Bulldog Ballet – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Doodlebug:        And I am Doodlebug Dancing Dog. Please use my full name.

Miss Sweetie:    Nope. It’s too long. I will keep calling you Doodle.

Me:        He always makes me laugh when he does that. I just wish I knew when he was going to do it.

Stella:    What? That prancing he does on his hind legs? That’s not dancing. That’s two-footed, tall dog begging. Haven’t you noticed, Lady Human?

Me:        Noticed what?

Stella:    He only does it when you have food in your hands. I thought humans were smart and observant. I guess I was wrong again.

Tiger:     That’s nothing. Look what I can do. Spin. Spin. Spin. Now the other way. Spin. Spin. Spin.

Me:        You two should start a ballet company. Toe dancers.

Wiggles:   I can dance. Watch. MMMPH! UMMMPH! No, I can’t. Never mind.

Me:        You can comma dance. More like tap dancing than ballet…

Wiggles:   That makes me Wiggles Comma Dancer.

Tiger:     What is my dancing name?

Stella:    Tiger Twinkle Toes.

Tiger:     How dare you!

Me:        How about something that takes your spinning into account? Something like Tiger Torque Wrench.

Tiger:     Yes, that is more dignified for a strong bulldog like me. Thank you, Lady Human.

Me:        Miss Sweetie, do you want to dance?

Miss Sweetie:    Mmmm, nope.

Me:        It would be good exercise.

Miss Sweetie:    I already exercise. Cat chasing. Couch jumping. Rampaging. Oh, and the most important exercise. Napping. Call me Sweetie Snooze Sleeper.

Stella:    No one is going to buy a ticket to watch that.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Fun Times – Conversations with Stella and Wiggles

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human and Wiggles went off together by themselves the other day. I have held my peace in patience UNTIL NOW! Where did you go? What did you do? Why were you gone so long?

Me:        And why is any of this your business?

Stella:    Everything having to do with the Pack is my business. I am the Queen. If someone is having fun, I need to know about it so that I can demand equal fun time for me.

Me:        If you must know, Wiggles and I went to the vet the other day.

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Stella:    Wrong answer! Visits to the vet never take that long.

Me:        They do when the vet is super busy. Wiggles, where did we go in the car?

Wiggles:   To a place I have been before.

Me:        I know. But what happened there?

Wiggles:   Stuff.

Stella:    I know what you were doing. You were eating ice cream and corny dogs.

Me:        Wiggles, were we eating anything?

Wiggles:   No, there was no eating. I kept waiting and then that nice lady said something about a treat and then nothing like that happened and I was sad.

Me:        What did happen?

Wiggles:   One nice lady poked something into my rear end. That was not a treat. And then another nice lady let a bug bite me.

Me:        That was a rabies vaccination.

Wiggles:   She should not have let that bite me.

Me:        It’s not a bug. It’s a shot with a needle.

Wiggles:   She caught me when I was not looking. Not fair.

Me:        Okay, Stella, does that sound like lots of fun to you?

Stella:    I’m still not sure what was going on.  But I’m sure I smelled corny dog on Wiggles’ breath when she got back.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Bulldog Reveille – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. It is a dark and non-stormy night.

Me:        Excuse me. It is 6 o’clock in the morning.

Stella:    It is dark outside. Why is it dark outside? Where is the sun? Why did you wake me up at this unreasonable hour?

Me:        I did not wake you up at this unreasonable hour. You woke me up.

Stella:    Why did I wake you up at this unreasonable hour? Oh, I remember. Potty.

Doodlebug:        Breakfast call! Breakfast call! Breakfast call!

Me:        Okay, I hear you, Doodle.

Doodlebug:        Breakfast call! Breakfast call! Breakfast call!

Me:        All right, Doodle! I hear you!

Doodlebug:        Breakfast call! Breakfast…

Stella:    Potty call comes first! Coming through! Running out!

Me:        Here’s your breakfast. And your breakfast. And your breakfast. And your breakfast. And Stella’s breakfast.

Tiger:     Why are we eating in the dark?

Me:        Ask Stella and Doodlebug.

Tiger:     Doodle, why did call breakfast so early?

Doodlebug:        My stomach said it was the right thing to do.

Miss Sweetie:    But I don’t want to potty in the dark.

Me:        Then just run outside and run back in. The outside light is on.

Wiggles:    It’s no different than pottying in the sun, Sweetie. The landmarks are all the same.

