Month: September 2018

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hmmmph!

Me:   Oh, all right! I’ll bite. What’s the matter?

Stella:    Hmmmph! Don’t you know?

Me:        I am not a mind-reader.

 

Stella:    Why not? If your human brain is so big, why can’t you read my mind?

Me:        Thankfully, the LORD does not hand out that ability willy-nilly. It’s something I am glad that I can’t do.

Stella:    Who is Willy-Nilly? Is he a bulldog? Have we met him?

Me:        Nope. Just another human expression.

Stella:    Do humans ever stop making these things up?

Me:        Nope. Anyway, I think I have guessed why you are sulking even without reading your mind.

Stella:    Are you going to make me stop sulking? Because I don’t want to stop. It feels good to sulk.

Me:        Yeah, I know. Self-pity can feel good sometimes, like scratching an itch.

Stella:    Itch? I have one of those, too. Right here. Excuse me…

Me:        You were upset that I spent so much time away from the house the past few days. Well, we are back to normal. There was a pen show and I went both days, plus some people wanted to meet at restaurants to eat.

Stella:    A pen show? You’ve done that before. How many times can silly humans meet about pens? Aren’t those the sticks you use to scratch on paper? How can that be more important than spending time with bulldogs?

Me:        Oh, that’s a funny thing. There was a bulldog at the show. And a chihuahua. And a Yorkie.

Stella:    Oh. I see.

Me:        I knew it was a mistake to mention that as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

Stella:    I thought I detected the odor of strange dogs.

Me:        Well, they certainly detected the odor of you all.

Stella:    Are you sure you were not at a dog show?

Me:        Yep. Pretty sure. It was definitely a pen show.

Stella:    A pen show with dogs. Hmmmph.

Me:        Oh, Stella. It’s over now anyway for a whole ‘nother year.

Stella:    A year. I don’t know how long that is. Maybe I’ll be over my sulk by then, but it’s doubtful. Hmmmph.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. SHHHHH!

Tiger:     We should do something.

Miss Sweetie:    What are they?

Stella:    I think I have seen this before, but I don’t remember where or when.

Wiggles:   We can take them in a rush. One…two…three…

Doodlebug:   No! Stop! They are tall, and they have big mouths, as big as ours. Watch them. See if they move.

Stella:    Maybe I should say something to them.

Tiger:     No! Don’t talk to them! That will only encourage them!

Miss Sweetie:    I will charge them by myself!

Stella:    No, Sweetie. Be patient. They look familiar. They are kind of shaped like Lady Human’s feet.

Tiger:     Lady Human has never had anything on her feet that ugly before.

Doodlebug:   What if they start coming our way?

Stella:    Stick together. Wait for the signal and then we’ll…

Me:        Hey, y’all! Good evening!

Stella:    Lady Human! Look out! They showed up when we weren’t looking.

Me:        Oh, I know. They are my new rubber boots. I got tired of my good shoes getting muddy and messed up on rainy days, and there seem to be a lot of those this year.

Stella:    What! You scared us silly over some stuff to keep your feet dry?

Me:        They may have scared you. If they did, I am sorry. But as for silly, you all were silly already.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Do you hear it, Lady Human? There is a bulldog on the roof and you need to bring whoever it is down right now!

Me:        I hear it, girl, but it’s not a bulldog.

Stella:    I know a bulldog when I hear one. Raarr rarr raaarrr!

Me:        No, it sounds like a bulldog, but it is something else.

Stella:    I can see on the roof. Wait. No, I can’t. I’m too short. Let me move back. Okay. I see it. It is a big, weird, brown bulldog that is turning around a little now and again.

Me:        Stella, does that really look like a bulldog to you?

Stella:    Yes. No. Maybe.

Me:        That moaning, growling sound is coming from one of our roof vents. Something has jammed it or knocked it out of kilter and it’s not spinning freely.

Stella:    Why would spinny things be on our roof?

Me:        They help ventilate the crawl space under the roof.

Stella:    We have a “crawl space”. Why haven’t I seen it? I can crawl!

