The romance started in 1992 when, for the first time, my gaze fell into the eyes of a French bulldog pup. Being raised in a family without domestic animals, and having no exposure to such pets, the encounter was love at first sight. I persuaded my parents we should "just" have a look. On our way home, I realized I had neither a bed nor a dish for the pup on my knees, purchased with the money my boyfriend lent me. Immediately smitten, Mother called her "Pika" (little spot). Father had yet to familiarize himself with the unknown being. Before too long he had her sleeping on his bed. From then on none of her descendants ever left the comforts of our beds. To this day, Mother is in charge of spoiling them and I recognize that I am guilty of making the family bull-limic.