It's
enough
to
help
support
his
wife
and
two
kids.
As
for
Debra,
she
has
dreams
of
grandeur
for
Yucko's.
Publication
Details1995
|
in
entertainment |
 |
 |
Local
odd
jobbers
say
somebody's
got
to
do
it
By
Diane
Toroian
Of
the
Post-Dispatch
01/12/2003
12:00
AM
E-mail:
dtoroian@post-dispatch.com
Phone:
314-340-8343
|
When
it
comes
right
down
to
it,
most
of
us
have
odd
jobs.
Just
look
at
your
wacky
colleagues,
your
eccentric
boss
and
your
fussy
customers.
No
question,
the
curiosity
of
your
9-to-5
life
would
astonish
many
observers.
But
then
there
are
those
St.
Louisans
whose
jobs
take
odd
to
the
next
level.
We
caught
up
with
three
such
workers
-
a
pool
table
doctor,
a
pooper-scooper
and
a
headstone
salesman
-
and
talked
about
their
roots,
the
tricks
of
the
trade
and
why
their
odd
jobs
suit
them.
Occupation:
Pooper-scooper
Business:
Yucko's,
Maryland
Heights
Debra
Levy
knows
folks
think
her
job
is
odd,
but
she's
not
sure
why.
Housekeepers
get
paid
to
wash
floors.
Landscapers
get
paid
to
cut
grass.
So
why
shouldn't
Levy
get
paid
to
collect
doggy
doo?
"This
country
was
born
on
service,
and
I'm
providing
a
service
people
want,"
said
Levy,
mother
to
two
Chihuahuas.
"Think
about
it.
Everybody
has
stepped
in
it
once
in
their
life.
A
lot
of
people
can't
handle
the
gag
factor
or
they
don't
have
the
time
or
they
physically
can't
do
it."
Levy
started
her
pooper-scooper
service,
Yucko's,
12
years
ago.
She
spent
the
first
few
years
in
the
field,
so
to
speak,
before
hiring
a
crew
of
five
so-called
"turd-herders"
to
clean
yards
across
St.
Louis
and
St.
Charles
counties.
She
charges
$15
to
clean
the
average
yard.
Yucko's
also
sells
biodegradable
litter
bags,
pet
signs
and
Yucko's
"Doing
the
Doo"
T-shirts
through
its
Web
site,
www.yuckos.com.
Levy
declines
to
say
how
much
she
makes
or
how
much
she
pays
her
staff.
She
will
say
that
one
employee
-
a
single
mom
with
few
resources
-
was
able
to
buy
a
new
house
on
her
Yucko's
wages
after
a
mere
two
years.
"We
call
it
the
house
that
(doo)
built,"
said
Levy,
with
a
laugh.
Right
now,
Levy
is
busy
organizing
this
week's
national
convention
of
pooper-scoopers
here
in
St.
Louis.
Believe
it
or
not,
these
pros
have
a
lot
to
talk
about
it.
www.apaws.org
"We
want
to
create
a
national
directory
of
scoopers
and
think
of
new
ways
to
build
awareness,"
said
Levy.
"What
we
do
is
not
just
a
cosmetic
thing.
It's
healthier
for
your
dog
and
for
your
children.
Animals
carry
various
parasites
and
diseases."
But
the
convention
promises
plenty
of
laughs
too,
said
Levy.
After
all,
in
this
business,
you
need
a
sense
of
humor.
"I'm
very
excited
about
the
turd-herding
contest.
Part
of
being
a
turd-herder
is
being
able
to
identify
(the
piles)
in
different
lighting,
in
the
leaves,
in
the
snow.
To
us,
it's
like
diamonds
in
the
rough,"
said
Levy.
"People
wonder
how
we
can
stand
it,
but
it
all
smells
like
money
to
me."
On
CNN.com
First-ever
pooper
scooper
powwow
Who
let
the
dogs
out?
Friday,
January
17,
2003
Posted:
10:31
AM
EST
(1531
GMT)
Friday,
January
17,
2003
Posted:
10:31
AM
EST
(1531
GMT)
ST.
LOUIS,
Missouri
(AP)
--
The
folks
who've
made
a
business
of
cleaning
up
what
the
dogs
leave
behind
are
about
to
drop
in
on
St.
Louis
for
a
gathering
all
about
the
scoop
on
poop.
Sound
like
a
waste
of
time?
