If you ever think your job stinks, talk to Kostas Ioannidis.

Three days a week, the 36-year-old Clemson graduate visits hundreds of Lowcountry backyards, armed with a 2-foot-long Allen Super Scooper and a plastic grocery bag, with one goal in mind: to pick up dog poop.

Right now, you might be thinking: "Wait, so you're telling me that a grown man, with an actual college degree, willingly goes by a last name that mostly consists of vowels?" I'm afraid so.

But more than likely you're thinking: "He must have lost a bet, right?"

Astoundingly, no. For three years, Ioannidis has driven around the Charleston area looking for — sniffing out, if you will — new customers for his dog waste removal service, Scoopy Doos.

The idea for the business came from a friend who thought it might be a lucrative venture.

"When he first mentioned it," Ioannidis told me, "I thought, 'That's one of those ideas that's so stupid it might actually work.'"

Naturally, I understood what he meant because I deal with newspaper editors on a daily basis.

As it turns out, his friend's intuition was right. Today Scoopy Doos picks up after more than 200 "Good boys!" each and every week. And on Tuesday, I was given the distinct honor of serving as Ioannidis's assistant scooper. Or, as I liked to call the position, his No. 2 man.

Alan Hawes
The Post and Courier

As head of the Poopie Patrol, Bryce learned several valuable skills. Most importantly, always breathe through your mouth.

We began our poop patrol in the I'On neighborhood of Mount Pleasant.

As poop-picking-up days go, you really couldn't have asked for more. It was sunny and warm, but more importantly, dry. Because, as you can very well imagine, rain is not a pooper scooper's best friend.

At our first stop, Ioannidis shared the five basic steps one should always follow when handling poop:

1. Scoop.

2. Put in bag.

3. Light on fire.

4. Ring doorbell.

5. Run.

OK, so that was actually what Andy Katz and I used to always do in my neighborhood when we were 10 years old. Ioannidis' tips were much simpler, like: "Remember Bryce, always watch your step when ... OK, yeah, you might want to try to find a stick around here somewhere."

As we went from yard to yard, neighborhood to neighborhood, it quickly became apparent that all poop is not alike.

Some is big. Some is REALLY big.

At one point during our scooping session, Ioannidis turned to me and with the look of a parent who just learned his child had made the honor roll, said: "You know, my cocker spaniel puts out more poop than almost all of my customers."

Though I think he meant his customers' dogs, I can't be completely sure.

After spending more than two hours picking up Labrador logs, dachshund droppings and beagle bits, I turned in my scooper to Ioannidis and called it a day.

Though there are bound to be those who think picking up poop isn't the most honorable way to make a living, Ioannidis counters by saying: "Unlike most people, I actually enjoy my job. I'm outside in the sunshine, I make my own schedule and I get to meet lots of nice people."

I think I speak for the majority of dog-owning Americans when I say thanks for doing the dirty work for us.

And you missed a big one right over there by the tree.

Bryce Donovan is thinking of starting a company that specializes in putting poop IN people's yards. Reach him at 937-5938 or bdonovan@postandcourier.com.