They are nothing like the dog I thought I was getting, they’re an absurd amount of work, and I loved the first one enough that I voluntarily went back for another

Before I got Zeus, I did my research.

I knew French Bulldogs could have health problems. I knew about the itchy skin. I knew about the farts. I had read the horror stories about things like IVDD and other injuries.

But there’s a funny thing that happens when you’re researching a dog breed.

You read the scary stories and think, Well, obviously that won’t be my dog.

I even had a friend whose English Bulldog had broken his leg.

Still, somehow, I thought:

Not my dog.

Then Zeus broke his leg.

Looking back, I wish I had understood just how fragile French Bulldogs can sometimes be and how quickly something can go wrong. But honestly, I don’t know that anything really prepares you for the big things.

Certainly not an article on the internet.

You don’t really understand what it’s like until it’s your dog and you’re the one worried sick about them.

But those aren’t actually the things I wish someone had warned me about.

The things that truly surprised me about living with French Bulldogs are the everyday things.

Because apparently I had a very different idea of what Frenchie ownership was going to look like.

I thought I was getting a fat, lazy little dog who would sleep all day and fart occasionally.

Then I got Zeus.

Then I got Electra.

And absolutely nothing has been peaceful since.

1. The Snoring Is LOUD

I knew French Bulldogs snored.

Everyone knows French Bulldogs snore.

What no one adequately explained to me was the volume.

There is snoring.

And then there is French Bulldog snoring.

These tiny dogs can produce noises that seem physically impossible given the size of the animal creating them.

You can hear them from another room.

You can hear them over the television.

You can lie there wondering how a creature that isn’t even particularly large has somehow transformed into a chainsaw.

So yes, you’ve probably heard that Frenchies snore.

I’m just telling you that whatever volume you’re imagining…

Turn it up.

2. French Bulldogs Are Destructive AF

I was not prepared for this.

I’ve had dogs before.

I’ve dealt with chewing before.

But I have never had dogs so completely committed to the destruction of household property.

My shoes?

Stolen.

Pillows?

Destroyed.

Anything accidentally left somewhere within Frenchie reach?

Potential victim.

And having two of them doesn’t exactly improve the situation.

Sometimes I look around the house and wonder whether Zeus and Electra spend their free time identifying our possessions and deciding which one they’ll destroy next.

They probably do.

I’ve already learned this lesson with their swimming pools.

Zeus didn’t see a pool.

Zeus saw a very large chew toy that happened to contain water.

Eventually we had to repurpose our son’s old hard-sided sandbox into a pool because apparently one of the requirements for anything we buy for Zeus is:

Can he eat it?

If the answer is yes, we’re going to need another option.

3. My House Is Basically WWE

I thought French Bulldogs were supposed to be lazy.

Someone needs to explain this to Zeus and Electra.

Those two dogs constantly play with each other.

And by “play,” I mean our house regularly looks like we’re hosting a WWE event that nobody purchased tickets for.

They’re wrestling.

They’re chasing each other.

They’re tackling each other.

They’re making bizarre noises.

Someone gets the zoomies.

Then the other one gets excited because the first one has the zoomies.

Now they both have the zoomies.

And suddenly two compact little wrecking balls are flying through the house at full speed.

Eventually they collapse.

For approximately five minutes.

Then we’re back to WrestleMania.

So if you’re imagining a Frenchie quietly sleeping beside you all day, I suppose that’s possible.

Mine apparently missed that memo.

4. No One Told Me How Much Puke I’d Be Cleaning Up

This one feels personal.

I have emetophobia.

I absolutely hate vomit.

It causes me genuine anxiety.

So naturally, I ended up with two dogs who occasionally seem determined to expose me to it as often as possible.

They eat too fast.

They drink too fast.

Then sometimes what just went down comes immediately back up.

There is nothing quite like trying to make breakfast while simultaneously dealing with French Bulldog puke.

Actually, that’s not true.

There is something worse.

Picture this:

It’s morning.

You’re sitting peacefully on the couch.

You’ve made your first cup of coffee.

The day has barely begun.

You’re enjoying those first beautiful, quiet moments before life really gets started.

Electra walks over.

And projectile vomits.

On you.

And into your coffee.

That actually happened.

There are moments in life when you question every decision that brought you to where you are.

Looking down at a cup of coffee containing Frenchie vomit is one of those moments.

No breed guide prepared me for that.

5. They’re Stubborn in Completely Different Ways

I knew French Bulldogs could be stubborn.

I don’t think I understood what that actually meant until I tried training them.

Electra, for the most part, is pretty easy to train.

Potty training was another story, and she will still occasionally have an accident, but generally she wants to cooperate.

Zeus?

Zeus is smart.

That’s not the problem.

The problem is that Zeus would also like to review the terms and conditions before agreeing to participate.

He’ll do something.

If he wants to.

When he wants to.

Assuming the compensation package is satisfactory.

I’ve had to learn that I can’t necessarily train Zeus and Electra exactly the same way. They’re two different dogs with two different personalities, and sometimes I need to change my approach depending on which Frenchie I’m working with.

Owning them has definitely taught me patience.

A lot of patience.

6. They Are Ridiculously High-Maintenance

I was not prepared for the sheer amount of stuff these dogs would eventually require.

Cold outside?

They need sweaters.

Hot outside?

Cooling vests.

Walking?

Special no-pull harnesses.

Eating?

Special food.

Eating too quickly?

Special feeding bowls.

Skin acting up?

Now we’re dealing with that.

Something irritates somebody’s stomach?

Time to figure that out.

There always seems to be something.

At some point you look around and realize your French Bulldogs have accumulated a wardrobe, specialized equipment, dietary requirements, and a personal-care routine that rivals your own.

I love them.

But let’s call this what it is.

They are high-maintenance.

Extremely cute, incredibly lovable, high-maintenance little creatures.

7. Two Frenchies Don’t Necessarily Mean Twice the Chaos

Sometimes it means ten times the chaos.

When we brought Electra home, we weren’t simply adding another dog.

We were giving Zeus a partner.

An accomplice.

Someone willing to participate in his ideas.

Someone who could invent entirely new bad ideas of her own.

If Zeus starts running, Electra runs.

If Electra gets excited, Zeus gets excited.

If one dog decides something interesting is happening, suddenly the other dog needs to be involved immediately.

They feed off each other’s energy.

Which is adorable.

Until you’re standing in the middle of your living room watching two French Bulldogs ricochet off the furniture.

The Biggest Thing Nobody Told Me

For all the things that surprised me, though, I think the biggest surprise was simply how much dog is packed into a French Bulldog.

I had this image in my head before Zeus came home.

Frenchies were going to be these chunky, sleepy little couch potatoes.

They’d nap.

They’d snore.

They’d fart.

We’d hang out.

And yes, Zeus and Electra absolutely do all of those things.

But they’re also energetic.

They’re stubborn.

They’re hilarious.

They’re destructive.

They’re sensitive.

They’re expensive.

They’re needy.

They’re smart.

They’re occasionally disgusting.

They’re surprisingly fragile.

And they have enormous personalities packed into those compact little bodies.

They have completely changed our house.

It’s louder.

It’s messier.

There are dog sweaters and special bowls and harnesses everywhere.

Occasionally a pillow dies.

Sometimes somebody pukes in my coffee.

And at any given moment there is a reasonable possibility that WrestleMania is about to break out in the living room.

They’re far more work than I expected when I decided I wanted a French Bulldog.

They’re also far more entertaining.

I thought I knew what I was getting when I brought Zeus home.

I absolutely did not.

And then, knowing all of this, I went and got Electra.

So I suppose that tells you everything you need to know.