Bulldog Dining in Style – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Yay me!

Me:        Yay you! I have a question.

Stella:    We bulldogs are fascinating creatures. There is always a question to ask about us.

Me:        Snoopey and Tiger would rather eat food off the floor than food out of their bowls. Why?

Stella:    Why not?

 

Me:        Why not? Because food on the floor can have dirt or dog hair in it. Food on the floor can be stale, something dropped and missed a day or two ago. Food on the floor can have been stepped on by humans or dogs or, worse, by a cat.

Stella:    Ewww! I hadn’t thought of that! Cat feet!

Me:        Is that all? Cat feet? What about dirt and hair and staleness and…

Stella:    I think you have forgotten the main point, Lady Human.

Me:        Eating off the floor is the main point.

Stella:    Nope. Being a dog, and more specifically, being a bulldog is the main point.

Me:        But even a bulldog should prefer fresh food in a bowl to old nasty food on the floor. AND if they can’t find food on the floor, they deliberately spill their food out of their bowls and proceed to eat the floor food. Why? I just want to understand.

Stella:    I don’t understand the question.

Me:        You never see humans spill their food on purpose and eat it off the floor.

Stella:    So, what’s the problem?

Me:        You don’t do it.

Stella:    No, I don’t, but I am the Queen. It wouldn’t do to have the bulldogs see me eating off the floor.

Me:        So why do Tiger and Snoopey do it?

Stella:    Personal preference. Don’t you humans believe in freedom?

Me:        But why just those two?

Stella:    Maybe eating off the floor feels more like the hunt to them. They don’t really have to find food, but it is more of a challenge than kibble in a bowl, more like the old, old game of survival.

Me:        And you don’t like that game.

Stella:    Lady Human, I am far too civilized to go back to the old ways. Just keep putting my food in a shiny silver bowl, thank you. The only time I hunt is when I don’t have to.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Beware the Cat’s Paws! – Conversations with Stella

To all puppies in the world: I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hello!

Today I am here to warn you in case your mothers and your negligent humans have failed to do so.

Me:        Negligent humans?

Stella:    You know what I am talking about. Humans and their little secrets. Secrets like cat’s paws!

Me:        What? What secret? Cats have paws. Surprise! Surprise!

Stella:    And what do those paws have, Lady Human? Tell the puppies of the world what those paws hide! CLAWS! Real, live CLAWS!

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Me:        Well, yeah. I guess that’s true, but…

Stella:    But nothing! Understand this, puppies! That soft padded little paw that is quietly walking your way looks like a furry cotton ball, all sweetness, but BOING! Out pop the claws. You never see them until it is too late.

Me:        Now, Stella, when has it ever been too late for you…oh, I forgot.

Stella:    You forgot, but I? Never!

Me:        You met those exposed claws because you were chasing Moon the Cat. You could have left well enough alone.

Stella:    NEVER FORGET!

Me:        The Bible tells us that there are things to remember and things to forget. I think it is time that you forget when Moon defended herself with her nails. And she could have done a whole lot worse to you than a few pinpricks on the muzzle. She showed you mercy.

Stella:    Still my warning goes out to the world of puppies! Beware the paws with hidden claws!

Me:        What about your paws – your big, heavy, slapping paws?

Stella:    My nails aren’t hidden. They are out in the open for all to see. Besides, my paw taps are love pats. You love me, don’t you?

Me:        Yes.

Stella:    Love me, love my paws.

Me:        And the cat?

Stella:    NEVER FORGET!

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Scent-seeing: Conversations with Stella

I, Stella, Queen of the Illustrious Olde English Bulldogges…no, that didn’t come out right. I am Illustrious. The bulldogs are…well, bulldogs which is pretty special but not necessarily Illustrious. Anyway, I am back to answer Lady Human’s latest silly question.

Me:        Silly? I beg your pardon!

Stella:    Oh, Lady Human, you don’t have to beg me. I pardon you anyway. What is your silly question?

Me:        Without agreeing that it is silly, I was wondering why Tiger spent so much time walking around the yard today. She’s been out there thousands of times. She surely knows every square inch of it by now. What else is there to see?

Stella:    There you go again, showing your human ignorance and prejudices. It’s not what there is to see; it’s what there is to smell. We read the world by scent the way you read the annoying little boxes you carry around in your hands. The smells change every moment. All it takes is a fresh breeze to blow a new odor across our path. Then our brains kick into motion and we become bulldog detectives like that Sherlock Bones.

Me:        Holmes.

Stella:    Isn’t that what I said?