Tiger:     Doodlebug should not be calling breakfast. I should be.

Wiggles:   If we waited for that, Tiger, we would never have breakfast.

Doodlebug:        Besides, my voice is bigger because my head is bigger.

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Me:        Doodle, do you realize that about 2 weeks ago, it would have been 5 o’clock in the morning right now instead of 6 a.m.?

Doodlebug:        No.

Me:        What I mean is you are going the wrong way. Breakfast is getting earlier and earlier.

Doodlebug:        Earlier breakfast. That doesn’t sound wrong to me.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Where Did My Hair Get Off To? – Conversations with Stella and Wiggles

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human, you need to give Wiggles some of your clothes.

Me:        Why?

Stella:    She is running around naked.

Me:        Technically, so are you. So are all of you.

Stella:    Nonsense. I am covered with hair. I am never naked. That is my natural state. But just look at Wiggles. She is naked on both sides.

Me:        Yeah, she’s blown her coat again. That happens about once a year with her. A good number of dogs blow their coats going from winter into spring. Her coat is a lot thinner than yours so when she loses hair, her skin shows through.

Wiggles:   Where did my hair get off to?

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Me:        Check the ground.

Wiggles:   Please sweep it up and stick it back on, Lady Human. Stella keeps calling me naked like that’s something bad. Is that bad?

Me:        Well, you’re only missing some hair on your sides. It’s growing back in.

Wiggles:   My sides do feel a little breezy when the wind blows. Maybe I should go naked all the time, especially in the hot season.

Stella:    NOOOO!!! Nobody wants to see that! Cover it up! Cover it up! Somebody, find my sweater!

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Ice Bath – Conversations with Stella and Miss Sweetie

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Miss Sweetie is a beloved member of our pack. She is an idiot.

Miss Sweetie:    I love you, too, Aunt Stella.

Me:        Sweetie is not an idiot. She’s a little…quirky…sometimes. And at other times, she is scary smart.

Stella:    Would that be when she sits in the puppy pool full of rainwater on a morning when the temperature was…what was the temperature this morning, Lady Human?

Me:        48 degrees Fahrenheit.

Stella:    48 degrees fah…blah…blah…whatever that means. Bottom line, it was a trifle cool this morning to go for a swim.

Me:        It was chilly, Sweetie. I was surprised to see you try it.

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Miss Sweetie:    The trees are green. The birds are singing. The sky is clear. Aunt Stella says that means winter is over. That means SWIMMING WEATHER!

Me:        Swimming weather may take a while longer to arrive. Didn’t you find the water in the puppy pool a little too cold for comfort?

Miss Sweetie:    Now that you mention it, I sat down in it and it was not comfortable, so I stood up and then my feetsies got cold, so I stepped out of it.

Stella:    In short, it was too cold to get in the puppy pool which all the rest of us seemed to know.

Me:        I have dumped out the rainwater, so it won’t be a temptation.

Miss Sweetie:    No! How will I swim?

Stella:    Sweetie, you can’t swim in the puppy pool.  It’s not swimming weather yet.

Miss Sweetie:   They are my feetsies. If I want to ice my own toes, my business.

Stella:    Do you see, Lady Human? Now you understand what we are dealing with.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Finders Keepers – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human has lost something. She shows all the classic human signs. She picks up stuff and puts stuff down again. She keeps circling the same areas, looking, looking. This has been going on for hours. I wish I could help. What are you searching for, Lady Human?

Me:        Oh, those toenail clippers I was using on y’all the other day.

Stella:    I am sorry that I asked. I wish you all the failure in the world.

Me:        Well, that’s rude. I had them right here and I have no idea where I put them. Wait. One of the bulldogs didn’t carry them off, did they?

Stella:    I don’t know. Did they? How would I know? What do I look like? Their queen?

Me:        I understand that you all don’t like getting your nails trimmed.

Stella:    Don’t like? Mild language indeed.

Me:        I’ll check in the yard. Maybe Wiggles sneaked out with them.

Stella:    Pssst! Hey, Wiggles, did you snatch the nail cutters?

Wiggles:   Mmmm. What do they taste like?

Stella:    If you see them, grab them. The longer they stay missing, the longer we are free from nail chopping.

Me:        Never mind. No worries. Tall Man found them under a cushion on the couch. Wonder how they ended up there.

Stella:    Awww.