Me:        Believe me, it’s not suitable for bulldogs.

Stella:    Well, tell that spinny thing to stop imitating a bulldog. It’s annoying.

Me:        Yes, it is. We’ll take care of it. Until it’s fixed, you’ll only hear it when the wind kicks up.

Stella:    Then tell the wind to stop kicking it! Who does the wind think it is anyway?

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. This is my realm. Is that the right word, Lady Human? Realm?

Me:        Yeah, that’s fine.

Stella:    Today a non-bulldog has invaded my realm and we are not amused.

Me:        Hey, you borrowed that from Queen Victoria. Very clever.

Stella:    Borrowed what? We are not amused.

Me:        I know what you’re going to complain about. It’s no big deal.

Stella:    An invasion is no big deal?

Me:        There’s no invasion…

Stella:    Then what is that?

Me:        That is one…I repeat…one of the silkie chickens. She has a problem. She is going to sleep inside the house tonight.

Stella:    No, this is bulldog territory!

Me:        Well, and human territory. And parakeet territory. And cat territory.

Stella:    NO! My point exactly! Let just one non-bulldog inside the house and pretty soon the whole house is filled with non-bulldogs.

Me:        Excuse me for pointing this out, but this is a human house built by humans for humans and we invited you all in.

Stella:    Hey, we are five bulldogs to your two humans. Whose house is whose? We rule.

Me:        No, that’s not the way this works.

Stella:    Why is a chicken in the house?

Me:        This one silkie is not feeling well. She is getting some supplements that are helping, but with her in the house, I can keep a better eye on her. Hopefully, she will be all better within a few days.

Stella:    A few days? Is that what she told you?

Me:        She didn’t tell me a thing. Chickens are flock birds. They don’t like being alone without the others. Believe me, she is going to be happier to get back out in the chicken run with her flock than you are going to be happy to have her outside again.

Stella:    I doubt that. Bulldogs, hear ye! Hear ye! The fluffy chicken will be with us for a short…SHORT…time. Leave her be. Don’t try to eat her food or drink her water. We have our own.

Doodlebug:   I like chicken feed.

Miss Sweetie:    They kick some out to me sometimes and it’s like a snack.

Wiggles:   Will she be laying eggs? Because I LOVE eggs. And egg shells. And anything that has been around eggs.

Tiger:     I love chicken!

Me:        No, absolutely not!

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I am a bulldog and flat out proud of it!

Me:        That’s not a bad thing, to be proud of who you are. Not in an arrogant way, but content. Good for you! Now what is it about being a bulldog that you are proud of.

Stella:    Well…you know…bulldog.

Me:        But what specifically about being a bulldog makes you proud?

Stella:    Well…you know…for one thing, we are stubborn. We dig our feet in and we stay put. Unless we don’t want to or change our minds and then we don’t stay put, but at least we are stubborn about that, too. Dig in! Don’t move! Or move! Do what you want!

Me:        Do what you want? Is that always a good thing?

Stella:    It is when you are a bulldog. We are the stubbornest species on the face of the earth.

Me:        I beg to differ.

Stella:    Beg? Like begging for a treat? You don’t look like you’re begging. I need to give you lessons on that.

Me:        It’s another of those human sayings. I think my species could challenge you for the title of “Stubbornest Species”.

Stella:    Don’t do it, Lady Human! Humans will lose that contest!

Me:        Just one example: How many times have I told one of you to come in…for any reason, because a storm is coming, because it is bedtime and you need to be inside, or because I said so…

Stella:    The worst of all reasons.

Me:        But think about it. How many times have I said to do that and you all or just one of you dug in, refused, disobeyed…

Stella:    I hate that word. Disobey. Yuck! That means I was expected to obey. Yuck!

Me:        And what happened then? Did I give up?

Stella:    No, sadly.

Me:        Nope. I dug in. I told you that you don’t bulldog me. And what happened?

Stella:    We obeyed. BUT NOT UNTIL AFTER A FIGHT! WE ARE BULLDOGS!

