Perusing eBay one evening for environmentally friendly film developers, I came across a unique listing. A seller in Canada had a limited production run black and white developer for sale.
Background
Horace Danderfield was born in the spring of 1897 in the small Oregon logging town of Pinesworth. At an early age he had learned both Latin and how to properly groom a terrier. Winters in Pinesworth were long, dogs were plentiful, and hobbies improvised. A young Horace soon took to photography spending his days hiking in the foothills of the Cascades capturing any image that caught his fancy.
For nearly two decades, Horace ventured into the wilderness and came back with stunning photos of local flora and fauna. His work amassed quite a following, with an annual picnic, the Horace Danderfield Photograph Appreciation Society, and the town of Pinesworth going so far as to designate May the 4th as Horace Danderfield Day.
By all accounts Horace had become a successful photographer content to continue his daily hikes.
Sadly, in the fall of 1913 Horace’s beloved Schnauzer, Pixie, got into the darkroom while he was out hiking and ingested a large quantity of Kodak developer. In the wake of her passing, he vowed to come up with a eco-friendly pet safe alternative. Sequestered in his darkroom Horace tried everything, from mulberry leaves to peat moss, cucumber skins to coffee. Nothing gave him the results he was looking for.
After years of failure, Horace was forced to get a job. In the summer of 1921, while working as a chemist at the Portland Photographic Supply Cooperative, Horace brought his jack russell terrier, Mack, to the shop. During a long exposure test, Mack (bored, restless, and untrained) lifted his leg on a tray of experimental developer. Horace, distracted by a jammed shutter, didn’t notice until the mixture had already reacted.
When Horace went to check on the developer, he was astounded at the results, not only did images come out crisp and clear, but they had a pleasing yellow cast.
After more experimentation, Horace realized that dog urine was the only component necessary to get great photos. He soon patented the name “Urinol” and began production.
All of Pinesworth’s canines were hired. Soon enough, royalties from sales allowed all of the townsfolk to retire while their beloved pups and progeny got paid for going no. 1. Fully a quarter of the town was converted to a park where the dogs could live in luxury.
An added benefit to production was that leftover urine could be spread around the town as a warning to the local wolf population.
Sadly, the days of Urinol were numbered. Only urine from dogs living in Pinesworth at the time, and immediate offspring, possessed the properties required for film development. Production could not be scaled beyond initial production levels and got weaker with each canine generation.
Back to the present. The bottle of Urinol had been unopened since production in 1936. Cracking open the top let loose an aroma reminiscent of parmesan rinds mixed with asparagus and I hoped the developer was as potent as it smelled.
The photos develop with nice crispness and tonality, and the originally noticed aroma should linger for months. I intended to provide sample images taken with my Pen-F, but my dog ate them.
Happy April fools!