Dogs Are Assigned a Letter Like It’s the Draft

One of the stranger little French quirks — and trust me, there’s stiff competition — is that dogs here are supposed to be named based on the letter assigned to their birth year.

It’s not a law. No one will arrest you.
But it is a thing.

Breeders follow it religiously. Old-timers love it. Paperwork quietly expects it. And everyone seems to agree this is a perfectly reasonable way to name a living creature you’ll be yelling for in public parks for the next decade.

Each year gets a letter.
2023 was U — which feels less like a system and more like a prank.

If you were standing in your garden shouting Ulysse! or Uranus! at full volume, just know: that’s normal here. Those are real dog names. Respectable ones. You can see how this system separates the committed from the self-conscious.

Our youngest dog, Viggo, lucked out.
Born in July 2024 — the letter V — which at least gave us a fighting chance to pick a name that didn’t sound like a discontinued medication.

And then there’s Sully.

Sully is American.
No letters. No system. No registry expectations.
Just a California dog living large in French wine country — the way nature intended.

Which, if you think about it, may be the most French thing of all.