In the United States, dog names can be as wild and whimsical as their owners’ imaginations. Across the Atlantic, though, many French owners of pedigree dogs play by a very different set of rules. Instead of naming their pets on a whim, they often follow a long-standing alphabetical dog naming system that quietly shapes what thousands of puppies will be called each year.

For anyone curious about French culture, purebred dogs in France, or why a French bulldog might be named “The Diego,” this unusual tradition is a revealing glimpse into how structure and pride can turn even pet names into a national ritual.

This quirky French dog naming rule recently captured widespread attention when Francophile and fluent French speaker Roya Fox shared an Instagram reel exploring the practice. Her short video quickly resonated, accumulating more than three million views and leaving many American viewers, in particular, stunned that such a structured naming system even exists. The practice itself is not new, however. As Fox explains in her reel, the French convention dates back almost a century to 1926 and was created as a practical way to keep track of purebred dogs and their bloodlines.

At its core, the system is simple. Each year is assigned a specific letter of the alphabet. Any purebred dog born in that year that is to be officially registered must have a name starting with that letter. For example, puppies born in 2024 receive names beginning with the letter V, while 2025 belongs to the letter W. Once the alphabet cycles through, it starts again, and 2026 returns to A as the first letter of all registered purebred names for that year. The idea makes it easy to roughly determine a dog’s age just by the initial of its official name, which is especially useful for breeders and registries who manage extensive pedigree records.

Not every letter makes the cut, however. The French system skips certain letters, such as K, Q, W, X, Y, and Z, which are considered too difficult or too uncommon in typical French names. This detail highlights how the tradition is not only about order, but also about aligning with the rhythms and sounds of the French language. Fox notes that these omissions are intentional, a nod to what feels natural and practical within French naming conventions rather than a rigid insistence on using every letter available.

The rule has a concrete consequence. It officially applies to dogs that are registered with the LOF, or Livre des Origines Français, which functions in a similar way to the American Kennel Club in the United States. Owners who want their dog recognized as a registered purebred in this national registry must respect the assigned letter of the year. If they ignore it and name the dog outside the system, their pet cannot be entered in the LOF. For breeders and owners invested in pedigrees, shows, or formal documentation, that single letter is non-negotiable.

What makes the tradition especially intriguing is how it extends beyond strict regulation and seeps into everyday life. While the LOF requirement applies only to registered purebreds, many French dog owners with mixed breeds voluntarily follow the system as well. According to Fox, plenty of people see it as a point of cultural pride and a charming way to participate in a shared national habit. Instead of being a stiff bureaucratic hurdle, the alphabetical rule often becomes a talking point among dog lovers, a small ritual that connects them to a broader French dog naming culture.

The system also adapts as people interpret it for their own lives. Fox notes that some owners of rescue dogs choose to use the letter of the year in which they adopted the dog rather than the year the dog was born. For them, the adoption date is the beginning of their story with the dog, and the name becomes a marker of that fresh start. I found this detail striking because it shows how a formal registry rule can turn into something more personal and sentimental when it escapes the confines of paperwork.

Of course, not every letter suits every name that owners dream up, and that is where creativity takes over. Fox describes how people sometimes invent workarounds to satisfy both the registry and their own preferences. If the letter of the year is V but an owner wants to call the dog Kemi, one solution is to register the dog as “V Kemi” or place a V in front of the chosen name just to pass the paperwork requirements. In day to day life, they simply ignore the extra letter and call the dog Kemi. The official record stays in line with LOF rules while the household name feels natural and personal.

An example shared in the comments to Fox’s video illustrates this playful compromise. One person explained that their dog was born in a year assigned the letter T, but the family had already settled on the name Diego. To satisfy the naming rule for purebred dogs in France, they registered the animal as “The Diego” so that the official name started with T. In practice, the dog is Diego, but on paper, he proudly carries a name that begins with the right letter for his birth year. Stories like this show how owners balance tradition with individuality, bending the formulas just enough to protect their own sense of connection to the name.

The overall mood surrounding this French dog naming tradition is lighthearted and affectionate rather than rigid or austere. While the practice originated as a way to trace lineage and maintain order in breeding records, it now functions as a kind of cultural game. Many owners embrace the alphabetical dog naming system as a chance to be inventive within a simple constraint. Instead of limiting creativity, the assigned letter can prompt unusual ideas and names that might never have emerged otherwise.

For those more familiar with the free form American approach, where names often reflect jokes, pop culture, or sheer whimsy, the French system can be surprising. Yet it fits neatly into a broader picture of France as a country that values structure, history, and shared custom, even in something as seemingly small as what to call the family dog. In a world where pet names can trend and disappear in a flash, this nearly hundred year tradition offers continuity. It anchors each dog not only to its family, but also to a particular moment in time and a quiet national rhythm of letters turning over year by year.

Whether someone loves the idea of naming a puppy according to its birth year or prefers complete freedom, it is hard to deny the charm of a rule that has lasted for so long and still invites playful bending at the edges. For many French owners, the letter system is both a nod to heritage and a canvas for creativity, reminding us that even the name we whisper to a dog in the kitchen at night can carry a story bigger than ourselves. Read more at https://www.today.com