Me:        And I am a stubborn human, and sometimes, that is good, and sometimes, that is bad. As for stubbornness, I’ll put a human up against a bulldog any day.

Stella:    That is foolish, Lady Human. We’ll take that challenge and raise you a…a… I don’t know what, but something more pig-headed than a bulldog if I can think of one. Wait! That’s it!

Me:        Nope. No pigs! No way!

Stella:    We’ll see. You know how stubborn I can be when I put my bulldog mind to something.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I have four feet. They are all mine. They do not belong to anyone else. So let me go, Lady Human, let me go!

Me:        I’m not trying to take your feet, Stella. I just need to borrow them for a few minutes.

Stella:    No, not yours! Give me my foot back!

Me:        Can I borrow this one then?

Stella:    No! I know what you’re up to! I see what you have in your hand. Evil toenail clippers! Wicked!

Me:        They have to be trimmed, Stella. It’s not optional.

Stella:    That sounds like something a human would say.

Me:        A human did say it, I said it.

Stella:    Then give me your feet. I want to hold on to them.

Me:        Why?

Stella:    So that you will know what it feels like when someone has captured your feet and won’t let them go. Besides, I need my toenails.

Me:        I don’t doubt it. I just think you don’t need so much of them.

Stella:    How am I going to hold onto my toys when somebody tries to take them away from me?

Me:        Who is going to take your toys?

Stella:    Well, you, of course!

Me:        Do you really think that your toenails would stop me?

Stella:    No, but they might slow you down, but only if they are long enough.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. What is running down your face, Lady Human? It looks like water.

Me:        It is. It’s sweat. Or, in polite terms, perspiration.

Stella:    Why?

Me:        I was moving a bunch of stuff around and it was all of 91 degrees which is not that hot but when you are moving around, the sweat shows up. And that’s good because it is like an air conditioner for your body.

Stella:    Do I sweat? I’ve never noticed water dripping down my face. Maybe some mouth drool, but not water.

Me:        You cool yourself by panting and I’ve been told you sweat from your feet.

Stella:    Feet? Is that why my feet smell funny?

Me:        I doubt it. Your feet more likely smell funny from what you walk around in outside. But it could be. I don’t spend a lot of time sniffing your feet.

Stella:    You don’t have to. I do that. When will your face stop shedding water?

Me:        When I cool down a bit, but right now I have to go feed the chickens.

Stella:    I’ll wait here.

Me:        I’ll just be a minute.

Stella:    Okay. Maybe I’ll sing a song while I’m waiting. Mmm…hmmm…hmmm…aaagghh…agh…Hey, there’s more water running down your face than ever.

Me:        It’s raining.

Stella:    Oh. Is that better than sweat?

Me:        Yes. No. Maybe. Sweat doesn’t water the ground. And this rain means fall is coming. At last.

Stella:    The colder?

Me:        Yes. No. Maybe.

Stella:    I like sweat more than rain. At least your face doesn’t drip on my head.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. IT’S A PARTY!

Tiger:   We had a party yesterday, remember? Not so great!

Me:        This is going to be way better.

Stella:    Yeah, no squirrels are coming! Haven’t you seen how Lady Human kept checking the front door and looking and going back and checking? It’s all in that box right there!

Miss Sweetie:    What? What? What?

Me:        It will take a couple of minutes for me to set this up. Mind you, this is going to be done in an orderly manner.

Doodlebug:   Awww. That doesn’t sound like a party at all.

Me:        I have six brand new chew toys here. I am setting them out in a row. There are five of you. Each of you will get to pick one toy, starting with the oldest first.

Wiggles:   But you said all the toys are new. How can we tell which one is oldest?

Me:        The oldest bulldog, Wiggles. That means Stella.

Stella:    Lady Human, how rude!

Me:        Sorry, Hon. We’re dealing with a fact here. Okay, head on over and make your pick.

Stella:    Mmmm. This one.

Me:        Like the old red and white one you had. Don’t you want to try something new?

Stella:    Nope. Always stick with the reliable.