Me:        Never mind.

Stella:    Humans don’t appreciate how much time it takes to sort out all the scents that penetrate our intelligent noses. Other dogs, for example, and the things they leave behind. It’s like reading what you humans call ‘the news’.

Squirrels and their nut collections. Selfish little pecan thieves! They make me so mad! Leave some for the rest of us!

Raccoons which, by the way, smell a lot like a human garbage can to me – interesting and appetizing. I sometimes understand why Wiggles is a trash diver. And then there are other times that I think, naw, yuck!

And, of course, there are the rats and mice and slugs and insects. Oh, those roaches you hate so much, guess what? They stink like garbage, too. I suppose you end up smelling like what you hang around with.

Me:        Thanks for letting me know. I do not engage in cockroach sniffing.

Stella:    I know, Lady Human. I am so sorry for you, you and your inadequate human nose. There are so many stinks that you will never enjoy. You’ll just have to take my word for that.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Be Sure to Wash My Rhinoceros – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me:        And…

Stella:    And what?

Me:        That is all?

Stella:    Oh, yes. Hello, human population!

Me:        I’m surprised at the short intro.

Stella:    Queens do not need long introductions. The word ‘Queen’ should be enough.

Me:        Then why do you use long introductions most of the time?

Stella:    I like the way the words sound. They are pretty and they are all about me.

Snoopey:  And we all get tired of hearing them.

Stella:    Hey, make up your own words. Leave mine alone. And by the way, leave my toys alone, too.

Snoopey:  Finders, keepers; losers, too bad.

Stella:    Lady Human, Snoopey slobbered on my rhinoceros! Nasty! Fix him!

Me:        Your rhino will be fine.

Stella:    No! Germs! Bulldog germs which are stronger than any other germs! Worse than that – they are Snoopey’s germs!

Snoopey:  Ha! Ha!

Stella:    Wash my rhinoceros, Lady Human!

Me:        I’ll get around to it.

Stella:    No, now! Use some of that stinky stuff you put in the loud water machine so my rhino won’t get sick from Snoopey Super Germs.

Me:        Play with one of your other chew toys.

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Stella:    My other chew toys are sticks. They have no personality. What must a bulldog do to get good service around here?

Me:        Get a butler.

Stella:    I thought I already had.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Humans Talk and Talk and Talk and Say What? – Stella’s Blog

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and by “Olde” I don’t mean “old” in years. Would we call ourselves ‘old’? I think not. How rude! But that subject is for another time because today I want to talk. Not as the humans talk (which is all the time). I want to talk about how much the humans talk. They even carry little boxes around with them that make noise and all of a sudden, they talk into those boxes – EVEN WHEN NO OTHER HUMAN IS IN THE HOUSE! How creepy is that!

For example, Lady Human has been talking and talking all week into one of those boxes.

Lady Human: “I know. I know. Right? Someone should say something…”

 Yes, Lady Human, someone should say something. Something like ‘stop talking’.

From what I have heard, humans can talk to lots of different people on the little boxes, but mostly one at a time. Sometimes they start laughing and I have no idea what the funny part is because I can only hear one side!

Lady Human: “It was so funny that I had to turn away and cover my mouth. I shouldn’t have been laughing.”

 Why not laugh, Lady Human? Is there too much laughter in the world? Are humans suddenly drowning in laughter? Is laughter suddenly a worldwide epidemic? No, I thought not. Please stop being embarrassed when you enjoy what the Great Creator has given you – a sense of humor. Not everyone has one. Snoopey, for example. Tiger, for example. The rest of the pack is all right.

Lady Human: “I am probably going to the grocery store today. I don’t know. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow when I can go get the dog food, too.”

 Really? You are talking about going to the store? Make up your mind, will you? What an earth-shaking decision! Though if we are running low on dog food, why would you wait until tomorrow? That’s dangerous around a bunch of hungry bulldogs.

And on and on and on it goes. Talk, talk, talk, and not a drop of interesting bulldog gossip. In fact, nothing about bulldogs. Blah, blah, blah! BORING!

So, this is what I propose. Put the little talking box down. Oh, and make it stop ringing and blipping and squeaking and squawking and popping. Then, talk to us bulldogs. We could use the practice with our verbal skills and, even if we don’t answer back, you will make us feel important.

And bulldog importance is what it is all about, isn’t it? Wait! Don’t answer that! No more talking!

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Right Reserved.

 

Bulldog Life is So Unfair – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella. Hello!

Me:        What? No self-introduction as Queen and Illustrious and Noble and all that.

