I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. As Queen, I am awarding the first ever Bulldog Good Conduct Medal to…STELLA, QUEEN OF THE OLDE ENGLISH BULLDOGGES!
Me: You’re giving an award to yourself?
Stella: Who better? I am a wonderful companion. I do not eat human furniture. I only bark when I want to.
Me: Isn’t giving yourself an award a little…well…self-serving?
Stella: Of course. Who else would I serve?
Me: Then tell me, what form does this medal take? A gold disc in the shape of a bulldog? A plaque to hang above your bed?
Stella: No. Nothing stupid like that. And this is where you come in, Lady Human. Meat. My medal is to be made of meat. The good stuff, not some cheap substitute. And if you do a good job, I may just award you a Good Conduct Medal for Humans. Of course, that one will be made of meat, too – for me because I picked you.
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: Stella, time to go out, girl.
Stella: Mmmm, I respectfully decline.
Me: No, it is definitely time to go out now.
Stella: Nope.
Me: NOW, Stella. You are going out to potty NOW.
Stella: Saying words more than once will not change my mind.
Me: No options. Go outside.
Stella: You don’t bulldog me! Humans don’t have those skills. Never try to bulldog a bulldog ‘cuz we’ll bulldog you right back and guess what? BULLDOGS RULE! The End.
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human, MoonCat is starving to death again.
MoonCat: Meow! Food!
Me: MoonCat, you have food in your bowl, and I have already fed you 2 softy meals just since this morning with 2 more to come. If I put more down, you just let it go to waste.
MoonCat: Meow! More food!
Me: No, ma’am. Eat what you have. This is at the point of ridiculous.
Stella: The point of ridiculous doesn’t sound so bad. In fact, it sounds like a fun place. Let’s park at it for a while.
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Awww! RUN! RUN! RUN!
Me: Stella, wake up!
Stella: What happened? Where am I?
Me: You’re fine. You were dreaming. I don’t like waking you up from a dream, but you were kicking and groaning.
Stella: Where is that ugly thing that was chasing me?
Me: It’s not here. It was only in your dream.
Stella: Why would I dream about such a thing?
Me: Hard to say. I have bad dreams sometimes, too. I guess everyone does. Some people think that bad dreams come from eating certain types of food right before bedtime.
Stella: The only thing I eat right before bed are…crackers! Did crackers cause my bad dream? ‘Cuz if so…who cares about a bad dream. Keep the crackers coming!
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde Bulldogges. What’cha doin’, Lady Human? ‘Cuz whatever it is, it looks kinda dumb.
Me: Why, thank you so much, Stella. I’m trying on some dressy clothes in case I need to dress up.
Stella: Isn’t that what humans do every day? You put on all that stuff.
Me: Yes, but there are clothes and then there are dress clothes. You know, for parties or church events or special business.
Stella: No, I don’t know. I have never understood why humans drape themselves with all that cloth. A blanket on a bed on a cold day or night, yes. But to walk around in and get caught on bushes and trees and brush and then you throw them in that loud machine and slosh them in water. Human nonsense. And now you tell me that you have to use different clothes for different days.
Me: And by the way, how about your special sweater that I made for you. When the next norther comes through, you should wear that.
Stella: Oh, no! I remember that thing. You can keep that dress up stuff all to yourself. I am proud to be naked and a dog.
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: Stella, you have to scooch over. I need to sit there.
Stella: Nope, I’m fine right where I am.
Me: I mean it. You haven’t left me enough room to sit down.
Stella: You sit too much as it is.
Me: Excuse me, but…
Stella: Okay, I excuse your butt. However, I prefer not to use that word, thank you.
Me: Uh, who do you think you are?
Stella: I know who I am. Haven’t you been paying attention all this time? I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I thought that I had made that clear. Now who do YOU think YOU are?
Me: I am the owner of that chair.
Stella: Typical human behavior. Always grabbing everything for themselves.
Me: Well, sometimes. Like fiddlin’ with an engine to make it run. Or fiddlin’ on a violin which is a fiddle. But what you’re doing just looks like you’re moving one thing and then moving another to no real purpose.
