Some things in life are so irresistible you just have to have them regardless of cost.  To some it’s a mansion, to others a Gucci handbag or red Ferrari. In my case it was an 11–month–old yellow labrador called Murphy.

I was buzzing with excitement the moment I saw him in action.

This was no ordinary retriever; he had style, pace and an inner sense of calm.

I immediately offered his owner a price he couldn’t refuse…but he did. He was no fool and realised Murphy had class.

I made myself a nuisance following him around every event constantly upping my offer but to no avail. Then I turned up at a retriever trial one day in Mrs B’s car and Murphy’s owner wandered over to take a look.

"My wife has always wanted one of these cars," he said and I knew I had him.

Within the hour he was heading home with Mrs B’s car and Murphy was mine. (All I had to do was explain the missing car.)

Since then Murphy and I have criss-crossed the country, competing, eating and occasionally sleeping together.

We’ve wilted under the August sun on grouse moors, frozen witless in the Scottish Highlands and trudged soaking through the Norfolk marshes.

Along the way we’ve won our share of trophies culminating in Murphy’s stunning success at Chatsworth becoming the first dog in history to win the prestigious two-day event without dropping a single point.

Sadly, Murphy dislocated his shoulder leaping over a six foot stone wall and I retired him from competition, but when the winter winds blow he’ll be back amid the pheasants and partridge doing what he loves.

When I first started training an old timer told me to look out for that ‘dog of a lifetime.’ He said it would be a dog that worked for me out of sheer joy. I knew the first time I saw him, Murphy was that dog.

He follows me everywhere these days just counting down the start of a new season.

He won’t be competing but he doesn’t know that and I shan’t tell him. No matter the weather, my heart soars when I see him galloping towards me, breath steaming, holding his trophy aloft. Murphy and I have a deal.

We respect each other’s needs. We’re comfortable together and happy to share whatever the day brings.

If you’re hiking across the grouse moors this summer, look out for that handsome golden Lab flying through the heather. Chances are… that’s my boy.

(NB: A word of advice: unless you have a death wish NEVER swap your wife’s car for a dog.)

The views expressed on this page are Vic Barlow’s and not those of the Macclesfield Express