Stella:    And all that? No, not today. Today I am Stella and that includes all the above. Thank you and good night.

Me:        Wait. You haven’t said anything yet.

Stella:    Oh. Very well. I am a bulldog and life is unfair.

Me:        How so?

Stella:    For example, you ran off on an adventure with Tiger today and none of the rest of us was included. Hmph!

Me:        Tiger scratched her eye and got an infection. She went to the vet.

Stella:    Neeehhh! Wrong answer.

Me:        Pardon me?

Stella:    You are pardoned. You were gone too long for a regular vet visit.

Me:        We went to the bulldog specialist who is farther away and there was heavy traffic both ways.

Stella:    Bulldog specialist? Who is she? Is she the vet that I know?

Me:        No. You have never seen him.

Stella:    What? Am I not a bulldog? Do I not deserve a vet who specializes in bulldogs?

Me:        No. It’s not necessary for ordinary things like vaccinations and checkups.

Stella:    And what do you mean ‘him’? Don’t try to fool me, Lady Human. All vets are female.

Me:        No, just the ones you have seen.

Stella:    What? Nooo! More unfairness. Why is the world so wrong? I know what you did. You took Tiger out to a party and did not invite me.

Me:        No, silly! I took Tiger to the vet and it was no party. Ask Tiger for yourself.

Tiger:     Uhhh. It was no party. I never want to go again.

Me:        You see. No party.

Tiger:     There were all these other dogs, but they were not partying. It was a doctor’s office and it smelled funny.  One of the dogs walked up to me and stuck his nose right in my face. No sniffing  introduction. So rude! And I let him know it, too!

Me:        Yes, you did, Tiger, you were very direct in your disapproval.

Tiger:     He deserved it.

Me:        I am glad that you didn’t make actual contact.

Tiger:     I am going to take a long, long nap now. No party, Stella, no party.

Stella:    Still unfair. I didn’t get a car ride.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Humans Do Have Good Taste, Sometimes – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, royal, majestic, noble, and Illustrious!

Me:        You really shouldn’t capitalize words in the middle of a sentence.

Stella:    I did not capitalize any word. You did.

Me:        Well, technically, but I am following your lead. ‘Illustrious’ should start with a lower-case letter.

Stella:    Another bizarre human custom, Lady Human. I choose to ignore it. Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to pay humans a compliment. Now I’m not so sure I will.

Me:        Awww, come on, Stella. It’s not often that you pay us a compliment. I would hate to miss it.

Stella:    Mmmm, all right, you talked me into it. Humans have the best beds. Humans are experts in laziness and really know how to put together the finest in sleeping spaces. If humans weren’t so lazy, they probably would never have come up with the idea of a mattress or a pillow mattress topper.

Me:        Is this because I ended up with a second mattress topper?

Stella:    Of course. Your bed was okay before, but now…now I can sink into it and leave the world behind.

Me:        That sounds wonderful. I wish I could.

Stella:    Lady Human, you have the most wonderful bed ever.

Me:        Then why aren’t you interested in sleeping on it?

Stella:    Too smelly!

Me:        What!

Stella:    Not an insult, Lady Human. I’m sure all those smells are scents that humans find pleasant, but they are not bulldoggy enough for me.

Me:        Snoopey sure doesn’t seem to mind.

Stella:    Snoopey is honored to share your sleeping space and would not dare to speak against your human candles and oils and… well, they may overwhelm her nose, but she probably just buries her head in the covers and ignores them. I, on the other hand, am too much of a connoisseur of bulldog scents to pretend that I like…human things.

Me:        I see.

Stella:    Don’t get me wrong. Your human bed is luxurious. The soft sheet, the soft covers, the cushy mattress toppers and it doesn’t stink…much. But the stink is the sort of thing that humans prefer. I tend toward a doggier smell. Which gives me an idea. You can make me a crate-sized bed just like your wonderful bed, except without the human sweet scents that are so offensive.

Me:        That’s what we humans call a ‘backhanded compliment’.

Stella:    ‘Back pawed’ would be more accurate.

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Don’t Be An Attention Hound! – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, the one and only Illustrious Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Nobody appointed me. Nobody elected me. I just came this way.

First of all, let me say that I do not get enough attention…

Me:        Haha! As if!

Stella:    As if what, Lady Human?

Me:        It’s just an expression. It means that I doubt what you just said.

