The 12-year-old kid who walked in and sat down across the desk from me introduced himself as Sam “Scoop” Piles. He was dressed and smelled like a Chicago bum, but insisted that he was the founder and president of a company called The Scoopers, Inc. His flannel shirt was way too big, and his Cubs baseball cap was on sideways. He was wearing a grungy pair of beat-up jeans, which were tucked into a huge pair of hiking boots. Strapped to his belt were a pair of welding gloves, a few rags and what looked like a paint scraper. He was carrying a bucket and a large claw-like contraption that looked very familiar, but I just couldn’t place it.

“I was wondering if you would advertise about my company, The Scoopers, Inc., in your column,” he began, and handed me a flyer describing the company’s services.

According to the flyer, The Scoopers is a team of highly trained professionals working to better our environment—by scoopin‘ poop.

It appears that the company has been having trouble getting off the ground, and Scoop’s business advisor, his dad, told him to try advertising.

I told him that I made it a policy not to promote any businesses in my column, but if he explained his business to me I might be able to help in some other way.

“Well,” he began, “the first thing people don’t realize is that there is a necessary uniform for this job, as well as necessary equipment. The right equipment is vital to be a really good pooper-scooper.”

I nodded in agreement, urging him on.

“First you need gloves,” he said. “Thick gloves are best so you don’t get that nasty, bacteria-infected waste on your bare skin. Second, you should always wear long pants and boots, or high-top gym shoes. Tuck your pants into the boots so your cuffs don’t get dirty when you step in the bigger piles.

“When it comes to the actual scoopin’ itself the true professionals shine. This is where our years of experience come in, and this is why The Scoopers is such a great service. Our technique is foolproof!”

“The first step is the approach and stance,” he stated. “Always approach the doo from upwind so the smell doesn’t make you sick. (Many people quit the business because of their failure to follow this rule). You should stand about six inches from the pile and spread your legs so you have a firm yet comfortable stance. You want to be ready for the heavier loads, you know.”

At this point Scoop dropped a couple Baby Ruth candy bars on the floor in front of him.

“To do the dirty deed, get a firm grasp on the handles and open the scooper wide enough to get the whole load, if that’s possible. Lower the scooper around the pile and, as you close it, shake it and dig into the ground a little to get underneath the doo. Hold the handles tightly, raise it over your bucket, open the scooper and bombs away! That’s all there is to it,” he said, smiling humorously.

Well, I was impressed and decided to help The Scoopers, Inc. The kid was pretty good, and certainly knew his business. Having been an unwilling pooper-scooper myself at one time, I understood the value of such a business.

Besides, anyone can have a lemonade stand or mow lawns as a kid.