My mother kept poodles. One was an old "mouser" named Grady who had it in for one of the other poodles, a toy. We came back from a movie or dinner one evening and even at the bottom of the stairs to our flat we could smell a terrible stink. We found the place covered in shit and blood and the body of the toy under a table. Aparently it and Grady had it out earlier. God, I hate poodles.