Stella:    How rude! Who would know better than I if I am getting enough attention or not? I know when I am being fed, being petted, being talked to – not that “Do this, Stella!” and “Don’t do that, Stella!” human nonsense talk but actual conversation about food, and treats, and what is that scary thing on the Picture Box, and…

Me:        Life’s important issues.

Stella:    Exactly.

Me:        You are an attention hound.

Stella:    I beg your pardon.

Me:        Granted.

Stella:    No, I mean how dare you call me a hound of any kind? I am a bulldog. There is no mistaking us for any other kind of dog. If I am an attention anything, it would be an attention…sponge. Yes. A sponge that soaks up all the attentiony goodness and keeps soaking it in until I am full and the attention starts leaking out all over the ground. Attention sponge. That’s me!

Me:        So right now, you are not full of attention and leaking?

Stella:    Right now, I am as dry as a bone. Bone. Now there’s an idea. I could go for one of those about now.

Me:        Would that fill your attention quota?

Stella:    Quota? You use such strange words. Would I be a leaky sponge if I had a bone? No. But add in a shoulder massage and a tummy rub (not one of those one, two, three, and you’re done sort of tummy rubs either), a few treats and a head rub, and throw in one of those long, boring human stories you like to tell…

Me:        Boring?

Stella:    It’s you and me, Lady Human. Don’t worry. I don’t expect it to be exciting.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

My Special Rain Place – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen Illustrious and Noble, Queen of the Old English Bulldogges. QUEEN! As Queen, I should be able to do what I want when I want, but I find that the humans have other plans. Why?

Me:        Why what?

Stella:    Why can’t I pee where I want?

Me:        I think you pretty much do. Though you are good about not peeing inside the house or garage and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.

Stella:    I am not talking about the house. I know that is not a bathroom spot – except for humans who are privileged, I suppose. Anyway, I am talking about the yard on rainy days.

Me:        Yes?

Stella:    I have a special rain spot.

Me:        I know and I have never understood why.

Stella:    Why? Why? Wait a second. Why? Oh, yeah. On rainy days, I must pee in the small yard by the driveway. Period. Done deal.

Me:        But why? It is the same property, the same ground. The only difference is that there is a fence separating the back yard from the driveway area and garden. I have never understood why you won’t go out in the yard in the rain, but you will go in the driveway area. It makes no sense.

Stella:    It makes perfect bulldog sense.

Me:        Please explain perfect bulldog sense which makes no sense to me.

Stella:    It’s because all the other bulldogs use the yard on rainy days, that’s why!

Me:        So?

Stella:    Don’t you understand, Lady Human? Rain makes everything run together.

Me:        Okay?

Stella:    Yuck! I don’t want to walk in diluted pee-pee! At least, in my special rain place, all the pee is just me.

Me:        I hate to admit it, Stella, but that makes some sense.

Stella:    Think about it. My footprints in the mud. My puddles. Not shared with anyone else. I am a queen. My special rain place.

Me:        Okay. I get it.

Stella:    And now the next step will be to get my own indoor bathroom.

Me:        Uh-oh.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Do the Bulldog Conga – Conversations with Stella

Hello! I am Stella, still Illustrious Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, feeling a little left out the past few days as Lady Human and Tall Man have been partying with humans and have not even had the decency to bring home leftovers or include us in their human shenanigans.

Me:        I am sorry. No bulldogs were invited.

Stella:    For shame, Lady Human! A whole world of bulldogs and none were allowed. Without bulldogs, I’ll bet it was boring.

Me:        No. It was pretty fun. One of the guests pulled me into a conga line and I actually danced. Well, it was more like a slow run, but I still did it. That’s so unlike me.

Stella:    What is a ‘conga line’?

Me:        Everybody gets in a line and you put your hands on the shoulders of the person in front of you and you start moving to the music. Our line snaked around the room in between tables, and we danced until the music stopped.

Stella:    More like slow running.

Me:        Yeah, but we laughed a lot.

Stella:    Bulldogs can conga line. We put our feet on each other’s shoulders all the time. And we can slow run. We might fall off, but we can climb back on.

Me:        And someone will snarl. And someone will snap or growl. And then a fight might break out.

Stella:    Exactly, just like the humans. We would feel right at home.

Me:        It was probably better that there were no bulldogs allowed. It might have gotten overcrowded.

Stella:    We still should have been invited. That would’ve been polite.

Me:        But then we would have had to invite collies and corgis.

Stella:    I like collies and corgis.

Me:        And Labradors and poodles.

Stella:    I like Labradors and poodles.

Me:        And then we would have had to invite cats.

Stella:    NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! NO CATS ALLOWED! If cats come to a party, I won’t attend!