Stella: Shows how much a human knows. This toy has to be in the right place for my head to rest on comfortably and so no one else, meaning you, Lady Human, can play with it. And this blanket has to be piled up over here to support my belly so it won’t slump on the mattress.
Me: Oh, excuse me. I totally misunderstood.
Stella: That’s because you like all humans were fiddlin’ in your head over things you know nothing about.
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human, everyone on the Picture Box has that cold, white stuff on the ground.
Me: Snow?
Stella: I don’t remember what it is called, but we don’t have any. Where is our cold, white stuff on the ground?
Me: We haven’t had any thus far this season, but it is way early for us to have snow. Did you really like it so much when we had it back in February?
Stella: No, of course not. Who like having cold, wet feet?
Me: What’s the problem then?
Stella: I don’t like walking in it. I just like looking at it. From a distance. With my feet all warm and toasty. Never mind. Cancel my order. I’ll just stick with the Picture Box stuff. This way I can enjoy it without living in it.
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human, what’s going on?
Me: It’s Christmas. We are celebrating.
Stella: Is that why the humans are acting up?
Me: I don’t think we are ‘acting up’.
Stella: Lights are on all over the house. And Tall Man is pointing his little black hand box everywhere and the little human is squealing for no reason.
Me: Well, not for no reason. There are gifts. And the pictures are for us to look at in the future and remember.
Stella: Excuse me for saying so, Lady Human, but humans don’t know the first thing about celebrating anything. Lights? Pictures? Gifts? Food, Lady Human! FOOD!
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. My head is huge and heavy. When I want to rest, I search for the biggest, squishiest headrest I can find, and it always turns out to be the same. Lady Human.
Me: Nope.
Stella: Yup.
Me: Not right now. Use one of the cushions.
Stella: But those smell like dog.
Me: To be honest, so do I.
Stella: Yeah, but I’m the dog you smell like, so that’s okay.
MoonCat: I am MoonCat, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Stella: No. I am Stella, Queen of the Olde…
MoonCat: Meow. You were the Queen. The bulldogges listen to me now. Meow.
Stella: Lady Human, stop this cat madness!
Me: Well, MoonCat has been telling Doodlebug when to call the breakfast hour.
Stella: Just because I sleep through breakfast is no reason to say…
MoonCat: Meow. I tell the bulldogs when breakfast is because I get hungry, and the former queen is asleep. The bulldogs don’t mind because they get to eat breakfast, too.
Stella: Preposterous! I’ll bet you don’t even know what that means.
MoonCat: Of course, I know what it means. It means ‘bulldog’.
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Harumph!
Me: What’s that you say?
Stella: You heard me.
Me: I heard you, but I don’t understand.
Stella: Harumph!
Me: Why are you making that noise?
Stella: I think I am being clear. Harumph!
Me: Please translate.
Stella: Harumph – the universal sound of bulldog discontent.
Me: Discontent about what?
Stella: That’s the beauty of Harumph. It can mean anything that we want it to mean. You have to figure it out. But be assured. The next time I harumph, it will mean something completely different. Keeps life exciting, doesn’t it?
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hurry, Lady Human! Listen! Those reindeer that man on your little picture box was talking about! They’re here!
Me: Nope.
Stella: Yes, they are! Here them tromping on the roof! This is exciting!
Me: It’s exciting, but not in a good way.
Stella: Let’s go see them. Is that chubby man in the red suit with them?
Me: Those aren’t reindeer tromping on the roof, girl. Those are rats.
Stella: Rats? Really? Well, that’s not so special…unless…are they pulling a tiny sliding box with gifts?
I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Whirl and twirl! Yee-hah! Go! Go! Go!
Me: Stella, settle down! Please! It’s settle down time.
Stella: Nope. Bounce! Bounce! Bounce! Ahhh-wooo!
Me: How is it you have this kind of energy at the end of the day?
Stella: Bulldoggy. Just plain bulldogginess.
Me: I sure could use some of that energy myself. If I knew how, I would bottle it and sell it.
Stella: If you’re going to bottle and sell my jumpy, pumpy bulldog energy, make sure I get my share. I accept bacon, special treats, T-bone steaks, oh well, you know, this list goes on and on and on….