The Big Tricky Ball of Meat – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Beware whenever a human offers you something that you really want. It may have something hidden inside.

Me:        Like the Trojan Horse.

Stella:    No one has ever offered me a horse. What would I do with it? Could I ride it? I don’t think so.

Me:        No, the Trojan Horse is from an old, old human story. It wasn’t a real horse. It was a hollow statue of a horse that had enemy soldiers hidden inside.

Stella:    Just like the Big Tricky Ball of Meat you offered me last night. You thought that I wouldn’t figure it out. But I did. You hid a nasty-tasting medicine pill in what otherwise was a delicious ball of salmon.

Me:        So, you tasted that after all. I should have made the salmon ball bigger.

Stella:    You admit it! A trick to get me to eat medicine.

Me:        Would you have eaten it without the meat?

Stella:    Of course not.

Me:        Everybody else did.

Stella:    Sillies. They have no sense of taste.

Me:        Do you know what the medicine was?

Stella:    No. Nor do I care.

Me:        It was flea and tick preventative.

Stella:    Flea. Tick. You mean those crawlies that bite and chew and… itch and ITCH AND ITCH!!!

Me:        Yep. Nasty-tasting pill doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?

Stella:    Mmmmm. Still a trick. Next time, better make that salmon ginormous.

Me:        Won’t that tip you off?

Stella:    Yeah, but I won’t care.



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.


It’s My Birthday! Here’s My List! – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Today is my birthday. Today is also my sister Snoopey’s birthday, but that is not important. What is important is that it is getting late and I have yet to see any of the things on my birthday list.

Me:        Well, I think y’all have had a pretty good day. For one thing, I did not dress you up in birthday hats.

Stella:    Yes, we did appreciate that greatly.

Me:        And there was special food that was designed not to make you throw up.

Stella:    Also, greatly appreciated. Still, here is my wish list.

Me:        An indoor full bathroom for each of you?

Stella:    I will settle for an indoor bathroom just for me. The others can fend for themselves.

Me:        A fully cooked, smoked brisket?

Stella:    What’s the problem? You like brisket, don’t you?

Me:        For every meal, every day?

Stella:    That should be easy enough. We’re in Texas, aren’t we?

Me:        This is a very long list. I am not going to read all of it, but what’s this at the bottom?

Stella:    Self-explanatory, as the humans say.

Me:        A machine gun?

Stella:    Like in those old human Picture Box shows. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Me:        Why do you need a machine gun?

Stella:    The Squirrel War.

Me:        Short answer – no. Long answer – no.

Stella:    Not fair.

Me:        If you were a squirrel, you would disagree.

Stella:    If I were a squirrel…ewww, yuck! What a horrible idea! Are you trying to ruin my birthday?


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Who’s A Good Boy? I Don’t Care! – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Humans have annoying habits. I plan to make a long list of them some day. Lady Human has the annoying habit of telling Doodlebug what a ‘good boy’ he is. Over and over again, she says, ‘Who’s a good boy?’ As Doodlebug is the only boy dog here, the answer is obvious. The question need not be asked. If there is a good boy, it has to be Doodlebug. Nobody else qualifies.

Me:        What’s wrong with encouraging Doodlebug with some positive words? So, I call him a ‘good boy’ when he does what he is told.

Stella:    Tell me, Lady Human, what great feat did he perform to merit all this praise? Did he save human or dog lives? Did he climb a mighty mountain or swim across a sea? Did he bake enough treats for all of us to have our fill?

Me:        Well, no. Not any of those things.

Stella:    Why is he such a ‘good boy’ then?

Me:        He stopped rampaging when I asked him. And he went into his crate when it was time for me to go to the store. And…

Stella:    Woo-hoo! Good boy, Doodlebug!

Doodlebug:   I know.

Stella:    You know, don’t you, ‘good boy’,that cooperation goes against everything we bulldogs stand for.

Me:        Don’t I tell you that you are a good girl?

Stella:    Not nearly often enough.

Me:        Good girl.

Stella:    Well, yeah.

Me:        Aw, Stella, who’s a good girl?

