No Screeching, Please! – Conversations with Stella

The Olde English Bulldogge known as Stella has a bone to pick with me so we’ll begin our conversation:

Stella:   Bone? Where’s a bone?

Me:        There is no bone. That’s just a human expression.

Stella:   Oh, as usual, humans playing jokes, trying to fool the poor old bulldogs. First dressing up as giant insects, now teasing us with non-existent bones.

Me:        Let’s not get into that giant insect thing again. I had hoped that you had forgotten about that.

Stella:   A giant insect does not fade from the memory.

Me:        Obviously not.

Stella:   I thought you had seen one and that is why you were screeching.

Me:        Screeching? I haven’t screeched about anything. What are you talking about?

Stella:   That horrible, high-pitched noise that was coming out of your mouth this morning. It hurt my ears so much; I wanted to cover them up.

Me:        I haven’t been screeching, Stella. I don’t know what you are talking about….unless…I found an old songbook that I had when I was little and I was singing out of it.

Stella:   Is a songbook one of those dead flat things that you hold on your lap and stare at and it causes you to pay no attention to us?

Me:        Well, yes, that or a regular book or a cell phone or a computer…

Stella:   Just because you found an old, dead songbook that you had when you were a puppy is no reason to screech in our ears over it.

Me:        Did my singing bother the others, too?

Stella:   Who cares? It bothered me.

Me:        I am sorry. I do enjoy singing sometimes.

Stella:   I enjoy chewing on a good stick sometimes, but I don’t pretend to be one of those humans who…Awwwww, you know, they take sticks and build boxes and stuff.

Me:        A carpenter? A craftsman?

Stella:   Yeah, those, I guess.

Me:        I don’t pretend to be a singer. And as for screechy noises, how about that voice you use that is so high-pitched and ear-splitting.

Stella:   You mean the Cat Chasing Song of my people.

Me:        Is that what you call it? It’s a bulldog song?

Stella:   It tells the bulldogs within ear range that there’s a cat afoot and it’s time to play.

Me:        So why are you allowed to sing all screechy and I am not?

Stella:   My song serves a purpose; yours, not so much.

Me:        Maybe we should both agree to cover our ears when the other one is “singing”.

Stella:   Or we can agree that you will sing silently in your head or buy a good recording of your songs. My song must be sung live and aloud. It is a treasured bulldog tradition.

Me:        Is that why you keep “singing” when I ask you to stop?

Stella:   You wouldn’t want to interfere with a tradition, would you?

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

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