Don’t Go Stingy on the Treats! – Conversations with Stella and the Pack


I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I hereby call this pack meeting to order. Lady Human,, we have a beef with you.

Tiger:  A real beef having to do with beef.

Wiggles:  Yeah, not enough treats.

Miss Sweetie:  Yeah, the treats are so small that my mouth cannot feel that they are there. My mouth is sad.

Doodlebug:  Treats? What treats? I haven’t had a real treat in a century.

Me:  Okay, here we go.

Stella:  Hey, I am the Queen. I called this meeting to order.

Tiger:  Then be queen and get our treats back.

Me:  Y’all get treats all the time.

Stella:  But we have noticed…don’t think we haven’t…that the size of the treat has gotten way smaller lately.

Me:  You each get a treat every time you come in from outside and how many times a day is that?

Stella:  One.

Tiger:  No, at least two.

Wiggles:  Five. Count on your toes.

Miss Sweetie:  A million.

Me:  Bottom line, if I gave you a full treat every time, you would blow up like bulldog balloons.

Doodlebug:  I would like to see that.

Me:  Believe me, no. You wouldn’t. And you wouldn’t like the way it would feel. So, I break the treats apart. The vet warned me last year about distributing the treats too freely.

Stella:  I don’t know why you listen to that woman. All she does is wear a white coat and try to spoil our fun. We could go on strike until we get our full share of treats again.

Me:  Go on strike from what?  You all don’t do any work to strike from.

Stella:  Oh, is that what that means? Well then, never mind. We will just look pitiful. That usually works.




Copyright 2019 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

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