Stella:    I am?

Me:        You had better believe it, good girl!

Stella:    I am a good girl. Take that, Doodlebug! I am a good girl!

Doodlebug:   I know. And I’m a good boy. What’s the big deal?



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

ALERT! Squirrel “Rain” of Terror – Conversations with Stella

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, hereby issue this ALERT to all people and dogs everywhere.

Me:        I think that may extend a little beyond your reach.

Stella:    Everyone must be warned for their own safety! This afternoon, while I was outside minding my own business and taking care of my own business, if you know what I mean…

Me:        I do. Please go on.

Stella:    All of a sudden, I was bombed from above!

Me:        Bombed?

Stella:    I couldn’t see the perpetrator, but I knew who it was!

Me:        Perpetrator?

Stella:    My arch nemesis. My eternal enemy.

Me:        Don’t tell me. Let me guess.

Stella:    Exactly. Jerky McSquirrelyFace. Who else could have targeted me?

Me:        Yeah, he targeted all of us, including me.

Stella:    His stealth and arrogance know no bounds. Poor little green pecans. They are giving their lives for nothing. He doesn’t even eat all of them, but throws their half-eaten shells on our heads to taunt us.

Me:        Well, I wouldn’t say ‘for nothing’. They are feeding the squirrels.

Stella:    Squirrels? You mean it’s not just Jerky?

Me:        Did you see how fast they were coming down? He had help.

Stella:    Then it is time to form the Anti-Squirrel Bulldog Army. Jerky’s rain of nuts must end. To be continued…

Me:        If you say so.



This is a photograph of Jerky from a year ago. Anyone spotting this squirrel should contact their local anti-squirrel agency. Do not attempt to approach him alone! He will throw nuts at you!


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Bulldog Rampage – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and here we are again at the Bulldog Rampage. I will be calling the action except for when I am chasing the cat. Coming out of the chute in order are…

Me:        Whoah! Bulldog Rampage? Not again!

Stella:    Of course, again. All right, everybody get ready. Lady Human interrupted. In order, here they come! Sweetie, Wiggles, Doodlebug, Snoopey…Snoopey…Snoopey!

Snoopey:   What?

Stella:    Rampage time!

Snoopey:   Nope.

Stella:    Why not?

Snoopey:   I’m tired.

Tiger:   You can leave me out, too. I refuse to rampage with Snoopey.

Stella:    Didn’t you hear? Snoopey is sitting out.

Tiger:   Well, in that case, I’m really sitting out. She’s not better than me.

Stella:    Fine! Here they come! Sweetie, Wiggles, Doodlebug! And me! Where is that cat?

Miss Sweetie:   Up on Tall Man’s chair! Now up on the couch! Run! Run! Uh-oh!

Stella:    Sweetie is off to a fast start with two pieces of furniture under her belt and a great sideways floor slide. Scrambling back up on her feet, she’s made it to the trash in the kitchen!

Me:        Noooo!

Stella:    Meanwhile, Doodlebug got off to a slow start, but he is making up for it by head slinging drool all across the room as he runs. Not missing a beat! Great distribution! Now where’s that cat?

Me:        She heard you coming. Rampaging is hard to hide.

Stella:    Wiggles is bringing up the rear, but she is well into her comma dancing. Real style! She shows that a bulldog does not have to jump on furniture, dig in the trash, or sling drool to rampage.

Wiggles:   Trash? There’s trash? Let me at it!

Me:        Whoah again! My legs are standing here!

Miss Sweetie:   Beep! Beep! I haven’t jumped on your chair yet! Woo-hoo!

Doodlebug:   Awww. I’m all out of drool. Let me lick my way through.

Me:        Noooo! Wet everywhere!

Stella:    Not a problem, Lady Human. It will dry. Now, where’s that cat?



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.









Potty Mouths – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, hereby decree that potty mouths will no longer be tolerated in my kingdom which includes the hallway, the utility room, the kitchen, the den, and, of course, the human bathrooms.

Me:        Potty mouths?

Stella:    Is that not the correct human term?

Me:        It is a human term, but what do you mean by it?