Me:        All right. Pick it up. It’s yours.

Stella:    Nope. You pick it up and carry it to my bed. I am the queen.

Me:        A thank-you would be nice.

Stella:    Yes, it would. But I am patient. I will wait.

Me:        Okay, next is Wiggles.

Wiggles:   This one!

Me:        That was quick. The blue one? Are you sure?

Wiggles:   Yep. That one is me all over. Here. I’ll take it now. I’m not snooty like Stella.

Stella:   Hey!

Me:        Next is Tiger. There are still four left.

Tiger:     THIS ONE!

Me:        Okay. Why?

Tiger:     Can’t you smell it? Chicken flavor! Mine!

Me:        Next, Doodlebug!

Miss Sweetie:   Awwww. They’ll all be gone by the time it’s my turn!

Me:        No, there will still be two left. Doodlebug, what’s your…okay. That seemed decisive.

Doodlebug:   Bacon! Mine!

Me:        Okay, Sweetie, there is a chicken flavored one and a peanut butter one.

Miss Sweetie:   This one. No, that one. No, this one. Oh, I don’t know.

Me:        Which one did you like first?

Miss Sweetie:   This one.

Me:        Peanut butter.

Miss Sweetie:   Yesssss! Okay! Mine!

Stella:   Pssst! Lady Human! Who’s the last one for?

Me:        Pssst! Stella! It’s for you. In memory of your sister, Snoopey. I guess I’m still just used to ordering six of everything. I remember when she came to us, she didn’t even know what a toy was. We gave her a chew stick and she carried it around in her mouth like a cigar and wouldn’t put it down.

Stella:    It’s all right. I’ll keep it safe for her. Thank you, Lady Human.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. They are at it again, Lady Human!

Me:        They? It?

Stella:    Jerky McSquirrelyFace and his friends. They are throwing nuts on our heads from the trees.

Me:        Oh, yeah, I noticed a lot of fallout from the oak. They are dropping acorns in the back and pecans in the front.

Tiger:     Not dropping, ma’am. Throwing.

Wiggles:   And their aim is pretty good.

Me:        The chairs are covered with parts of acorns every time I go out.

Doodlebug:   You should go out more often, Lady Human. Then you could be covered with part of acorns, too.

Stella:    It’s a regular party out there.

Wiggles:   Nuts, nuts, and more nuts.

Miss Sweetie:    Who invited nuts to a party?

Stella:   Squirrels, Sweetie. Sneaky little nut stealers. They never leave so much as a pecan for us.

Me:   I could use the pecans, sure, especially during the holidays. But they are too rich for you all.

Stella:   Lady Human, whatever do you mean?

Me:   You know what I mean.

Tiger:   She means bulldog gas, Stella.

Stella:    That’s Queen Stella to you, Tiger.

Tiger:     Queen or not, pecans still give us bulldog gas.

Me:        Whatever happened to Flying Stella, Squirrel Fighter?

Stella:    Awwww, Lady Human, Flying Stella is on a long vacation. Flying up into trees is a little harder than I thought.

Me:        Well, when you get back from vacation, let me know and I’ll make you a special super-bulldog cape.

Stella:    Like the crown you promised me? Still waiting…

Miss Sweetie:    Crowns, pecans, capes, gas. I still want to know who invited nuts to a party.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges…

Me:   All right. Potty time is now! Let’s go!

Stella:    Why now? I don’t perceive that the time is now.

Me:        Thunderstorm. 20 minutes. Let’s go!

Tiger:     I don’t think I want to…

Me:        Now or never, Tiger.

Tiger:     Oh, if you insist. Go with me?

Me:        Don’t I always?

Doodlebug:   I don’t need to go outside.

Me:        Try anyway.

Doodlebug:   The air smells funny.

Me:        Rain. It’s almost here.

Miss Sweetie:    I like water. I don’t care if it rains on me.

Me:        But there’s also the thunder and lightning.

Miss Sweetie:   That’ so exciting!

Me:        It is, until it’s not.

