I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: Move over.
Stella: What?
Me: Move over.
Stella: What are you talking about?
Me: Stella, this is a narrow bed. This is my bed. You are right in the middle of it. If you don’t move over, I have no space to sleep. There’s not even enough room for me to curl into a ball.
Stella: Whatever.
Me: Okay, here it comes.
Stella: Here comes what?
Me: The sausage dog roll.
Stella: I don’t smell anything. Did you buy it at the special store for sausage rolls?
Me: I’m talking about you.
Stella: I don’t understand.
Me: You are the sausage dog and I am going to roll you.
Stella: Wait! What’s going on?
Me: You are getting rolled over, Sausage Dog.
Stella: It feels so weird.
Me: You are just rolling from one side to the other. I refuse to be ousted from my own bed.
Stella: Why Sausage Dog?
Me: Well, when I look at you in the middle of my bed, you look for all the world like a sausage. Except that you have hair. And you are a dog. But your shape is sort of…
Stella: A sausage?
Me: Yeah.
Stella: All this talk of sausages makes me think…Can I have a sausage?
Me: Fresh out.
Stella: Okay. Can I still have cheese?
Me: Yeah, sure. Although that may be one reason you look like a sausage dog.
Stella: Meh, small price to pay.
Copyright 2019 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.
Bulldoggy 