I had a dog once, a little terrier mutt that I got at the pound. He had been running wild with a pack when they picked him up. The first few weeks he kept digging under the fence and getting out of our yard. We lived right near City Park, which has a big lake that's stocked with fish. Every time he got loose he ran over there and stayed there all day. At dusk I'd find him on the front porch, waiting to come in and eat. He always smelled vile. He rolled in dead, rotten fish. It was awful. So I can imagine what it smells like, Ken. Ugh.