Stella:    Touching nasty things with your mouth and thereby getting a dirty mouth. Isn’t that the human meaning?

Me:        Not exactly. Potty mouth to us has more to do with what comes out of our mouths than what goes into them.

Stella:    That, too! Have you seen Sweetie’s water bowl today? That dirt didn’t just jump in there all by itself. Bottom line, no more potty mouths. Bulldogs, if you see something on the floor, that is not an invitation to eat it. Only eat food. That will save a lot of trouble right there.

Tiger:     What if it smells good?

Stella:    Is it food?

Tiger:     No.

Stella:    Then don’t eat it.

Snoopey:   What if it smells bad and, therefore, smells good?

Stella:    Is it food?

Snoopey:   Probably not.

Stella:    Snoopey, really?

Snoopey:   Just checking.

Doodlebug:   What if food falls on the floor? Because I’m eating that no matter what.

Stella:    Food on the floor is all right to eat.

Miss Sweetie:    Food on the floor and blobs of dirt outside look the same to me. Can I still eat blobs of dirt?

Stella:    Sweetie, are blobs of dirt food?

Miss Sweetie:   They are if I eat them.

Stella:    Aaaaggghhh! Sweetie, that’s what is adding to the potty mouth situation. Don’t eat dirt and your water bowls will be cleaner. Look at my bowl. There is hardly ever any dirt in it.

Wiggles:   Why should we care? We don’t have to clean our bowls. Lady Human does that. If our bowls are always clean, what will she have to do?

Stella:    I can always find something else.




Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

And So…It Begins Again – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I found the evidence in the yard today, evidence that waves in my face like a red flag in front of a bull, whatever that means. I heard one of the humans say it. I quote humans when they say words that sound interesting, even if they make no sense.

The evidence speaks for itself though it has no mouth. And so, once again, it begins.

Me:        All right. This time I am totally confused. What begins once again? What evidence speaks for itself?

Stella:    War.

Me:        I beg your pardon.

Stella:    Granted.

Me:        No, I mean, what war?

Stella:    Well, then you should have said so. Of course, you are confused. Humans live that way.

Me:        Stella, what war?

Stella:    The war between me and Jerky McSquirrelyFace. He has returned. I found the evidence this morning. A green pecan on the ground, chewed in half, cut down in its prime. I know his MO.

Me:        Where did you hear about MO?

Stella:    On the source of human stupidity – the Picture Box, naturally. Jerky starts small and then BOOM! He eats ALL the green pecans, leaving none for the rest of us! If that is not an act of squirrel war, what is? Get ready, Lady Human. It is going to be a long, hot summer. CHARGE!


Me:        Can I just sit this one out in the air conditioning?

Stella:    Lady Human, for shame!

Me:        I don’t really have to pick up pecans. I can always go to the store.

Stella:    Fine! Just turn over every pecan tree in the world to the squirrels. Who will have pecan pie then?



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Elephant Walk – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. The earth rumbles. The trees shake. What is coming? Boom! Boom! Boom! Is it a monster? Is it a giant?

Me:        Is this the start of one of your new stories?

Stella:    No. Shhhh! Listen!

Me:        Sorry.

Stella:    Where was I? Oh, yeah. Is it a monster? Is it a giant? Trees fall in its path. Plants collapse beneath its weight. It is…Sweetie, the Giant Bulldog Forest Crusher!


Me:        What?

Stella:    She flattens forests! Wild animals flee at her approach!

Me:        Really? I hadn’t noticed.

Stella:    Look! Look at the plants! She steps on them and down they go!

Me:        Well, some of the lamb’s quarter is broken. No great loss. There’s plenty more.

Stella:    Sweetie makes her own paths. Like those big gray animals on the Picture Box, the ones with the noses like your water hose when it goes nuts and swings around like a loose snake.

Me:        Elephants.

Stella:    If you say so. Sweetie is a bulldog elephant. If anyone needs a new road or path, just tell Sweetie. She will plow it for you.

Me:        I’ll keep that in mind.

Stella:    Everything crashes in front of her.

Me:        If you say so.

