10 Dogs That Are Extremely Hard To Train: Is Yours On The List?

Training a dog can be a rewarding experience—unless you happen to own one of those dogs.

You know the type: independent, stubborn, or just too cool to care.

No matter how many treats you offer or how enthusiastically you call their name, they’ll always find a way to ignore you with style.

Some dogs are simply wired differently, whether it’s their aristocratic attitude, endless energy, or sheer laziness.

Commands are merely suggestions, and obedience is a game they refuse to play.

If you're looking for a well-trained companion, these pups will make sure you lower your expectations—fast.

Basenjis are the ultimate free spirits—aloof, independent, and completely indifferent to your training efforts.

They don’t bark, they don’t listen, and they certainly don’t follow orders.

With a cat-like attitude, they’ll acknowledge your commands with a yawn before sauntering off to do something way more interesting.

Even bribery with treats only works until they decide they’re over it.

A Beagle’s nose is the boss, and once they catch a scent, you officially cease to exist.

Call their name all you want—they’re already halfway across the neighborhood solving a case only they understand.

Training them feels like trying to hold a conversation with someone who’s binge-watching a crime show with noise-canceling headphones on.

You’ll be left standing there, leash in hand, as they unravel the mysteries of the world, one sniff at a time.

Shibas don’t follow orders—they issue them, and they do so with an unshakable level of confidence.

This breed has mastered the art of resistance, ignoring commands with a stubbornness that would impress even the most seasoned rebel.

They’ll give you the infamous “Shiba side-eye” before dramatically turning their back on you, just to make a point.

Training a Shiba is less about teaching them and more about convincing them it was their idea all along.

Dalmatians were bred to run, not to listen, and that rebellious streak is alive and well.

Their boundless energy is channeled into zoomies, mischief, and a level of selective hearing that will leave you questioning your own existence.

They get bored of commands almost as quickly as they get excited about the next adventure.

By the time you say "sit," they’ve already launched into their next chaotic masterpiece.

Training an Afghan Hound?

Good luck convincing this four-legged aristocrat that obedience is worth their time.

These regal dogs are far too sophisticated to concern themselves with commands, treating every interaction as a suggestion rather than a directive.

With their elegant demeanor and independent minds, they’ll glance at you as if to say, “Do it yourself, peasant.”

Even if they do listen, it’s only because they’ve decided it suits their refined aesthetic.

Training a Jack Russell is like trying to hold a tornado in your hands—futile, exhausting, and slightly dangerous.

They have too much energy, too many ideas, and zero patience for your commands.

Even if they grasp a command, they’ll immediately ignore it in favor of bouncing off the walls, chasing an imaginary squirrel, or digging a hole to the center of the earth.

If chaos were a sport, Jack Russells would take home the gold medal every time.

Why train when you can nap?

Bulldogs have perfected the art of ignoring commands while melting into the couch, seemingly one with the cushions.

Their motto? “If it requires effort, count me out.”

You can try treats, enthusiastic praise, or pleading—none of it will move a Bulldog who’s decided training is simply beneath them.

Their only trick? Looking adorable while refusing to budge.

Borzois view training as a pointless activity meant for commoners, not for elegant creatures like themselves.

They’re dignified, graceful, and have no intention of lowering themselves to obey your silly human demands.

If you call them, expect a long, slow glance in your direction before they turn away as if you were never there.

They’re not disobedient out of malice—they just genuinely don’t care.

Huskies don’t just ignore commands, they actively work against them with joyful determination.

Training a Husky is like negotiating with a hyperactive toddler who just learned how to pick locks and discovered their own volume control.

They’d rather escape, throw a dramatic tantrum, or create general chaos than sit and stay.

If you ever get one to listen, savor the moment—it won’t last.

A Chow Chow doesn’t have an owner—it has a staff, and that staff better not expect obedience.

These proud, lion-like fluffballs decide what they will and won’t do, and unfortunately for you, training falls into the “won’t” category.

They might sit—if it benefits them—or they might stare at you with an air of amused superiority.

Training a Chow is less about teaching them and more about accepting that you are, in fact, beneath them.