Two local women have decided to make business their business -- dogs' business, that is.

Since the beginning of the year, both Katie Halstead and Anne Woolwine have started "pet-waste management" services, otherwise known as pooper scoopers. Halstead's is the Dooty Diva; Woolwine's is Poops on Us. Although they only have a handful of customers so far, both have great expectations.

Their business models are the same: They'll come to your yard as often as you like (weekly visits are typical) to scoop and bag what your dogs leave behind, disposing of it properly and leaving you without a biological minefield behind your house.

Ask either of them "What can brown do for you?" and you might find the answer is "a lot" -- although not quite the way the folks at United Parcel Service intended. People will pay good money to have someone else deal with the business end of dog ownership.

Halstead launched the Dooty Diva earlier this year as an expansion of her dog-training business. The owner of two Great Danes -- one, she said, with stomach problems -- she knows firsthand the worst a dog owner can face in the yard.

She came up with the scooping plan soon after the birth of her second child. Motherhood has in fact helped desensitize her to the perils of poop. "I'd rather scoop the yard than change diapers," she admitted.

Woolwine also has the entrepreneurial gene. She used to own her own business delivering lost luggage for US Airways, but wanted to try something new. "I was looking for something that Roanoke didn't have," she explained, "and with research on the Internet I came across this."

A self-described pet lover and an owner of three dachshunds, Woolwine knew an opportunity when she stepped in it. She isn't the only one. There's even an industry group, the Association of Professional Animal Waste Specialists, as well as several companies offering branded franchises. One is headquartered just outside Charlottesville: DoodyCalls, with franchises in four states.

"There's hundreds of people doing this across the country," said Jacob D'Aniello, who founded DoodyCalls with his wife, Susan, in 2000. And there's a pile of work to be done. "Anytime you have 40 percent of the population doing something they don't want to do, there should be someone to take care of it," he said.

For some of his franchisees, poop scooping is a full-time job. For others it's a side business -- and a profitable one. "The average client pays $14 a week for one dog," D'Aniello said. "You don't need too many clients before it adds up."

And those clients are getting easier to come by in this era where people with overcrammed lives hire someone just to mow their lawns. If you're going to pay someone to do something for you, wouldn't you have them tackle the least-appealing job?

As Woolwine put it simply, "A lot people, they just don't want to fool with it."

Heather Jacobson, who works from home running her own business, hired Halstead to take care of her yard once a week. It was a matter of time, she said.

"I work from home and I run my own business. Somewhere in there I have to fit time for my boyfriend, for me, for sleep. Picking up dog poop doesn't rank in there anywhere."

And she's got plenty, thanks to three dogs -- two Great Danes (one's a puppy) and a black Lab. "When she [Halstead] comes over and does it for me, it's the peace of mind," she said. "You wouldn't believe the piles back there."

With kids playing and friends visiting, having a poop-free yard is important. Marketing yourself as a pooper-scooper comes easily. Folks want a green yard, not a brown and lumpy one.

Aside from the yuck factor, a yard full of dog droppings isn't the healthiest place in the world. Not only are they full of bacteria, but if left long enough, Halstead said, they make their way into the water table. "Then what are we drinking every night? Water with a side of poo juice."

So Halstead and Woolwine are getting the word out; they've put up fliers in veterinary offices and pet-grooming shops, where the clientele are the obvious users of their services. They're also both working with local shelters.

And let's not forget the real estate market.

"The last thing a Realtor wants when they're showing a home to a non-dog-owner," Halstead said, "is a yard full of the diddlies. Can I say 'diddlies'?"

Diddlies, poo, poop, number two, john doobies and a bunch of terms we can't print here -- they've heard them all. And they both recognize the humor in their professions. Halstead counts herself one of the few people who can honestly say, "You can't believe the crap I've put up with today."