Stella:    I do say so.

Me:        Funny that so many plants are still standing in the yard if she is such a bulldozer.

Stella:    Bulldozer? What is a bulldozer?

Me:        A bulldog on wheels.

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Am I a Runt? – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. For an Olde English Bulldogge, I am small. I am lightweight. I am scrawny. I am a runt.

Me:        Nope., nope, and nope.

Stella:    So, I am not a runt.

Me:        I don’t know.

Stella:    So, I am a runt.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    I am confused.

Me:        Were you the runt of your litter? I don’t know. At this point in our lives, I have no way of knowing and I don’t care. I heard a rumor that you and Tiger’s mom were pretty tough in your day. When you were together. Maybe you joined up with her because you were smaller. I don’t know.

Stella:    I remember Tiger’s mom. She was strong. I felt safe when I was with her.

Me:        That happens.

Stella:    Even with humans?

Me:        Yep. All the time. Humans find a way to cope. I have a cousin. He was smaller than the other boys in school. He learned to make them laugh and the bullies left him alone.

Stella:    Your cousin was bullied by bulldogs?

Me:        No, my cousin was bullied by humans until he used his humor as a shield against them. He made them laugh. They left him alone.

Stella:    Human bullies? How?

Me:        Humans have more in common with bulldogs than you might think.

Stella:    I was the runt.

Me:        Maybe. Does it matter now?

Stella:    I don’t know.

Me:        When I watch you with the other bulldogs, they always come and check on you, check with you. They don’t ignore you. If you are a runt in their eyes, why do they pay you so much attention?

Stella:    I am not mean to them.

Me:        You see. That’s how you became their queen. They need someone they can rely on. Snoopey is reliable. She is the pack leader, but she is tense a whole lot of the time. You are calmer. They don’t care how much you weigh.

Stella:    How much do I weigh?

Me:        About 50 pounds, give or take.

Stella:    How much does Sweetie weigh?

Me:        81.5 pounds.

Stella:    Uuuggghhh!

Me:        Yeah. Don’t let her sit on you.



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.




You Never Asked for a Purple-Headed Dog – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I am brown and white and… purple.

Me:        You had an abrasion on your head and we sprayed some antiseptic on it. No biggie. The purple lets us know where the spray went.

Stella:     What’s an abrasion?

Me:         A scratch.

Stella:     Oh, yeah. I felt that. That’s still no good reason to spray purple on someone’s head. I am a purple head.

Me:        No, you’re not. It’s just one small spot. And a few other little spots you got when you jerked your head away. It will wash off.

Stella:    Snuffle. I am a purple head.

Me:        The spot is already healing. Your hair is growing back.

Stella:    My hair is growing back purple.

Me:        No, it’s not. Well, maybe a little. But it will wash out. And purple is a nice color.

Stella:    Not for a bulldog.

Me:        You are still brown and white. Do you know that, when I asked God for a dog I could help and be good to, I envisioned a brown and white dog?

Stella:    A bulldog like me?

Me:        No. I had never met a bulldog. In my mind, I saw a pointy muzzle, a little dog.

Stella:    Not like me at all?

Me:        No, not like you at all.

Stella:    Awwww, then I am a mistake and not what you prayed for.

Me:        Not true, Stella. You are exactly what I asked for. I just didn’t know it until later. You came a couple of months after that prayer. You weren’t what I expected. I didn’t recognize you as an answer to prayer. At first. But then, with time, as I got to know you, I realized…

Stella:    …that I was an answer from the Great Creator.

Me:        Yes. But don’t get a big head over it. The LORD has used a talking donkey for His purposes before.

Stella:    Well then, He can certainly use a bulldog. Of course, He can. We are a lot easier to work with than jackasses.



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Keep Your Nose to Yourself – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. As reigning queen, you would think that others would show respect for my quiet times, especially that greatest of all bulldog practices, the nap. But oh no! I am snoozing peaceably, my dreams of chasing squirrels swirling in my sleepy head, and what to my wondering face should appear but Doodlebug’s big wet mug, sniffing and snuffling, and how can anybody sleep with that going on? LEAVE ME ALONE!

