Poo~Pourri Pumpkin Spice 2 Fl Oz Fall Toilet Spray

Love this one! Should have this year round & available in large size. Very good scent. One of the best!

A wonderful fall scent gives our home a hint of spice for a warm welcome!

Pumpkin Spice has a nice bold cinnamon scent. Makes my bathroom smell great. I wish they would keep Pumpkin Spice year around. I think it is my favorite Poo-Pourri scent. Please, please consider making this one available year round! I would buy it during any season and I'm sure others would too!

These sprays are always stocked in my house. They work so well and just need a spray before going to the bathroom and you're odor free. The pumpkin spice smells amazing and brings me back to fall with the warm pumpkin and cinnamon scent. All you need is one spray before using the restroom and then flush after and you're good to go.

This is my favorite scent so far. I Love the pumpkin spice scent. It's just strong enough without being too much.

This scent was amazing. Just wish it was available in the refills. They do have this scent in air sorta etc. but not Poo-Pouri. Looking forward to this being an option. Getting tired of the only two refill scents available.

This stuff smells so good!! It's admittedly a little strange that the bathroom smells exactly like pumpkin pie after pooping, but it's certainly better than the alternative. And the stuff really works, too, really well. Happy customer!

Love to use Pumpkin Spice before going. It smells great and is not an overpowering smell. The bathroom smells good and it's a great odor for not just fall but year round.

THIS IS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE SCENT! It's really spicy, smell's like I was baking something really good. I also love the lavender/eucalyptus but I can't have that around my cat.

I bought this recently after seeing it in the impulse buy area of a local store, and posted a photo to Instagram with a snarky caption. Multiple friends asked me for an honest review, which led me to create the overly dramatic retelling of my morning ablutions that absolutely nobody asked for: The mid-October morning was overcast and boggy. Raindrops pelted heavily against the windows as outside, leaves in shades of tangerine, persimmon, and beetroot were wrested from the branches upon which they'd grown, scattering in the sodden wind. Within, a woman and her kumquat-hued cat descended the stairs. She carried a caffeinated libation in her hand, pausing to quaff a mouthful before pushing through the antique mahogany door into the kitchen. The farmhouse was old, and the door swung softly back toward its frame as the slight tilt of the wall beckoned it home. The cat, unperturbed by the movements of the aged architecture, sprang gracefully upwards to perch on the rim of the deep, steel washbasin, surveying his domain. The woman drank heartily again, blotting away a stray drop of beverage that lingered at the corner of her mouth. A telltale rumble, its origins as old as the human race itself, resonated from within her abdomen. It was time. She placed her beverage atop the kitchen table before her and turned toward the rear of the house, her foot raised to step forward. The cat, prescient of the imminent event, bounded down to the floor and rushed forth, leading the woman onward. He paused, halfway into their destination, and turned to reassure himself that she followed. And follow she did, for the rumble echoed again, more insistently this time. Seemingly satisfied that his human pursued him, the cat ambulated into the small lavatory and assumed a perch on the lid of the commode, smug satisfaction evident on his feline visage. A ritual began then, which the grimalkin followed regularly and with fierce devotion. He was in the way, the woman insisted. He gazed at her, blinking slowly, the rumble of his purrs echoing the cacophony emanating from her belly. She sighed, hands outstretched to move the cat to a less obstructive location. The purring only increased in intensity as he serenely complied with her relocation effort. Cat successfully displaced, the woman flipped up the lid of the porcelain throne and turned her attention to the rack of various cleansers and sundry before her. Her gaze alit on a small, white bottle, and it was in within her grasp anon. She prised the lid from the bottle and turned it toward the clear waters below. Her index finger compressed the actuator twice, then a third time for good measure. The sharp aroma of cinnamon fragrance oil wafted upwards. She made ready. She sat. She pulled out her mobile phone. Some time later as she made egress from the lavatory, her hands washed and the latrine flushed, she noted that during her brief sojourn to the powder room, she'd smelled only that sharp cinnamon tang during those most crucial moments. Pumpkin Spice, she knew, was a fragrance of Poo-Pourri that she would take home again, if the impulse purchase presented itself.