I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human, you smell like grass. Not a bad smell, but not as good as the barbeque beef you smelled like before.
Me: The abundant rain has nurtured a lot of weeds. I had to cut them down before they got out of hand.
Stella: And then you rolled in them like a good dog would.
Me: No, I don’t roll in cut grass.
Stella: You could have fooled me.
Me: Hey, there was a lot to be done.
Stella: I don’t mind, Lady Human. I just prefer it when you got to a beef place and come back scented like barbeque.
Stella: That’s okay. We got a whiff of barbeque when you first got home yesterday. By the way, why does church smell like barbeque?
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