I once knew a lady who house-trained poodles for poodle skirts. It’s a harder job than you might think, house-training a dog who’s going to be hanging on to a skirt for dear life at sock hops and the like, but she was good at it. She took her poodles to competitions and won many prizes.
In the end, though, her career ended in sadness. She’d been training a truly promising poodle, almost completely flat from side-to-side, with excellent gripping skills and perfect bladder control, a poodle that was shaping up to be a true champion—and then it turned out the dog got motion-sick. Walking was fine, but twirling was right out. She tried giving the poodle Dramamine, but that just made the poor thing look hung-over, which was not at all the thing that the judges look for, or teenage girls either.
In the end the poodle ran off to New Orleans with a Hush Puppie, leaving the lady with an un-poodle skirt and a hefty dry cleaning bill, and she gave up the whole thing.