Description
(Like... squander it. Ruin your life. Cry into your Weetabix.)
🐾 NOW PRESENTING... POSSUM.
The last Frenchie pup standing. The boss. The legend. The coffee-stained goddess of sass.
Born 16th April, now nearly 13 weeks old and possibly the reincarnation of an aristocrat trapped in a squishy goblin body.
👑 COAT DESCRIPTION?
Imagine someone dripped espresso on parchment.
Now imagine that parchment is made of velvet and occasionally spins in circles for liver treats.
That’s Possum.
A true sable Frenchie with genetics rarer than a humble man on Tinder.
🧠 INTELLIGENCE REPORT:
Sit? Done.
Spin? Getting there.
Say Please? Already emotionally blackmailing me with her eyes.
She’s smarter than half the people who’ve tried to buy her. And at least two of my exes.
💸 Price: £750 – Final. No bartering. No begging. No broken hearts.
If you're thinking of asking for a discount and delivery to Twickenham, please go outside and scream into the bin.
I do not do payment plans. I do not deliver to far-flung lands. I barely deliver my own post.
You want her? You come to her. Like a pilgrim.
😭 And please understand this: I am dangerously close to keeping her.
We’re already emotionally enmeshed. I caught myself whispering “mummy loves you best” when the others weren’t looking.
She spins. I cry. She blinks. I make roast chicken. This is not sustainable.
💁♀️ YOU CAN STOP THIS.
By giving Possum the five-star home she deserves and saving me from becoming that woman with 47 dogs and no living room.
📍 Local meet-up around Preston/Chorley is possible.
📸 Zoom in on the chest markings in her photo. That’s art. That’s the Tate Modern should be paying me levels of art.
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HOW TO PROCEED IF INTERESTED:
1. Check your bank.
2. Message me like a grown-up.
3. Don't ask me for Klarna.
4. Collect your squishy masterpiece and live happily ever after.
I only ask for a non refundable deposit if you dont view and collect at the same time.
🕓 Boosting this ad at 1700– just as Britain collectively pretends to work while browsing puppies.
Be the one who actually does something useful with their Friday.
🐾 A Poem by Possum, Last of the Litter 🐾
"An Ode to the Home I Have Not Yet Pee'd On"
I am Possum, the final, the bold,
With a coat like a story that’s barely been told.
Like burnt paper kissed by a velvet eclipse,
And sass that escapes from my twitchy lil’ lips.
They came for my siblings – they squealed, they were sold,
While I sat here like treasure, rare, pure, and gold.
"She’s too perfect," they whispered. "Too clever by half."
One spun and I danced. They ghosted. I laughed.
They ask for a payment plan. They whinge, then they flake.
"I’ll pay £600 and drive to a lake."
Do I look like a bargain bin, Susan from Kent?
This face? This rump? Baby, I’m rent.
I sit on command. I spin for delight.
I "say please" with my eyes in the dead of the night.
My mother adores me – it’s getting unwise.
She whispers, "You’re perfect," with tears in her eyes.
But she can't keep me. There’s three here already.
She’s clinging to sanity, barely and steady.
So I'm calling for someone with heart, soul, and purse,
Who gets that I’m glorious and not some cheap hearse.
So come now, dear human, don’t scroll and regret.
I’m the best
Puppy you'll ever get!