Me:        What’s so bad about cats at a party?

Stella:    Cats do NOT know how to conga!

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Pretty Is As Pretty Does – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    Whatcha doin’, Lady Human?

Me:        I’m sewing some bling on an old top to make it look better. I want to look good come Saturday.

Stella:    Saturday?

Me:        That’s what we call the seventh day of the week. Each day has a name.

Stella:    And humans are supposed to look good on Saturday?

Me:        Well, I need to look good on this coming Saturday. My youngest child is getting married.

Stella:    Your puppy?

Me:        No, Stella. Human child. Not puppy. Remember?

Stella:    What is ‘married’?  Is that like taking a long, long nap?

Me:        It can feel like that sometimes, but, no, it is when 2 people start a life together. This Saturday is my daughter’s wedding day. There will be a ceremony.

Stella:    A ceremony. I understand. Like when a dog buries a bone.

Me:        Not exactly. Humans dress up for our ceremonies. I am trying to look decent for this wedding, but I’m not sure I’m succeeding.

Stella:    Humans worry about silly things. Your child is getting married and you are thinking about how your clothes look.

Me:        Humans can be very judgmental.

Stella:    Your clothes don’t make you. Your heart makes you. If I were getting married, I would want you to be there, no matter what you were wearing. I love you for your heart, Lady Human, not for your clothes.

Me:        Thank you, Stella. I love you for your heart, too, not for your…well…lack of clothes.

Stella:    Hey, are you calling me naked?

Me:        Yeah.

Stella:    Fair enough.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Puppy Days of Old – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    Lady Human!

Me:        I’m here! No need to shout.

Stella:    Where are you?

Me:        Here in the hall, digging through old boxes of family pictures.

Stella:    My family?

Me:        No, sorry. I don’t have any old pictures of your family. Or even of you. You were grown by the time you came to us.

Stella:    Do you remember your puppy days?

Me:        No.

Stella:    That’s too bad.

Me:        Because as we have discussed before, I was never a puppy.

Stella:    But you were little once.

Me:        Yes, I was a human child.

Stella:    Too bad you weren’t a puppy. We could compare memories.

Me:        What puppy memories do you have?

Stella:    Fuzzy ones. My mom. Her warm body. Her milk which was the best thing ever.

Me:        Better than food and treats now?

Stella:    Maybe not better. Different but good. And then there were my brothers and sisters. Squirmy little varmints. Always pushing me aside so they could eat first, just because I was smaller.

Me:        Did your sister, Snoopey, push you aside?

Stella:    Well, no.

Me:        Because I heard a story about you and Snoopey from when you were young.

Stella:    Uh-oh.

Me:        Yeah. I heard that you and Tiger’s mom picked on Snoopey. Is that true?

Stella:    I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may prove that you are right.

Me:        Stella?

Stella:    Well, Tiger’s mom made me do it.

Me:        Stella?

Stella:    Oh, all right. When you are smaller than everybody and some big dog befriends you, sometimes you go along with their bulldog bullying and….maybe you do some things that you shouldn’t…and maybe later you regret being a jerk. So there.

Me:        Especially when the dog you picked on ended up being your pack leader?

Stella:    Hey, sisters play tricks on each other.

Me:        I wouldn’t know myself.

Stella:    Because you were an only puppy.

Me:        Child.

Stella:    Whatever.

Me:        Do you ever wonder if how you all treated her is what made Snoopey the pack leader she is now, always looking out for everybody else?

Stella:    Everybody except Tiger.

Me:        Yeah, they still don’t get along, do they?

Stella:    Nope.

Me:        I am glad that you two do.

Stella:    WAAAAHHH! Lady Human, I was so mean! Why was I so mean?

Me:        You were a puppy. You’ve grown up since then. Don’t cry. It was a long time ago in dog years.

Stella:    Are you calling me old?

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Random Acts of Bulldog Kindness – Conversations with Stella

I am, as I always have been and ever shall be, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me:        Have you always been a queen?

Stella:    Queens are born, not made, Lady Human.

Me:        So, you were automatically a queen from the moment of your birth.

Stella:    Yes. Yes, I believe that I was.

Me:        And birth order had nothing to do with it, because I’m not sure…

Stella:    Silence! Do not question your queen!

Me:        My queen? I am not an Olde English Bulldogge. Or any bulldog. Or any dog, for that matter.

Stella:    Still we love you. Which is why we show you kindness by licking your feet.

Me:        Feet licking is defined as kindness?

