There lay Cerberus, or, as Horace puts it, the hundred-headed monster. Claudius was a trifle perturbed (it was an off-white bitch he used to keep for a pet) when he spied this black shag-haired hound, not at all the kind of thing you could wish to meet you in the dark.
-- Divine Claudius Turns Into A Pumpkin, by Seneca