French Bulldogs have overtaken Labrador Retrievers as America’s most popular breed—and it’s easy to see why. Easygoing, affectionate, and irresistibly charming, they make friends wherever they go. Spotty, a charismatic Frenchie, recently traveled cross-country, winning hearts from California all the way to his Long Island home.
Spotty headed out from San Diego along the southern route near the Mexico border, where the landscape changed dramatically as he climbed into the Cuyamaca and Laguna Mountains. He wound through rocky passes with sharp ridges, dry brush, and huge boulders that looked ready to break free and roll across the highway. Descending below sea level, Spotty dropped into the Imperial Valley, a low desert basin. He overnighted in El Centro, where the arid landscape transforms into irrigated farmland growing the lettuce, tomatoes, and other vegetables that feed America.
Pushing into Arizona, Spotty crossed the Colorado River at Topock and ventured to the Grand Canyon, where he befriended an elk and admired the spectacular views from the South Rim. He continued through the pine forests and high desert terrain of the Kaibab National Forest, sniffing the cool, crisp air at 7,000 feet. After traveling 630 miles, Spotty bedded down in Gallup, New Mexico—the “Heart of Indian Country”—named for David L. Gallup, a paymaster for the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad in the late 1800s.
An early start took Spotty into Texas, where he gazed at oil rigs, wind farms, and vast pastures of cattle. He caught a pungent whiff of a feedlot packed with thousands of heads. They loved him at a truck stop along the Panhandle, where a friendly waitress rewarded him with a “pup cup” full of ice cream. Moving along, Spotty made it into Oklahoma and enjoyed pit stops on the open prairie before jogging north toward Missouri. At the state line, he was stopped by troopers under suspicion, of all things, of transporting drugs. He stood guard at a Red Roof Inn, which turned out to be in a pretty rough neighborhood in St. Louis.
Now known as the “King of the Road,” Spotty kept the pedal to the metal toward Ohio and stopped for a bite in Columbus, the state capital. Not resting on his laurels, he drove late into the night to Fort Washington, Pennsylvania, where he would stage his final push to New York and the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Traffic was heavy, so Waze rerouted him off the Belt Parkway through the Gateway National Recreation Area and the Rockaways—which he appreciated since he could take in the salty air along Ocean Parkway. After nearly 3,000 miles, Spotty almost got into an accident close to home at the Jones Beach traffic circle. Damned New York drivers!