Not
for
Debbie
Levy
and
others
across
the
country
who
spring
into
action
whenever
doody
calls.
"Smells
like
money
to
me,"
quips
Levy,
the
suburban
St.
Louis
woman
behind
Yucko's
Poop
Scoop'n
Service,
the
home-based
outfit
she
stepped
into
about
a
dozen
years.
"I
look
at
it
as
diamonds
in
the
rough,"
says
Levy,
a
veteran
poop
scooper
in
what
has
emerged
as
a
cottage
industry
complete
with
its
own,
Levy-founded
trade
group
and,
now,
a
convention.
More
than
30
specialists
in
dog
waste
disposal
are
to
converge
here
Friday
through
Sunday
for
the
first-ever
"Powwow
of
Pooper
Scoopers."
The
scoop
There'll
be
guest
speakers,
group
talks
and
networking.
There'll
be
a
field
trip
to
the
American
Kennel
Club's
Museum
of
the
Dog
and
a
stop
at
the
Gateway
Arch.
All
of
it
leads
to
the
main
event:
a
contest
in
which
convention-goers
use
their
tools
of
the
trade
--
everything
from
special
rakes
and
hoes
to
tried-and-true
gloved
hands
--
to
rustle
up
ersatz
excrement.
#1
In
the
No.
#2
business
Most
estimates
say
a
few
hundred
people
make
dealing
with
dogs'
No.
2
their
No.
1
priority.
Such
ventures
dot
America's
landscape,
from
New
York's
Minesweepers
to
New
Jersey's
In
the
Line
of
Dooty
and
California's
On
Doody
and
We
Do
Doo.
If
you
think
it's
easy
money,
don't
hold
your
breath,
Levy
cautions.
While
her
five-employee
Yucko's
is
her
sole
income
source,
the
single
mother
of
a
6-year-old
daughter
warns
that
prospective
Scoopy
Doo-ers
must
handle
marketing,
taxes
and
licensing,
never
mind
the
endless
snickers
and
wisecracks.
"Business
has
been
picking
up"
and
other
puns
have
rolled
off
Levy's
tongue
since
she
opened
shop
in
1990,
after
stepping
onto
something
the
neighbor
dog
left
behind.
Demand
since
has
kept
her
paying
the
bills
through
the
service
that
charges
$15
for
a
once-a-week
visit,
at
least
$25
for
a
stop
at
least
once
a
month.
Her
clientele
has
included
John
Geimer,
who
summoned
Yucko's
after
his
golden
retriever,
Jennifer,
kept
eliminating
outside
his
jewelry
shop.
As
for
cleaning
it
up,
Geimer
says,
"it's
not
that
I
didn't
want
to
do
it.
It's
just
that
I
didn't
have
time."
|
Pro
'Poop
Scoopers'
to
Share
Their
Wares
By
JIM
SUHR,
Associated
Press
Writer
ST.
LOUIS
-
The
folks
who've
made
a
business
of
cleaning
up
what
the
dogs
leave
behind
are
about
to
drop
in
on
St.
Louis
for
a
gathering
all
about
the
scoop
on
poop.
Sound
like
a
waste
of
time?
Not
for
Debbie
Levy
and
others
across
the
country
who
spring
into
action
whenever
doody
calls.
"Smells
like
money
to
me,"
quips
Levy,
the
suburban
St.
Louis
woman
behind
Yucko's
Poop
Scoop'n
Service,
the
home-based
outfit
she
stepped
into
about
a
dozen
years.
"I
look
at
it
as
diamonds
in
the
rough,"
says
Levy,
a
veteran
poop
scooper
in
what
has
emerged
as
a
cottage
industry
complete
with
its
own,
Levy-founded
trade
group
and,
now,
a
convention.
More
than
30
specialists
in
dog
waste
disposal
are
to
converge
here
Friday
through
Sunday
for
the
first-ever
"Powwow
of
Pooper
Scoopers."
There'll
be
guest
speakers,
group
talks
and
networking.
There'll
be
a
field
trip
to
the
American
Kennel
Club's
Museum
of
the
Dog
and
a
stop
at
the
Gateway
Arch.
All
of
it
leads
to
the
main
event:
a
contest
in
which
convention-goers
use
their
tools
of
the
trade
—
everything
from
special
rakes
and
hoes
to
tried-and-true
gloved
hands
—
to
rustle
up
ersatz
excrement.
