I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human! Complaint!
Me: I’ll bet I know what it is, too. From the look on your face and the pffft sound from your mouth.
Stella: Why, oh why?
Me: Why is the cat on my lap?
Stella: No. My question is why is the cat on your lap all the time?
Me: I think she wants some extra comfort, companionship.
Stella: She can get that from across the room like normal.
Me: She’s not feeling normal just now.
Stella: She didn’t do that before Snoopey…oh.
Me: For whatever reason, she and Snoopey were best friends.
Stella: Well, that’s simply weird. Weird of Snoopey and weird of the cat. I never did understand that. Think about it. Cat. Self-explanatory. That says it all. And then bulldog. Everybody knows what that means. And one thing it doesn’t mean is friendship with cats.
Me: And still, there it was. Who else did Snoopey ever allow into her crate with her?
Stella: That’s easy. Nobody, because nobody else would fit in there with her. We are all bulldogs, remember?
Me: I never forget. Okay, who else other than the cat did Snoopey ever have a full-blown conversation with?
Me: Yeah. That’s true. Not that we understood each other well, but we did talk. A lot.
Stella: So you don’t mind that Moon the Cat is climbing onto your lap all the time. It’s fine with you.
Me: It’s all right. I understand why.
Stella: It’s not all right with me! It’s really ticking me off!
Me: Maybe you could consider becoming her new best friend.
Stella: Lady Human! I’m surprised at you! What ugly talk! I just want things to go back to normal, when bulldogs were bulldogs and Moon the Cat was her old arrogant, stand-offish, snooty self.
Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.