23/10/2026
🚨 FOR SALE. FREE TO A GOOD HOME. POSSIBLY WILLING TO PAY YOU. 🚨
Anyone interested in an 8 month old, allegedly Hungarian Vizsla?
Breed identification currently pending.
Colour: Predominantly red, although approximately 45% is now a rather fetching shade of dark brown. Not entirely sure whether this is mud, fox poo or something that was once alive.
Fragrance: Eau de Fox Arse. Quite pungent. Lingers beautifully. 🤢
Hearing: Selective. Possibly profoundly deaf. Can hear a crisp packet being opened three counties away but apparently cannot hear me shouting his name from six feet.
Recall: More of a suggestion than an actual trained behaviour. Occasionally acknowledges my existence before continuing with whatever criminal activity he’s involved in.
Intelligence: Currently sharing one brain cell with the rest of the Vizsla population. Unfortunately, it’s not his week to have it.
Personality: Somewhere between a feral woodland creature, a caffeinated toddler and a Victorian street urchin with absolutely no moral compass.
General behaviour: Feral. Completely and utterly feral. If chaos wore a fur coat, this would be it.
I have spent over 30 years training dogs. I have qualifications, degrees, accreditations and a fairly respectable understanding of canine behaviour.
And yet here I am, standing in a field, covered in mud, negotiating with what appears to be a ginger wheelie bin full of bad decisions.
I am questioning my career, my life choices and whether I should have taken up something considerably less stressful. Like crocodile wrestling.
THANK GOD FOR SCENT DETECTION.
Because apparently, when there’s something to sniff out, the little git transforms into a focused, intelligent, highly motivated working dog.
The brain cell clocks in. The lights come on. Someone is actually home.
The minute we finish?
Brain cell clocks out. Gone fishing. Back to being a complete and utter swamp donkey.
I love him dearly. Obviously.
But if anyone sees me wandering around Northamptonshire muttering to myself, please don’t be alarmed.
I’m just a professional dog trainer being professionally humbled by an eight month old ginger idiot.
Peanut. You absolute weapon. ❤️🐾
No puppies will actually be rehomed. Although offers of w**e, sympathy and industrial strength dog shampoo will be gratefully received.