Me:        You know that Doodlebug loves you. He is always checking on you to make sure you’re okay when you’re sleeping. It’s what happened yesterday that bothered me.

Stella:    Nothing happened yesterday. I did have the most wonderful Flying Stella dream and then, all of a sudden, you woke me up by scratching on my neck. So rude!

Me:        Because Doodlebug passed you on his way out the door, sniffed your face, went to the door, and then ran back to sniff you again. Like something was wrong. After I got him out the door, I went to check on you. You had not batted an eye. I touched the side of your face. You were cool. Still you didn’t move at all. So, I started scratching your neck and you jumped awake. Thank the LORD! Why didn’t you wake up?

Stella:    BECAUSE I WAS SLEEPING! How would you like it if a huge, wet, slobbery, drooly mouth greeted you in your bed?

Me:        It happens to me routinely.

Stella:    Everyone should keep their noses to themselves. Even you with your dry human nose, Lady Human.




Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.



Dog Days – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and, as Queen, I have the authority to declare this: IT IS HOT!!!

Me:        Yep, if you say so, it’s official. The Dog Days of Summer have begun. You know how I knew it.

Stella:    Because it is hot?

Me:        Well, that, and I found Wiggles and Sweetie down in the hole y’all have dug under the picnic table.

Stella:    Because it is hot.

Me:        95 degrees at dusk. I guess that qualifies.

Stella:    Dog Days. Why can’t the Dog Days be pleasant? Why must Dog Days be hot? Not fair!

Me:        Some people count them from the rising of Sirius, the Dog Star, at dawn…

Stella:    Wait! There is a star that‘s a dog? Why didn’t you tell me? Can we go visit him? Where is he? Show me! This is great! I always suspected there were dogs out there.

Me:        It’s not a dog, honey. It’s just called that because it is the brightest star in a constellation that reminded ancient people of a dog. Like a picture in the sky made by stars.

Stella:    Ancient people? Just where are these ancient people because I have some questions.

Me:        They’re not around for your questions. Sorry.

Stella:    Typical. Humans playing with dogs’ hopes and dreams again. I don’t think these Dog Days have anything to do with us at all. Hmmmph! If these are true Dog Days, where are the treats and toys?





Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

The Great Stuffie Experiment UPDATE ALERT – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. THIS IS AN URGENT UPDATE ALERT. Lady Human’s efforts to make an indestructible bulldog toy have FAILED! What a terrible disaster!

Me:        Not terrible, not a disaster, and not failed. I haven’t given up yet. Here is our current progress toward the indestructible bulldog stuffie toy.



Stella:    That looks horrible! Why did you put holes in it when you made it?

Me:        I didn’t. She tore those after only 15 minutes of constant bulldog attention.

Stella:    Please put the poor stuffed toy out of its misery.

Me:        Actually, I am going to cut a shell a little larger but in the same shape to add an extra layer. That will make 3 layers of fabric with the same amount of stuffing. She has not yet busted a seam, just torn the material. Of course, she only had it for a few minutes.

Stella:    Putting an extra layer on will make it bigger?

Me:        Yes, a little.

Stella:    And if she tears a hole in that?

Me:        I may try a fourth layer.

Stella:    And then another. And another. And so, it keeps growing larger and larger and larger. And suddenly, there will be no room in the house. The stuffie toy will take over and we will have to move into the yard!

Me:        Stella.

Stella:    And Sweetie won’t be able to fit it into her mouth, so she will start chewing up other things. Like the fence, and then all the animals of the creek will come running in and squirrels…SQUIRRELS OVERRUNNING US!

Me:        Stella! Stop! Your overactive imagination is what’s overrunning us. We have talked about this before. Calm down.

Stella:    Calm? How can I be calm when you are creating stuffed animals that will take over the world?

Me:        I can tell that it’s going to be a long week.


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Welcome to The Bulldog Cafe – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges and proprietor of The Bulldog Café.

Me:        The Bulldog Café? Is that a real thing?