Stella:    Of course. Foot washing is one of the old human customs, isn’t it? Didn’t you read me the story of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet? And didn’t the dogs lick Lazarus’ wounds?

Me:        Yes.

Stella:    And didn’t you tell me that when people went on long journeys, one of the first acts of kindness was when their host would wash their feet and even your ancestors practiced that as a courtesy in the deep woods of whatever scary part of the world it was they were from?

Me:        Texas. Yes, it was refreshing and welcome after a long, hot walk or ride.

Stella:    And your great – great – great – great – great – great – great – great – great…

Me:        Okay, how ever many times great…

Stella:    …grand sire would pay his grandchildren a nickel a piece if they would wash his feet on a hot day?

Me:        A nickel was a small fortune to a young child way back then. They could buy candy and pencils and all kinds of things for that.

Stella:    Which reminds me, Lady Human, wouldn’t a nickel buy a lot of treats?

Me:        Well, not much at today’s prices. Besides, are you performing random acts of bulldog kindness for reward?

Stella:    No, you are giving us treats as random acts of human kindness. I mean, just because an act is kind doesn’t mean it has to be uneven, right?

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Special Me – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Illustrious Queen of the Olde English Bulldogs – not the Olde French Bulldogs (even though I love their little bodies and cute smooshy faces), not the Olde Russian Bulldogs (I think that they do not exist, so how could I be their queen?), or even the Olde American Bulldogs (as there are no “old” style American anythings. Americans are all “new style”, so there!)

Hello, humans and dogs. And cats, if any are reading this (which I doubt).

Allow me to introduce my subject of the day. ME! Me, me, me, wonderful me! Me all the time, all day and all night! Me, me, me, special bulldog me!

Why am I so special? Permit me to explain.

Me:        I know you will whether you are permitted to or not.

Stella:    Never mind Lady Human, dear readers. She is envious of my specialness.

Me:        As if that’s a real thing.

Stella:    I am special because, unlike the humans (and some dogs), I do not pay attention to the human news. What do I do instead? NAP! Try it out. It is wonderful. If I don’t feel like napping through the human news, I snack. That is why I always save a little bit of my food for later, unlike the other bulldogs who seem to think that woofing it all down in a few minutes is the way to go. If I don’t like what I am hearing on the human news, I can drown it out with crunching. I recommend it, humans. Crunching good food drowns out a lot of other noise.

Do you know why else I am special?

Me:        I await with bated breath.

Stella:    Bated breath? Is that like bulldog breath after Doodlebug has eaten something that he shouldn’t have? Because if it is that, ewww! Not interested!

Me:        No, it means I can’t wait to hear what else you have to say about your specialness.

Stella:    Well, in that case, let me tell you. I am special because Lady Human lets me come into her room and she helps me get up on her bed and she doesn’t mind if I start flipping around and get really excited and grin a lot and even drool (a little – I am not a big time drooler) and I breathe heavily and lick her and step on her. She doesn’t mind if I think her room stinks of weird smells and I want to leave suddenly. She does not take it personally. And so, there it is. I am special.

Me:        Yes, you are.

Stella:    You think so, too!

Me:        Yes, and some day, if you are ready for a good cry, I will tell you all the reasons why, I believe, God Most High brought you to me. Special me.

Stella:    I would like to hear that, Lady Human. But meanwhile, it’s not special you. It’s Special Me.

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

It’s Past Your Bedtime, Human! – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen Illustrious and Noble. Oh, and I am an Olde English Bulldogge.

Me:        And you all are not, I repeat, NOT in charge of my sleep schedule. I repeat – NOT!

Stella:    How rude, Lady Human, and how excessively repetitive! And how incorrect.

Me:        No, no, no. You all govern much of my daily schedule. You have no say-so as to when I go to bed.

Stella:    Personally, I don’t care, but Snoopey expects a regular sleepy time.

Me:        So I heard.

Stella:    She told you?

Me:        She complains loudly starting around 10 p.m.

Stella:    Why don’t you just go to bed when she wants to?

Me:        Bulldogs are not the only creatures that can be stubborn.

Stella:    Yes, we are!

Me:        No, you’re not!

Stella:    Yes, we are! Yes, we are! Yes, we are! Are you trying to ruin our reputation?

Me:        I am an adult human. NOBODY tells me when to go to bed!

Snoopey:   Time for bed!

Me:        Okay.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Bulldog Poetry in the Dark – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me:        I am a little fuzzy on the whole queen thing. Can you give the bulldogs commands? Will they mind you?

