My name is Pamplemousse (in French: grapefruit), but my friends call me Pompi. A lot of people make the mistake of calling me a Pug… hey, some of my best friends are those curly-tailed fellow flat-faces, but you should know that I’m a proud French Bulldog. Most of you probably know me from the big orange ball that I enjoy carrying around the park wherever I go. I love chasing after that ball, even though it’s half my size, as if I’m some kind of retriever. But I’ll get to the ball a little later.
I was born in American Canyon in 2010 and came to my permanent home in North Berkeley when I was only 2 months old and 8 pounds. Ever since, I have been a nearly daily fixture at Point Isabel, or the Point as my human parents call it. I used to go on walks out on the North side of the bridge with my companion, a lovable Golden Retriever named Jesse, but he trotted away to doggie heaven this past March. It was very sad for the whole family, but I remember him daily when I go by his favorite spots.
To get to know me better, you should probably know two main rules that I live by:
I Rule the Roost
OMOT (On My Own Terms)
My human parents, Josh and Tiffany, know these laws well. Rule the Roost means that even though I am a small 20-pound dog bred mostly for snuggling and couch surfing, mentally I am a 125-pound Malamute. Therefore I am not intimidated by any big dogs, and I fully expect my humans to follow orders.
The second rule is more complicated. I use OMOT in many different situations, but mostly when humans want me to do something and, sensing that they do, I make sure that I do the opposite.
Perfect example: My humans come over, because I’m looking so cute, and try to snuggle and pet me. OMOT (On My Own Terms): I will agree to be worshiped and pet, but only when I’m ready for it, so I may move away until I’m good and ready.
So let me tell you about my big ball. It makes me feel powerful when I shake it like it’s a hedgehog and carry it around. Occasionally I will bring it over to groups of people and dogs to show it off, so please throw it for me if I see you in the park.
I will end by giving you the Top 5 myths about French Bulldogs. Then I will explain how I’ve shattered them in my short lifetime.
Frenchies are slow. Throw the ball and you will see how fast 6-inch legs can go!
Frenchies have trouble breathing. Sure, I get a little winded on a hot day after ball chasing, but it’s no problem.
Frenchie owners crop their dogs’ tails. We don’t come with tails! Just nubs.
Frenchies have an attitude. Well, that one might be true. But it’s a sassy attitude!
Frenchies are the same as Pugs. Don’t get me started.
See you around the Point!