I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. At time I may seem demanding. That is because I am. Why not demand my due? I am special. But I have to admit that without my humans, my life would be much reduced.
Me: Aw, Stella, that is so nice for you to…
Stella: That does not mean that I am not special. It simply means that I admit that I have had help.
Me: Well, that’s still nice…
Stella: A little tiny bit of help.
Me: And what form has this help taken, pray tell?
Stella: Primarily in the form of treats, day and night. For example, what would I do without my special oat O’s and special cheese at night? Sshhhhh! I know that the others don’t get those treats. That is my special prerogative. After all, there should be a few perks to being queen. Otherwise, what’s the big deal?
Me: I think the big deal, as you put it, has nothing to do with perks, or special cheese, or oat O’s, but in the responsibility that the position imposes.
Stella: Blah, blah, blah. What are you talking about?
Me: Something important that humans continually forget.
Stella: Does that mean that there is not going to be a special bedtime snack tonight?
Me: Not at all. There will be. But there would be responsibility even if there weren’t treats.
Stella: If I had my druthers, I would take the treats.
Me: And how long would you be queen after that?
Stella: Hmmm. Not very long. If I were not queen, would you still bring me cheese?
Me: Maybe. Probably.
Stella: As long as cheese is involved, I am happy. Carry on.
Me: Oh, all right.
Stella: What was that?
Me: Your Majesty.
Stella: Not perfect, but better.
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