Stella:    Can I? I can. Do I? All the time. Will they mind? Quien sabe? Did you notice that? I answered in Spanish. I am a bilingual dog! Yay me!

Me:        If you say so.

Stella:    I know you, Lady Human. You would not be bringing this question up if there were not something you want me to order the bulldogs to do.

Me:        Yes. PLEASE, no more extended barking during the dark.

Stella:    Who was doing that?

Me:        You know who.

Stella:    Was it me?

Me:        No. Wait. Wouldn’t you know if you were barking?

Stella:    Not if I were in the middle of one of my wonderful Flying Stella squirrel chasing dreams. Wonderful. Flying. Me.

Me:        No, it was not you. It was Miss Sweetie. It was 5 a.m., really 4 a.m. if you don’t go by Daylight Savings Time, also known as Fake Time. Not a sunray in sight and she was popping off and nothing was wrong. It was pitch dark and I was trying to sleep.

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Stella:    Of course, nothing was wrong. And that was not barking.

Me:        You could’ve fooled me.

Stella:    We often do, Lady Human. You notice that no one else joined in.

Me:        So, she was not barking even though it sounded just like barking.

Stella:    It was Bulldog Poetry. Sweetie is a Bulldog Poet like me.

Me:        What was she saying?

Stella:    Oh, I don’t know. It was pitch dark and I was trying to sleep.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Eat, Eat, And Eat Again! – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, Illustrious, Noble, and slightly ticked off. I eat once a day (not counting treats), sometimes twice a day if I don’t feel like finishing my breakfast all at one time. But Lady Human is another matter. She eats umpteen gillion times a day (yes, that is a number – a bulldog number) and she never offers me any.

Me:        You eat exactly as much as is recommended for you. If I start giving you my food, there will be no end.

Stella:    Of course not, because you never stop eating.

Me:        Nonsense.

Stella:    How many times a day do you eat?

Me:        I refuse to be judged by a bulldog. Especially not by a bulldog with your fascination over food.

Stella:    How many? How many? How many?

Me:        Oh, all right. Stop hopping up and down. Well, there is breakfast.

Stella:    And then?

Me:        Second breakfast?

Stella:    Like those cute Hobbits in that long, long movie with all the ugly orcs and that Ring that everybody just had to have. I understand. Sometimes one breakfast is simply not enough.

Me:        Then lunch. And then a light snack, usually fruit. And after that, a high protein snack. And finally, supper.

Stella:    Lady Human, for shame!

Me:        I break my food consumption up into 6 small meals a day instead of 3 larger ones. It works well for me.

Stella:    And what do you call your meal of cookies, brownies, cake, and candy?

Me:        I don’t make a meal of that.

Stella:    Uh-huh.

Me:        I mean I may have some of that stuff once in a while, but it’s not a meal.

Stella:    Uh-huh.

Me:        It’s not!

Stella:    Share with me when you decide to eat it next time.

Me:        I can’t. It’s not healthy…

Stella:    Ummm! Caught!

Me:        Hey, there’s a lot of stuff that is healthy for me, that I can eat but you can’t – avocados, grapes, raisins, garlic, onions, chocolate…

Stella:    Cookies, brownies, cake, candy.

Me:        Why is it important to you what I eat?

Stella:    I care.

Me:        Stella, I’m touched. That is so sweet. You care.

Stella:    Of course, I care. I will always care. Food. It’s what’s for supper.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Foot Bath Furor – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

As a human, I am constantly surprised by what sets the bulldogs off. The latest barking/whining frenzy started…

Stella:    When your feet disappeared, Lady Human! WHEN YOUR FEET DISAPPEARED!

Miss Sweetie:    Nooooo! Where did they go, Lady Human? Horrible!

Stella:    Settle down, Sweetie! I will make Lady Human tell us where her feet went!

Me:        This is a foot bath.

Stella:    It eats feet! Keep it far away from us! We have lots of feet!

Me:        Look! See! Here are my feet!

Miss Sweetie:    They are back! Wonderful! You are so talented, Lady Human.

Me:        It is a foot bath. I put my feet down in it like this…

Miss Sweetie:    Noooo! They’re gone again! Why?

Me:        And I take them out like this.

Miss Sweetie:    What a relief! They are back! Lady Human is my hero. She can do anything.

Me:        Not exactly.

Doodlebug:        Why are you letting that monster chew on your feet?

Me:        It is full of warm water and I soak my feet in it.

Tiger:     Ridiculous. Why would anyone volunteer to put their feet in a box of water?

Snoopey:  Tiger is always wrong. I have never agreed with her. Until now.