Miss Sweetie:    Sorry, Aunt Stella. I tried. I’m not that good at hide and seek nail clippers.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

3 Reasons Why This Saturday is Crappy – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. This is a crappy Saturday. Here are the reasons why:

  • It is raining…again. We have already had rain this year. Someone needs to cancel the order. We don’t need any more.
  • Today was Toenail Trimming Day, the worst day known to bulldogs, or any dogs, for that matter.
  • The cat is even weirder than usual. She has taken to wearing a bizarre collar and she looks like a sea monster.

There! My list is complete. The End.

Me:   Hello. I have a few reasons why this Saturday is not crappy at all.

  • Yes, there has been a lot of rain thus far this year, but we will be glad of it come summer, so, no, we will not be cancelling any “order” for rain.
  • Toenail Trimming Day is far more trying for the humans in your lives than for you. With more cooperation from the bulldogs, it might turn into a fun event.
  • Moon the Cat is wearing a protective collar to keep her from licking and exacerbating her itchy skin condition and, if anyone should be able to commiserate with itchy skin conditions, it should be a bulldog. She is not “weirder than usual” and you all have been very rude to her today.

Stella:   Rude to a cat? Impossible! And as for Toenail Trimming Day, why don’t you try it sometime, Lady Human? You let someone cut your nails and tell me how you feel then.

Me:   I have to trim my fingernails all the time. If I don’t, they interfere with my work. And I certainly don’t whine about it the way you all do.

Stella:   Whine? Whine, you say? No bulldog has ever been known to whine in the history of…well…bulldogs. Dignified complainers. That’s what we are. And please see to it that Sunday turns out to be less crappy than Saturday has been.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Best Friends Are Hard to Replace – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human! Complaint!

Me:        I’ll bet I know what it is, too. From the look on your face and the pffft sound from your mouth.

Stella:    Why, oh why?

Me:        Why is the cat on my lap?

Stella:    No. My question is why is the cat on your lap all the time?

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Me:        I think she wants some extra comfort, companionship.

Stella:    She can get that from across the room like normal.

Me:        She’s not feeling normal just now.

Stella:    She didn’t do that before Snoopey…oh.

Me:        For whatever reason, she and Snoopey were best friends.

Stella:    Well, that’s simply weird. Weird of Snoopey and weird of the cat. I never did understand that. Think about it. Cat. Self-explanatory. That says it all. And then bulldog. Everybody knows what that means. And one thing it doesn’t mean is friendship with cats.

Me:        And still, there it was. Who else did Snoopey ever allow into her crate with her?

Stella:    That’s easy. Nobody, because nobody else would fit in there with her. We are all bulldogs, remember?

Me:        I never forget. Okay, who else other than the cat did Snoopey ever have a full-blown conversation with?

Stella:    You.

Me:        Yeah. That’s true. Not that we understood each other well, but we did talk. A lot.

Stella:    So you don’t mind that Moon the Cat is climbing onto your lap all the time. It’s fine with you.

Me:        It’s all right. I understand why.

Stella:    It’s not all right with me! It’s really ticking me off!

Me:        Maybe you could consider becoming her new best friend.

Stella:    Lady Human! I’m surprised at you! What ugly talk!  I just want things to go back to normal, when bulldogs were bulldogs and Moon the Cat was her old arrogant, stand-offish, snooty self.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Down the Short Hall – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Wait while I run down this little hall.

Me:        You’ve been going down there every day. You used to ignore it.

Stella:    I have to check.

Me:        Oh, because Snoopey ran down that hall every morning to avoid having to pass by Tiger?

Stella:    What if she is in the front room, waiting to come through the kitchen, like she did almost every morning? I have to check.

Me:        Stella, baby, she’s not in there.

Stella:    But she could be. You would always open the kitchen door and she would run in and she and Tiger could start the morning in peace.

Me:        She’s not there.

Stella:    No. She’s not here. You think I am silly.

Me:        Not at all. The first two mornings after she passed, I opened the kitchen door myself. It was too hard to believe that she wouldn’t be coming through it.

Stella:    It still smells like her a little. Not as much as before.

Me:        That’s to be expected. Come on, girl.

Stella:    It smells like somebody else, too. Yep.

Me:        Nobody comes in here but me and Tall Man.

Stella:    Wiggles. Definitely.

Me:        Are you sure?

Stella:    Yep. This is Wiggles’ second bathroom.

