Dear Readers: On two recent day trips to San Francisco to entertain visiting friends, I couldn’t help but notice the preponderance of dogs on leashes everywhere I turned. San Franciscans love their pets, and people are out and about walking their pooches in all corners of the city at all hours of the day and night. I did see a wide variety of purebreds and many beautiful and interesting mixed breed dogs, but by far, the breed I saw the most trotting along the streets was the French Bulldog.
Was I seeing things? Was my mind playing flat-faced tricks on me? Was this some sort of silly joke being played on an unsuspecting veterinarian who feels particularly vulnerable to sweet, slobbering bubble-headed dogs that have big bat-like ears and bulging eyes? Surely I wasn’t going insane right there on the streets of San Francisco, was I? Perhaps this was my personalized version of The Birds: only instead of Birds, they are Frenchies, and Tippy Hedren was not in this movie. Instead, I am in the title role. Oh, and birds aren’t swooping down and pecking my eyes out – rather, French bulldogs are sauntering by and licking my ankles.
I decided I’d better quantify this notion just to convince myself that a sanitarium was not in my near future. Over the next hour, as I walked from Divisidero and Haight to Castro and 18th, I counted 18 more French Bulldogs in Cream, Black and Brindle. My assumptions were correct. This breed of dog is hot and people in San Francisco love their French Bulldogs.
One owner told me “why would anyone get any other breed? They are the perfect size, they are sweet, wonderful pets. I love them, I’ll never have another breed.” I suppose if he was a representative sample, I know why the city by the bay is crammed full of these petite little pleasure givers who are splendid delights of dogs – despite their dizzying numbers having me questioning my sanity for awhile. – Dr. F
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