I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. The world is full of things, moving, ugly, smelly things.
Me: And beautiful, wonderful, bright, unusual, colorful, sweet things.
Stella: Maybe, but none of those things are in our yard tonight. Wait.
Me: Are you pointing, Stella? Like a pointer dog.
Stella: Shhh! Smell the air!
Me: I am. What is so special?
Stella: Can’t you smell it?
Me: No. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Stella: It’s coming from over there.
Me: You look just like a pointer dog, except you aren’t as tall and you aren’t as skinny and you aren’t lifting your front leg.
Stella: The weird smell is in that corner.
Me: Fill me in.
Stella: Go over there and see what it is.
Me: Me? Why me? It’s dark. I don’t hear anything. I don’t see anything. You go over.
Stella: No. I’ve done my job. I pointed it out.
Me: How about we just go back inside?
Stella: After I went to all the trouble of pointing?
Me: Okay. I’ll go back inside. Stay as long as you like.
Stella: NO! Run! Inside now! Pointing is for the birds.
Copyright 2019 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.