Sigh, Bulldogs

It's hard to be mad at them. It's usually a little easier to be mad at their owners (but not always). The breeders? Sure, I feel like they should know. But almost every day, the evidence suggests that no, the system that produces these atrocities of nature is up and running smoothly.

I've written before about the cruel medical reality of bulldogs. It's no secret their problems are unsolvable . For all that, they remain as popular as ever; the French Bulldog is now the #1 breed in America. They are simply too cute and buoyant for us to recognize the horror they manifest. They're wonderful dogs!

I've seen too many bulldogs die early and terrible deaths. Maybe it's a cause, maybe it's a consequence, but any respiratory case gets a mandatory discussion on euthanasia. Anyone who's felt even a brief moment of "air-hunger" knows the hideous flood of emotions- distress, panic- that you'll fall behind on survival's most pressing demand: oxygen.

Decreasing the functionality of an animal's respiratory system, on purpose, is so callous that it seems like it should merit international criminalization (we're not quite there yet). And we've done it to the friendliest and most loyal species we know! Dog breeding is one of our uniquely tragic endeavors. That I have to occasionally watch one of those animals gasping for breath in an oxygen cage is a stark reminder of how dangerous our love for others can be.

The existence of bulldogs is humans role-playing Lennie from Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men. We're literally killing them by making them more loveable. As a veterinarian, it's not usually helpful to judge. But it's hard to repress anger at such (seemingly) egregious negligence. This isn't true love, it's selfish, torturous indulgence.