Me:        Look, y’all. It’s a matter of perspective. From where you are, I can understand that it looks like my feet disappear.

Wiggles:   Yeah, your legs look funny with a big box on the end of them. Your feet disappear, and then they come back, and then they disappear, and then they come back. You are the funniest human ever.

Stella:    Wiggles, it’s not funny! It’s scary. And the box of water is making a growling noise. I don’t trust it.

Me:        Come over here, Stella, and look down into the foot bath. You can see my feet.

Stella:    No way, Lady Human! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on you again. Why are you trying to fool a poor ole bulldog?

Me:        Wait. When did I fool you once?

Stella:    Not important.

Me:        Perspective. What things look like from where you sit may not be the way they really are.

Stella:    Good, because from where I sit, that box of water on your feet looks weird and scary.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J Hill All Rights Reserved.

I Will Take No Further Questions! – Stella’s Audience with the Pack

I, Stella, yes, me. Queen. Illustrious. Noble. Olde English Bulldogge. All of that.  I hereby declare this audience open and I will take no further questions.

Me:        You just opened the audience. Why not?

Stella:    That is a question.

Me:        Technically, yes.

Stella:    Let me be clear. I will take no more questions from you, Lady Human.

Me:        Just me?

Stella:    That is a question. No questions from you.

Me:        Why not? What did I do wrong?

Stella:    Those are 2 questions. I will entertain questions from anyone else.

Me:        There are no other humans present right now.

Stella:    Then human questions must wait. I may have some time next year, whatever a year is.  Are there any bulldogs with questions?

Tiger:     Yes.  Why are you the queen and why are you so rude?

Stella:    Those are 2 questions also. Please do not try my patience by attempting to string multiple questions together, pretending that they are one long question. Plus I don’t like your questions. I hereby amend my declaration. No more questions from Lady Human or Tiger. Next!

Miss Sweetie:    I have a question, Aunt Stella.

Stella:    Go ahead, Sweetie.

Miss Sweetie:    Why?

Stella:    Why what?

Miss Sweetie:    Why? Just why? Why daytime? Why night? Why up? Why down? Why do I have four legs and Lady Human only has two? Why this? Why not that?

Stella:    Halt! New amendment to my declaration. No further questions from anyone under the age of two.

Wiggles:   I have a question. I am older than two.

Stella:    Good, Wiggles. What is your question?

Wiggles:   Hahahahaha! You asked a question. Now I have to answer it…Never mind. I forgot.

Stella:    Awwwggghhh. Whose idea was it to have these audiences?

Me:        Sorry, not taking questions from you right now.

Wiggles:  You said it was what queens do. Hey, Stella, there! I answered a question. Hahahaha!

Snoopey:   I have something to say.

Stella:    Very well. Proceed.

Snoopey:   Be quiet!

Stella:    That was not a question.

Snoopey: It is the answer.

Stella:    To what question, pray tell?

Snoopey:   To any question. Especially the question of what do you say to Stella when she is being loud and rude?

Stella:    Insolent and insubordinate.

Snoopey:  Exactly.

Stella:    That’s it! End of the audience. I will not take any further questions from anyone. Next audience, I will be asking AND answering my own questions. I like my questions better. Dismissed!

Snoopey:   Lady Human, when is the next audience? It ought to be a hoot.

Lady Human:      I’ll bring the popcorn.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Queen Stella Holds Court – Conversations with Stella

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, am entertaining a question from Lady Human. Human queens call this an audience, but that is strange because only the two of us are here. Anyway, go on and ask thy question.

Me:        Very gracious of you.

Stella:    Indeed, it is. Pray, what is thy question?

Me:        Why are you talking like that?

Stella:    Thou hast been playing the Picture Box a lot with many people on it talking this way. I think that they speak prettily.

Me:        I suppose they do. Now for my question…

Stella:    I have already answered thy question.

Me:        No, I haven’t asked it yet.

Stella:    Yes, thou didst. Thou asked about my pretty talk.

Me:        That was just because it sounded so weird coming from your mouth. I had another question.

Stella:    Thou hast my permission to proceed. Ask thy annoying question.

Me:        How do you know it is annoying?

Stella:    All human questions are annoying. I would rather be napping.

Me:        Okay, what I want to understand is…

Stella:    No, thou hast already asked thy second question.

Me:        Hey, not fair!

Stella:    I am Queen. I decide what is fair.

Me:        That alone is grossly unfair.

Stella:    Silence, churl!

Me:        Okay, off goes the television.

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.