Most
estimates
say
a
few
hundred
people
make
dealing
with
dogs'
No.
2
their
No.
1
priority.
Such
ventures
dot
America's
landscape,
from
New
York's
Minesweepers
to
New
Jersey's
In
the
Line
of
Dooty
and
California's
On
Doody
and
We
Do
Doo.
If
you
think
it's
easy
money,
don't
hold
your
breath,
Levy
cautions.
While
her
five-employee
Yucko's
is
her
sole
income
source,
the
single
mother
of
a
6-year-old
daughter
warns
that
prospective
Scoopy
Doo-ers
must
handle
marketing,
taxes
and
licensing,
never
mind
the
endless
snickers
and
wisecracks.
"Business
has
been
picking
up"
and
other
puns
have
rolled
off
Levy's
tongue
since
she
opened
shop
in
1990,
after
stepping
onto
something
the
neighbor
dog
left
behind.
Demand
since
has
kept
her
paying
the
bills
through
the
service
that
charges
$15
for
a
once-a-week
visit,
at
least
$25
for
a
stop
at
least
once
a
month.
Her
clientele
has
included
John
Geimer,
who
summoned
Yucko's
after
his
golden
retriever,
Jennifer,
kept
eliminating
outside
his
jewelry
shop.
As
for
cleaning
it
up,
Geimer
says,
"it's
not
that
I
didn't
want
to
do
it.
It's
just
that
I
didn't
have
time."
City
diary
Richard
Adams
Thursday
January
9,
2003
The
Guardian
·
Something
to
look
forward
to
this
month:
the
second
annual
meeting
of
the
Association
of
Professional
Animal
Waste
Specialists
(Apaws),
"a
pow-wow
of
pooper-scoopers"
according
to
its
publicity.
Although
this
may
be
faintly
comic,
Apaws
takes
itself
very
seriously,
as
the
organisation's
"statement
of
philosophy"
on
its
website
makes
clear:
"Members
shall
not
denigrate
the
honesty
or
competence
of
any
fellow
colleague,
or
partake
in
actions
or
business
practices
which
would
result
in
dishonour
to,
or
distrust
of,
his/her
competitors
or
the
animal
waste
industry
in
general."
Quite
right.
richard.adams@guardian.co.uk
|
Two
Scoops |
|
|
Unconventional
convention
delivers
the
poop
|
BY
BYRON
KERMAN
Byron.Kerman@riverfronttimes.com
|
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There
is
controversy
in
the
world
of
dog-poop-removal
professionals.
Some
swear
by
their
shovels.
Others
prefer
rakes.
Some
enjoy
the
ease
of
a
broom
and
dustpan
or
a
pair
of
extra-long
tongs.
Then
there
are
the
mavericks:
a
few
brave
souls
who
rely
on
modified
log-scooping
equipment
they've
devised
themselves
in
secret
underground
labs.
Which
tools
pick
up
waste
the
best,
and
which
are
the
fastest?
That's
the
question
that
will
be
answered
at
the
"Pow
Wow
of
Pooper
Scoopers,"
a
national
convention
for
businesses
that
specialize
in
cleaning
yards
full
of
Fido's
fungoes.
Apparently
it's
not
just
bowling
and
gooey
butter
cake
that
makes
our
town
the
best:
St.
Louis
is
also
home
to
Yucko's,
one
of
the
nation's
most
prominent
pet-waste-removal
businesses.
Yucko's
received
attention
in
the
Riverfront
Times
two
years
ago
[Adam
Pitluk,
"Deep
Doo-Doo,"
March
22,
2000],
when
we
reported
on
their
graphic
advertising
techniques,
which
drove
some
community
leaders
to
distraction.
Yucko's
was
asked
to
change
its
giant
ads,
displayed
in
bus
shelters
and
elsewhere,
depicting
a
big
brown
cartoon
turd
and
a
grinning
pooch,
along
with
the
phrase
"Professionals
in
Turd-Herding."
The
company's
clever
rejoinder,
ads
with
big
"CENSORED"
bars
over
the
offending
offal,
smoothed
the
wrinkled
brows
of
Bi-State
officials.
Now
Yucko's
has
organized
the
first
convention
for
the
industry.
Representatives
from
more
than
30
businesses
dedicated
to
making
your
yard
safe
for
touch
football
will
converge
to
compare
notes
and
scoopers.
