In the US, picking a dog’s name is pure creative freedom. Some owners choose sweet and silly ones like Pickles, while others lean into witty choices like Bark Twain. Yet across the Atlantic, France takes a far more organized approach, one that surprises many Americans — a strict naming rule that has been in place for nearly a century.
The tradition began in 1926 as a way to track purebred dogs more easily. Rather than letting owners choose any name, France assigns a specific letter to each birth year. Every purebred registered in that year must have a name starting with that letter. For example, puppies born in 2024 had names that began with "V," whereas puppies born in 2025 had names that had to begin with "W."
Freepik | France has a strict, century-old rule that dictates the first letter of a purebred dog's name based on its birth year.
However, not every letter is part of the cycle. Letters such as K, Q, W, X, Y, and Z are considered tricky and less common in French naming culture, so they’re skipped. After the 2025 “W” year, the cycle restarts in 2026 with “A.”
This rule applies officially only to pedigree dogs registered with the Livre des Origines Français, which functions much like the American Kennel Club. Still, plenty of mixed-breed owners also follow the tradition as a nod to national pride and culture. Those who ignore the rule for purebreds lose the option to register their dogs with the LOF.
French dog lovers have found creative ways to make the system work for them. When a letter doesn’t suit the chosen name, some add it as a formality, then ignore it in daily life. One owner, facing a “V” year but set on the name Kemi, registered the dog as “V-Kemi” and simply pretended the “V” wasn’t there. Another laughed about naming their dog “The Diego” because the assigned year was “T.”
Freepik | To bypass the annual letter rule, French dog lovers add the required letter to their dog's name but don't use it.
The anecdotes only get better. A great aunt once sidestepped the rules with “Obergine,” happily embracing the misspelling. Someone else filed “L-vis” with the authorities, even though “Elvis” was what the dog answered to in real life. And then there was 2023—the notorious “U” year—when dog parks rang with names like “Uranus,” “Ulysse,” and, to everyone’s delight, “U2.”
What began as bureaucracy has become ritual. Each name doubles as a time capsule, tying a pet’s identity to its birth year. Some owners treasure that sense of tradition; others simply revel in the playful challenge the alphabet brings.