By Paul Takahashi
Las Vegas Sun.
Curtis Murphy quietly lets himself into the backyard of a suburban home in Mountain’s Edge and begins the search, his eyes scouring the ground like some sleuth.
He’s in jeans and an old pair of sneakers. He’s carrying a small, soft-tine rake and a large blue dustpan. A beagle discovers him, runs around the yard, howling and playfully nipping at his heels.
Murphy and the beagle, Booker, are professional buddies. Murphy comes along once a week to pick up Booker’s business.
For this, Rachel Bearden pays Murphy a month.
buy aurogra online www.mydentalplace.com/wp-content/themes/twentytwelve/inc/en/aurogra.html no prescription
“I got tired of going outside to clean it up,” she sighs. “I said, ‘There’s got to be an easier way.’?”
Murphy, 55, is one of more than a dozen entrepreneurs in the Las Vegas Valley who get paid to pick up after other people’s dogs.
They go by such names as Pet Butler, Poo-Snatchers and Happy Pets. Murphy launched his business, KleanScoop, 11 years ago. The work may seem demeaning, but consider this: Murphy figures on making $85,000 this year. Not bad for a high school dropout.
“It ain’t a glamorous job, but it pays the bills,” Murphy says. “Money is money. It’ll stink all the way to the bank.”
Between a third and a half of Las Vegas households have dogs, according to some estimates. With low overhead and a little bit of training, this business isn’t just lucrative — it’s competitive.
During the summer months, when pet owners clamor for his services, Murphy has noticed college students and rival businesses tailing his brown pickup truck. They’ll leave fliers behind at his clients’ doorsteps, trying to poach them with lower prices.
“It’s a dog-eat-dog business,” he says.