Wiggles:   I’ll go, but it’s a waste of time.

Me:        That’s all right. Let’s just beat the storm.

Stella:    Okay, I’m out here. What’s that on the ground?

Me:        No time for exploring now, girl.

Stella:    But this is so…Aaaaggghhh! What was that? The sky just broke!

Me:        You’ve heard thunder before.

Stella:    Not like that! Not right over my head! Run!

Me:        Walk. Just head back to the door.

Stella:    Walk, Lady Human, if you want the sky to fall on your head. I’m running. Whoever said bulldogs can’t run fast never stood with us under a cracking sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human! Lady Human!

Me:        Hmmm?

Stella:    Where is my softie dinosaur buddy?

Me:        Mmmm mm mm mmm.

Stella:    What?

Me:        Mmmm mm mm mmm.

Tiger:     What language is she speaking? It’s not her usual human one.

Wiggles:   It’s not bulldoggese. Well, maybe a little bit. Mmmm. Mm. Yep. Sounds like us.

Miss Sweetie:   That’s scary talk, Lady Human. What’s wrong with your mouth?

Doodlebug:   Maybe it’s a new game. I’ll play. Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff. Now you make your special noise again, Lady Human.

Stella:    It’s not a game, Doodle! She is not opening her mouth. And I still don’t know where my softie dinosaur buddy is, which is the real problem.

Tiger:   It is a lot quieter around here when Lady Human is not talking.

Me:        MMMMM!

Stella:    Lady Human, open your mouth! What are you doing now? Eewww! Gross!

Me:        How can a bulldog call anything that I do ‘gross’? I was swishing a mouthwash that had to stay in for a certain time. I don’t usually do it around you all. When the time is up, I spit it out.

Wiggles:   Gross!

Tiger:     Gross!

Doodlebug:   Gross! But no big deal. I’ve done worse.

Miss Sweetie:   So have I. But still, gross!

Stella:    So that’s why you couldn’t talk for a few minutes. But the bigger question is WHERE IS MY SOFTIE DINOSAUR BUDDY?

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Shhh! Stop barking! Whisper!

Tiger:     But there’s something wrong with Lady Human’s head.

Wiggles:   I think she is just being human. Humans are weird.

Miss Sweetie:    LADY HUMAN! YOUR HEAD IS WEIRD!

Stella:    Sweetie! Quiet down! Maybe it will go back to normal.

Miss Sweetie:    No, I have to say something! Maybe we can bark it back to normal.

Doodlebug:   I think part of her head is missing, the part that used to have long strings hanging from it.

Tiger:   Those strings are what the humans call ‘hair’, though we know that hair doesn’t look like that. It looks like what we wear all over.

Wiggles:   I think something is sitting on her head. I know! One of those birds built a nest there!

Stella:    Hush! Humans are particular about how they look. She’d be horrified to know a bird built a nest on her head. I don’t want to hurt Lady Human’s feelings. She doesn’t seem to know how bizarre she looks.

Me:        Okay, what is all the barking about? And why all the sidelong looks? Is something wrong?

Stella:    I hate to be the one to tell you, but something is terribly wrong with your head. There! I said it!

Me:   You mean this towel?

Miss Sweetie:    What happened to the rest of your head? There! I said it!  You heard me say it!

Me:        Nothing’s wrong with my head. I just washed my hair and I put a towel around it to catch the drips. I guess I don’t walk through the house like this often enough for you to remember. Look! I’ll take it off.

Stella:    NO! OH, THE HORROR! Wait! Your hair is all stringy and wet. Your head is still there.

Me:        As I have been trying to tell you…

Stella:    Okay then. Never mind. Everybody go back to real life. Lady Human is fine. Nothing to see here. I don’t know why you all got so upset. Silly bulldogs.

Me:        How about you, Stella? Are you all right?

Stella:    I should have known, Lady Human, that you would never go walking around with a weird head. That’s not the way you are. You always make sure that your head is on straight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Why are you rubbing your head, Lady Human? And why are you scrunching your face up in that weird way that means something is wrong?