Me:        Oh, no, you’re kidding. Third, if you count outside. Maybe fourth, if you count the cleaning rag box.

Stella:    Wow, Wiggles gets around.

Me:        Let’s go back in the other room.

Stella:    I won’t visit down here again looking for you, Snoopey, but I won’t forget you. If there’s a kitchen door where you are, wait for us there.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

When Humans Let Cats Rule – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I am witnessing the most ridiculous scene of the last one hundred years, at least since yesterday.

Me:        One hundred years? We truly have to work on your sense of time.

Stella:    Hey, I’m not the one who changed all the clocks and then complained about it. My stomach clock is still on Stella time. Doodlebug got up an extra hour early on his own. If you noticed, I didn’t budge.

Me:        I did notice. What is so ridiculous?

Stella:    You. The way you are sitting. The way you are letting the cat rule the roost. And she isn’t even a chicken.

Me:        I’m just allowing her a little bit to wake up from her nap.

Stella:    She is taking up most of your chair, Lady Human. YOUR CHAIR! NOT HER CHAIR! YOUR CHAIR! You are sitting on the edge of YOUR CHAIR, need I repeat it.

Me:        No, you need not. She’ll get up in a minute.

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Stella:    This is what results from humans cutting cats too much slack. I’ve never seen so much slack in my life. Just look at her, all slacky and stretched out and slinky and catlike. Yuck.

Me:        She’ll move.

Stella:    Famous first words.

Me:        The expression is ‘Famous last words’.

Stella:    Exactly. First words become last words and the cat is still there. Give a cat an inch and she’ll take over your chair. Another human saying.

Me:        Not exactly.

Stella:    Well, it should be. When humans let cats rule, no chair is safe.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Itchy Spots We Can’t Reach – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Scratch my back!

Me:        Okay.

Stella:    No, over there. No, over here. Now this spot. Don’t stop.

Me:        Move in closer.

Stella:    You move in closer.

Me:        Hey, I’ve got the fingernails that can reach anywhere, but I’m not putting my arm out of joint.

Stella:    Hey, I’ve got the itchies that can reach anywhere, but I’m already sitting over here.

Me:        Hold on.

Stella:    What are you doing?

Me:        All this scratching is making me itchy. I can’t reach down the center of my back either.

Stella:    You’re funny. You look like a bear rubbing against a tree.

Me:        A door frame makes a good back scratcher if nothing else is handy.

Stella:    Not so much if you’re shaped like a bulldog. Now get back to work using your fingers for what they were made for – scratching my unreachable itchies.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Wait? – What Does That Even Mean? – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Humans do not mean what they say, nor do they say what they mean. It is an age-old problem. I should know. I am ages old.

Me:        What? Just how old do you think you are?

Stella:    Humans say that you are as old as you feel. Today I feel 1,456 years old.

Me:        Very interesting. So you weren’t born in this century. I thought you said that humans do not mean what we say or say what we mean. It’s beginning to sound as though you have that problem, too. I guarantee you that you are not over a thousand years old.

Stella:    Strange words coming from you, Lady Human. You have no sense of time.

Me:        I think my sense of time is…

Stella:    Who wakes the household every morning at the same time? Give or take a few of what you all call ‘minutes’.

Me:        Doodlebug.

Stella:    His stomach works like the toy you call a ‘clock’. Humans have entirely too many toys. Maybe Doodlebug swallowed one.

Me:        Nope. His digestive system operates on a schedule.

Stella:    What I need right now is to go outside and potty…

Me:        Hold on. Wait a couple of minutes until I finish this.

Stella:    A couple? What is a couple?

Me:        More like 5 minutes. Wait 5 minutes.

Stella:    Okay. One…two…three…four…five. Five minutes is up.

Me:        That was only a five count, not five minutes.

Stella:    Humans always say ‘wait’. It must be your most important, most favoritest word.

Me:        Favoritest is not a word.

Stella:    It is now. And now is now! And I have to go potty now! Not 5 minutes from now! Now!

Me:        Oh, okay then. Why didn’t you say so?

Stella:    I did. Unlike humans, I say what I mean and mean what I say as you almost found out.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Bedtime Can’t Wait – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human has gotten into a bad habit, one of many.

Me:        One of many? Really?

Stella:    Really. You don’t notice them, do you? That’s why I am here to point them out to you. For example, our bedtime routine has been disrupted by your addiction to the Picture Box.