Stella:    Of course. On the menu tonight is Victor Adult Dog food. It comes in a big yellow bag. It does not make you sick and our skin is fine so I guess it is okay. I used to eat a food that gave me lots of bad gas…

Me:        Wait. You are running a café? Don’t talk about bad gas and skin problems.

Stella:    What else should bulldogs talk about? When it comes to food, only the very best and that means stuff that doesn’t give you gas or make your skin itch and your hair fall out. Now where was I before I was so RUDELY interrupted? Oh, yes…on our menu tonight, popcorn.

Me:        No.

Stella:    How can I run a café without desserts and snacks?

Me:        No popcorn.

Stella:    Just a little bit.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    But…but…but…

Me:        I am not saying never. I am saying not tonight. I’ll do more research.

Stella:    Research besmirch. You humans and your little black boxes and your fingers tapping, tapping, tapping. On our menu tonight, ice cream.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Why ever not?

Me:        I don’t have any and I have to do…

Stella:    I know. I know. More research. Leave it to a human to make everything complicated and unfun. So, what’s left? Oh, yes. On our menu tonight – plain water. There! Does that make you happy, Lady Human?

Me:        Well, it doesn’t make me unhappy. In fact, I’ll have some with you. Water is healthy.

Stella:    Yippee! So much for The Bulldog Café. I can’t wait to see our ratings on Yelp. Phhhuuuhhh!


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill

The Great Stuffie Experiment – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and a collector of stuffed animals just like Lady Human. Today, Lady Human presented Miss Sweetie with a replacement for her late stuffed chicken toy, may it rest in peace.

Me:        I would have had it to her yesterday, but I messed it up and had to turn it inside out and restuff it.

Stella:    Why did you mess it up?

Me:        I didn’t try to. I was watching a TV show…

Stella:    Wait. Were you watching a nighttime movie without us?

Me:        Not then. That came later.

Stella:    I knew it. So you messed up Miss Sweetie new stuffie because you were paying attention to the silly Picture Box. I told you that the Picture Box was a menace.

Me:        You look at it all the time. Sometimes you seem to like it.

Stella:    What do I know? I am a dog.

Me:        Well, here goes. Hey, Sweetie!


Stella:    She loves it. Look at her go.

Me:        The main thing is that she not be able to eat it.

Miss Sweetie:    Is this my chickee? It doesn’t look like my chickee. It doesn’t smell like my chickee.

Me:        No, this is a new toy. Do you like it?

Miss Sweetie:    Gumm…yumm…nyawgh. It is not my chickee, but it is soft. I think it likes me.

Me:        We will watch to make sure the seams don’t come undone. The stuffing is the same material as the shell. No more fiber stuffing for Sweetie.

Stella:    Oh, look. Sweetie just found more stuffing in the couch.

Me:        Sweetie! No! Where is your new stuffie? Don’t you like it?

Miss Sweetie:    I like him fine. He is taking a nap while I chew on the couch.


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

How Do You Replace a Beloved Stuffie? – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    Whatcha doin’?

Me:        Hello, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Stella:    Don’t change the subject. Whatcha doin’?

Me:        Nothin’.

Stella:    All right. I asked politely. I am a dog, but I am not stupid. It is obvious that you are doing something. You have cloth on your lap and it is not clothing, or a blanket, or a napkin. So now I am demanding an answer as your queen…

Me:        MY Queen?

Stella:    What are you doing?


Me:        I am attempting the impossible. I bought material today to put together an indestructible bulldog toy to replace Miss Sweetie’s stuffed chicken…Stella? Stella?

Stella:    Hahahahahaha! Wait…I am catching my breath…Hahahahahahahahaha!

Me:        Don’t you see that it would be better for her to have a soft toy she will like but will not be able to pull apart and swallow?

Stella:    Yes. Hahahahahahahaha! Indestructible and bulldog never fit in the same sentence. How many years do you plan on devoting to this impossible task?

Me:        Not years. A few days, off and on when I have time.

Stella:    Days? Hahahahahahahahahahaha!

Me:        Well, thank you for your support.

Stella:    You are welcome. I have all kinds of plans for how you should spend your time. First, buy me treats.