Me:        We had a little collision outside.

Tiger:     Yeah. Was that what happened?

Stella:    What have you two been up to? Lady Human, you’re all wet. So is Tiger. Is it raining that hard?

Me:        No, not rain. Ow. I was washing out the chickens’ water contraption. And Tiger loves the water hose.

Tiger:     Yeah, the funnest fun there is. You are really hard-headed, Lady Human.

Me:        Yeah, I’ve gotten that way since becoming acquainted with bulldogs.

Tiger:     Or maybe we got hard-headed since knowing you.

Me:        I don’t think so. You all bring a long line of hard heads to the table.

Stella:    Table? What’s on the table? Is it food?

Me:        No, just another human expression. So, Tiger was playing in the water while I was washing out the chicken water…

Stella:    Contraption. I always knew that’s what that was.

Me:        And I bent down at the same time Tiger raised up and…

Stella:    Ka-bang.

Me:        Yep. Ka-boom.

Stella:    Two hard heads colliding. No wonder you were making a face.

Me:        And the hose went a little wild…

Stella:    And you both got soaked.

Me:        Yep.

Stella:    You could have just played in the rain.

Me:        That wouldn’t have cleaned and filled the chicken water…

Stella:    Contraption.

Me:        Yep.

Stella:    Which all goes to show you, Lady Human, don’t try to match heads with a bulldog. You’ll end up with a headache and all wet to boot.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. There is a strange barking outside. A strange dog is here. Lady Human! I know what you’re up to! No more bulldogs!

Me:        She’s not a bulldog, Stella. Just a little dog lost. From the looks of her, she has been on the road a long time by herself. She’s what we call a stray.

Stella:    Why? Where does she live? Why is she here?

Me:        I believe the LORD wants us to get her to a safe place. If I had not been standing  exactly where I was exactly when I was, I would not have seen her. She was walking past and would have kept on going if we hadn’t called to her. She is very friendly, but she is flea-bitten and tired. We got her some food and water.

Stella:    But why isn’t she at her home?

Me:        I don’t know her story. She could have run away or gotten out of her house or yard when no one saw. Her people may be looking for her.

Stella:    Or they may not be.

Me:        Maybe not anymore. She may have been gone for so long that they have given up.

Stella:    She can stay here after all, Lady Human. I will take her under my bulldog arm and teach her how to be one of us.

Me:        We have to think of what is best for her. I am taking her to a place where people do nothing but take care of lost dogs and find their homes or, if they can’t, they find them new homes. They have vets and food and air conditioning and beds. She will do well there. They may even have a record of someone looking for her.

Stella:    But she is going to be all right, isn’t she?

Me:        Yes. I don’t think she came here by accident.

Stella:    I don’t plan on being a stray, but if I ever do that, Lady Human…

Me:        I would search for you and ask God to reunite us.

Stella:    Maybe I would pass by someone who would know what to do. A human magnet. Someone to draw me home.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. People insult bulldog noses as short and weak, but we are still dogs and ours are still bulldog noses. Something is wrong outside, Lady Human. That’s why Doodlebug balked at going out.

Me:        What is it? I don’t hear anything. I don’t see anything.

Stella:    Your nose! That’s the thing you should be using.

Me:        I don’t smell anything unusual.

Stella:    And to think, humans insult bulldog noses.

Me:        Well, let’s check it out.

Stella:    Down there! Look! Smell! Horrible! It is the death scent!

Me:        Yeah, something is dead or rotten. The smell is coming from that bag on the road. That’s pretty bad to float all the way to our place.

Stella:    Oh, no! Look! A giant chicken! Warn it not to touch that stinky bag!

Me:        Stella, that’s not a giant chicken. It’s not a chicken at all. That’s a buzzard. Some people call them vultures.

Stella:    Hey, buzzard! Don’t touch that bag! It smells bad! You won’t like it!

Me:   I think the buzzard disagrees.

Stella:    Eewww! Why?

