Em & Hounds

31/10/2026

🥰🥰🥰

29/10/2026

Love this girl 😍😍

27/10/2026

Barney who can’t sit still 🤣🤣

22/10/2026

22/10/2026

Lotties first visit to me today, she was about 80% matts in the first picture and it was once she was semi dry after a wash, I had preclipped her as well. The second picture is Lottie all done.

Lottie was taken in by a lovely lady who contacted me asking for my help and I love helping anyone with dogs. I know some people can feel scared to ask us groomers for help but honestly us groomers just want to help you and the dogs. Please never feel scared to ask for help ❤️

20/10/2026

20/10/2026

Luna cuddles are the best 🥰❤️

19/10/2026

Too funny to not share 🤣

🚨 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.