Me:        You have treats.

Stella:    I need more. Second, feed me my treats.

Me:        Takes a couple of seconds, that’s it.

Stella:    Third, scratch me and massage my shoulders until I say ‘stop’.

Me:        Which is one word that you will never say, so pretty much the rest of our lives.

Stella:    What’s the problem? It’s more fun than sewing some toy for Sweetie that she is going to destroy in a few minutes, isn’t it?

Me:        Mmmm. I’m going to have to think about that. Still, I bought all this fabric…

Stella:    I’ve been wanting a hoodie for cold weather camping.

Me:        Mmmm. 5 months or so. That might just about give me enough time. But Sweetie is without her toy. I feel sorry for her.

Stella:    Never feel sorry for a spoiled bulldog. They will control you forever. Now, scratch my belly!


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.





Humans are Idiots – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    What was that?

Me:        No “I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges” announcement…

Stella:    No! Lady Human, this is serious. What was that noise?

Me:        Some people are shooting off fireworks. And guns. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. It’s a big celebration day. Remember. We talked about this before.

Stella:    The noises were never so loud before. This sounds like those lightning storms that crack the sky.

Me:        The explosions do sound closer this year. We must have some new neighbors.

Stella;    This is not neighborly! This is rude! And dangerous.

Me:        Yes. A neighbor not too far away found a spent bullet on their front porch this morning.

Stella:    Noooo! What if their dog had been sitting there?

Me:        Or their child?

Stella:    Why do humans do such things?

Me:        We’ve talked about this before, too, remember? Humans are idiots. Not all of us. And not all the time. But quite a few of us a lot of the time. A few years before you came, we had a roofing contractor out and he found two bullet holes in our roof. Bullets that had fallen from the sky, probably from miles away.

Stella:    Lady Human, you are not making me feel any better.

Me:        Bottom line, those bullets hit our roof and we did not know a thing about it. God covered us that night. I pray that He does every night.

Stella:    So we can go outside?

Me:        The Great Creator does not invite us to be foolish. We will stay in tonight.

Stella:    Look at Snoopey. She is the bravest among us and she is so scared right now.

Me:        I will take care of Snoopey. She is coming back to my room and we will watch a movie and maybe sing a quiet song.

Stella:    Hey, no fair. You are going to have a Fourth of July party without us?

Me:        No, we are going to have a nice, quiet evening where nothing extraordinary happens. No fear. No harm. Happy Fourth of July, Stella.

Stella:    Thank the Great Creator for me that we have a roof to cover us.

Me:        Amen.

Stella:    Why doesn’t the cat get scared?

Me:         Cat.

Stella:     Oh yeah. No fair.

He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust: His truth shall be thy shield and buckler.  Psalm 91:4 KJV


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.



Tight Places – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. It was a dark and stormy morning. Rain rattled the windows as I set off for my special rainy-day bathroom spot by the driveway in the side yard. I entered the shadowy garage. Suddenly, the way before me stood blocked.

Me:        Not really. Substantially narrowed, I’ll grant, but still passable.

Stella:    Are you a bulldog?

Me:        No, I think we have established that.

Stella:    Try to see it from my point of view. To the left of me lurked a barrel monster, menacing my every step.

Me:        Not a barrel monster. That is the same short grill that has been there every day that it hasn’t been in use.

Stella:    Once again, Lady Human, try to see it from my point of view. Bulldog. Wide. Remember. To my right and squeezing my path was an I-don’t-know-what. It was huge, towering above me, threatening to crush me if I tried to pass by.

Me:        That is a large cardboard box. Tall Man has to cut it up before he can put it in the recycling bin. Did you notice that you were able to pass between those two impassable objects?

Stella:    Only after you led the way.

Me:        A lesson for all of us. Why were you willing to follow my lead when you weren’t willing to go on your own?

Stella:    I don’t want to say.

Me:        Was it because you trust me?

Stella:    I don’t want to say.

Me:        Aw, Stella, I’m touched.

Stella:    Yeah, you would have been touched if that tall box had fallen on you. In narrow places, always let somebody else to go first.



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.