On
Saturday,
the
public
is
invited
to
witness
one
of
the
most
unusual
races
we're
ever
likely
to
see:
an
outdoor
poop-pickup
contest
featuring
the
Mario
Andrettis
of
the
scoop-for-speed
set.
Yucko's
chief
Debbie
Levy
reports
that
event
planners
have
not
decided
whether
actual
canine
remainders
or
plastic
facsimiles
will
be
used
in
the
race.
She
also
warns
that
some
of
the
competitors
plan
to
use
their
hands
(in
rubber
gloves,
right?).
"That's
what
a
turd-herder
does
best,"
says
Levy.
"They're
gonna
have
to
show
us
their
best
shit."
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Follow
Your
Nose |
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Test
your
pee-yew
IQ
at
the
Pow
Wow
of
Pooper
Scoopers
|
BY
PAUL
FRISWOLD
Paul.Friswold@riverfronttimes.com |
|
By
Dan
Zettwoch |
 |
The
Turd
Wars
Details:
Saturday,
January
17.
Call
314-770-1500
for
more
info.
Where:
Dodd
Ridge
Kennels
(3048
Dodd
Ridge
Avenue
in
Maryland
Heights)
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Everybody
loves
a
good
poop
joke.
Even
a
halfway-decent
poop
joke
garners
laughs,
because
poop
is
inherently
funny.
Saying
the
word
aloud
in
a
group
of
so-called
adults
is
sure
to
break
up
at
least
one
immature
person
(usually
male),
which
normally
leads
to
a
chain-reaction
giggle-fit.
So
the
decision
to
start
a
business
based
entirely
on
a
comedic
cornerstone
of
the
English
language
is
a
sure
sign
that
you
have
a
good
sense
of
humor.
Debbie
Levy
of
Yucko's
Pooper
Scooper
Service
certainly
has
one,
or
she
wouldn't
organize
the
Second
Annual
Pow
Wow
of
Pooper
Scoopers.
This
three-day
seminar
for
those
in
the
business
of
cleaning
up
other
people's
pets'
business
(a
class
of
professional
whom
Debbie
refers
to
as
"entre-manures")
does
more
than
just
summon
super-scoopers
from
across
the
country
for
the
purpose
of
sharing
tips
on
technique
and
equipment
(most
of
which
is
custom-made
by
industrious
scoopers).
The
Pow
Wow
also
helps
to
raise
money
for
the
United
Animal
Nations,
an
organization
devoted
to
aiding
animals
(www.uan.org).
Truly,
the
Pow
Wow
is
a
way
for
the
scoopers
to
give
something
back
to
those
who
have
given
them
so
much.
Of
course,
the
social
conscience
of
the
Pow
Wow
runs
headlong
into
the
attendees'
sense
of
humor.
On
Saturday
the
scoopers
will
compete
in
the
"Turd
War
Games."
In
addition
to
"Turd-Herding"
(the
gathering
of
droppings
in
a
race
against
the
clock),
this
year
the
experts
in
excrement
will
test
their
knowledge
with
"Name
That
Turd."
Here,
the
pre-gathered,
jar-contained
specimens
must
be
identified
by
dog
breed,
solely
by
sight,
not
by
smell
or
touch
(Levy
notes
that
many
pro
scoopers
conduct
their
business
in
a
"hands-on"
fashion).
Of
course,
spectators
are
welcome.
Try
to
keep
the
snickering
to
a
minimum
during
this
event.
|
riverfronttimes.com
|
originally
published:
January
14,
2004 |
|
The Unreal Guide To Soulard Mardi Gras
Welcome, Willkommen, Bienvenue, Aloha,
Shalom, Howdy!
Published: February
14, 2007 RiverFront Times
|
Yucko Mary
Combine one can of Pepsi, three ounces Fetzer Vineyards' Valley
Oaks Pinot Grigio, two pieces dog shit courtesy of Yucko's Poop
Scoop'n Service (the official poop-and-scoop service of Soulard
Mardi Gras) and Arctic-brand ice. Blend.
Drink of the Week
says: Earthy and gamy with a hint of wet cardboard in the
bouquet, the deep oakiness of a first-growth Château Lafite as
it crosses the palate and a solid, extended finish of German
Shepherd turd.
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Roses
Are
Red,
Yuckos
Are
Brown,
Since
You
Own
A
Dog,
They're
On
The
Ground!
Got
Doo
Doo...?
yuckos@yuckos.com
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