Vadaszias Vizslas

Hungarian Tales

These tales depicting the Vizsla exploits from 1929, show how much we have in common with these old hunters and their dogs.

January and the Vizsla (from 1929)
Just a few more days and the Hunting Season is over, after which come the stories. And while we reminisce around the table, our friend good old ‘Koma’ (or Ripp, or Lady) sleeps by the fire having no idea that the talks are mostly about him. Perhaps he also thinks about his adventures, so much so, that even his feet are moving, while dreaming.
His duty now is - to rest. Sometimes we give him a few simple tasks in the room, or when venturing outside. We sit him down, or ask him to lie down, and when walking ask him to find things we drop. We do this to remind him who is the boss.
Let us join some friends now and listen to their stories about their good friends the Vizsla:
Dr K. B. remembers the day when he went hunting for partridges. He managed to hit one bird, which though badly injured, flew on for about four to five hundred yards, landing in the garden of a farmhouse. The vizsla watched the bird and when it fell started to look for it. The garden was fenced round so that he could not get to the other side. But of course, the vizsla can think! He went round the whole garden, until arriving at the house, he walked through the gate, - not caring about the farmer’s own two dogs - into the garden, found the bird, and returned the same way.
Another story about the same vizsla. The doctor and his two friends went out to find some snipes. After a while the two friends managed to shoot three birds, but could not find them.
By the time the doctor and his vizsla caught up with them it was getting dark. The vizsla immediately found two of the birds, but his master sent him back to find the third one. The dog disappeared, then from quite a distance it returned carrying the injured bird.
Dr M.J. told a story about his vizsla Nero. During a walk in the forest Nero suddenly stopped and gazed in the direction of a place not far away. And surely, there were a couple of partridges. M.J. managed to hit two birds, but Nero still did not move, just looked. In a few seconds a third bird started to fly away, and only when that one was killed, would Nero move to collect them. He must have know exactly, how many birds there were.
How good it is to listen to these stories, during the long interval between the hunting seasons. We are remembering these episodes with a lot of affection and keep on dreaming about them long after they happen.