Me:        Buzzards think about these things differently than we do. The Great Creator has made them for a specific purpose, too. I’ll call for the people who handle such minor emergencies to come and deal with this.

Stella:    Should we open the bag?

Me:        What do you think?

Stella:    Naw. No bag opening. The buzzard can have it if it wants it.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me:        Ow! Ow! Off my foot!

Wiggles:   I’m sorry, Lady Human. Was that your foot? I thought it was big, bony piece of meat. I was just claiming it.

 

Me:   Ow! Wiggles! That’s my other foot!

Wiggles:   How many feet do you have? ‘Cuz I have four. But yours seem to be everywhere.

Me:        I only have two and you have managed to stomp on them both just now.

Wiggles:    If they weren’t so big, they would be easier to miss.

Stella:    If you weren’t the queen of the foot stompers, they would not be a problem. You’ve stomped on my feet before, too. I doubt there is anyone in the earth whose feet you have not stomped on.

Me:   That’s a bit of an exaggeration.

Wiggles:   A bit?

Me:        Yeah, a little bit.

Wiggles:   Well, I am fast on my feet, you know.

Me:   Just aim your feet away from mine, all right?

Wiggles:   But, if I do that, I will lose my foot stomping crown, and it’s my only chance at one. We both know that Stella is never going to give hers up.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges…

Doodlebug:   Help! Out of my way! Oh, no….

Me:        Run, boy, run!

Stella:    All right. I know what’s going on here!

Me:        I do, too. But you tell me your thoughts.

Stella:    Garbage in, garbage out.

Me:        Well said, Stella.

Stella:    Isn’t it obvious, Lady Human?

Me:        Yeah, pretty much. I’ll give him some pumpkin.

Stella:    May I have some, too, please?

Me:        Do you have stomach distress?

Stella:    No, I just like pumpkin. Please!

Me:        Oh, okay.

Doodlebug:   Done and done.

Me:        Are you sure?

Doodlebug:   Yes. No. Maybe.

Me:        Here. Have some pumpkin, just in case. And by the way, the less garbage you eat off the ground, the better off you’ll be.

Doodlebug:   I know what you are talking about, Lady Human. But it’s not just offscourings that tempt me. The squirrels have been throwing acorns and pecans down and I just can’t resist trying some.

Me:        Can you resist having intestinal distress?

Doodlebug:    Yes. No. Maybe. I’ll think about it.

Me:        Here’s a human perspective. When I figure out that something I’ve been eating, or drinking. causes me trouble, I stop using it. I like feeling good.

Stella:    That’s amazing, Lady Human.

Me:        It’s common sense.

Stella:    We are bulldogs. We don’t know what ‘common sense’ means.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges and no, I will not take a bath!

Me:        If not a bath, how about a puppy pool swim. It’s still hot outside. It will feel good.

Stella:    Nope. I refuse to get my toes wet. Wet toes are unhappy toes.

Miss Sweetie:    Do it, Aunt Stella! Look at me! I love the water in the little pool. I can stomp around. I can lie down. I can roll over. And all the dirt comes off.

Me:        Well, maybe not ALL the dirt. But some, yes.

Stella:    No. No. No. Water is for drinking, not wallowing in.

Miss Sweetie:   I am a greater wallower.  Watch me wallow.

Me:        In the olden days, Saturday night baths were a big tradition among the humans. Water had to be drawn by hand from wells or creeks and the water had to be heated on the stove and it took so much work that the whole family might share the bathwater.

Stella:    Gross!

Me:        I understand how important your feet are to you, Stella, but it is a super warm day and the water could feel good.

Stella:    And how good will it feel when I get out of the pool and onto the dirty, dirty ground, and my wet, wet feet pick up the dirty, dirty dirt? And how will you feel when my dirty, dirty, wet, wet feet walk into the house, tracking the dirty dirt?

Me:        I never thought of it that way. I mean, I think about tracking on rainy, muddy days, but I never thought about the pool causing a problem. Of course, there’s always the mop and the broom.

Stella and Miss Sweetie:                  NOOOO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.