Poodle is the word I readily choose when there is a need to avoid using the term "dog". 

People respond to the fact that I own dogs through snide and snobbish look that reads "you got time and money in which you drown expensive pets overhead"; or reads "extra love you have".  When they display that sanctimonious look, I detract them with new words.

My friends say poodles are emotional animals, jumpy and easily tantalized. But the truth is, they are decent, sophisticated, above reproach creatures, yet somehow (still) outcast by their former parents. I discovered them at a friend's house, in a throng of unrest rabbles barking for bread. You can't blame them for not being  square-shaped or fluffy like candy floss, with which they could've been boosted by top breeders, but for those absurd reasons, they were forgotten by my friend, or more exactly, they got the lot coming back home with me.

Her name is google, and his, is Mafia. I arranged their marriage and I didn't see they have a problem with that.  I see them as industrious and  righteous animals. They do  meterage work by finding out how long a roll of toilet paper reaches; they do piracy punishment by breaking my DVDs in pieces. They do morning call job when I reserve that service, or not. And when I find fighting is easier than arguing, they consider the other one as backup force.

Numerous stories they have, I am posting their pictures here for your enjoyment.