Me:        If you count the amount of time I spend watching television lately, you will find it greatly reduced.

Stella:    But not at bedtime, the most important time of day other than morning, breakfast, potty times, noon, afternoon, evening, snack time…well, you get the idea.

Me:        You used not to mind.

Stella:    I am older now. My beauty sleep is important to me. It makes my coat shine. You should try it instead of watching big and little Picture Boxes until all hours. It might make your coat shine, too.

Me:        You sleep pretty much whenever you want to.

Stella:    Nighttime is special. It’s dark all over. Can we go to bed now?

Me:        Well, I was just going to finish this one episode…

Stella:    Is it that show with the big water wave at the beginning and the human who turns around super-fast and then the humans rowing a skinny little boat when it’s over.

Me:        Yeah, I’ve noticed that you get up now when I turn the theme song off at the end.

Stella:    Jump when you can. When you’ve seen one huge blue wave and one fast-turning human and one skinny boat being rowed by humans, you’ve seen them all. Bedtime!

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Happy Homecoming – Conversations with Stella

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

Me:        Why? This is a special day!

Stella:    I see nothing special. I hear nothing special. I smell nothing special. Most of all, I taste nothing special.

Me:        Today is the 3rd anniversary of the day you came home to us.

Stella:    Anniversary?  Is that one of those cake days?

Me:        Well, it can be, but I don’t have a cake today.

Stella:    Why ever not?

Me:        Extra calories. You know.

Stella:    No, I don’t. I have never had extra calories, whatever those are, but they sound delicious.

Me:        Yeah, they usually are. What is special about today is not cake or party hats…

Stella:    You have a party hat for me?

Me:        Well, yes. This one.

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Stella:    Now I remember. I don’t like party hats. Without cake or party hats, how can this day be that special?

Me:        Because, on this day three years ago, I received an answer to prayer.

Stella:    The Great Creator answered you and you knew it?

Me:        No, He answered me, and I did not know it. I did not recognize an answered prayer when you were staring me right in the face. All I saw was this big, smoosh-faced bulldog and I had not asked for a bulldog. I had asked for a small, pointy-nosed, brown and white dog that I could help. I thought it was all a mistake.

Stella:    The Great Creator does not make mistakes.

Me:        Did you think that coming here was a mistake?

Stella:    Yes, so I pooped on the floor at your feet just to see.

Me:        Oh, I remember that. That’s the first thing you did after you got here.

Stella:    And you cleaned it up and you didn’t yell at me. And you looked a little tired. And then I thought maybe these people won’t be so bad. I was the dog you could help, only not so small and not pointy-nosed. But brown and white. After all, He doesn’t forget details.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Hey! Missing Chew Stick! Come Here! – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. My favorite chew stick is missing! Who has it? I demand that you bring it back now! If you do, I will forego my royal wrath.

Tiger:     Royal wrath? Is that like you getting all mad? Haha!

Stella:    Where is my chew stick?

Tiger:     Don’t know. Don’t care. Why would I chew on your stick after it has been in your mouth?

Stella:    Where is my chew stick?

Wiggles:   Have you looked…

Stella:    Yes.

Wiggles:   How about over by…

Stella:    YES.

Wiggles:   What about…

Stella:    YES!!!

Wiggles:   Have you asked the chickens? I have been eating their leftovers. Maybe they ate your stick.

Stella:    Doodlebug, did you take it? You have a giant mouth. Are you hiding it in there? I will forgive you if you have it.

Doodlebug:   Would you let me keep it?

Stella:   NO!

Doodlebug:   Then no, I did not take it.

Miss Sweetie:    Aunt Stella, I know where it is.

Stella:    I can’t believe it is missing. I have looked everywhere.

Miss Sweetie:   Aunt Stella, I know where it is. My nose is talking to me.

Stella:    I had it earlier today.

Miss Sweetie:   Aunt Stella…

Me:        I’d listen to her, Stella. I think she’s on to something.

Miss Sweetie:   It’s in your day bed.

Stella:    I looked there! See! I turned around and around and around.

Me:        How many times has she turned around, Sweetie? Let’s count. Five, six, seven, eight…

Miss Sweetie:   I can’t count that high.

Me:        Stella, settle down. You’ve buried it in your blanket.

Stella:    I look, and I turn, and I scratch, and I look, and I turn, and I scratch.

Me:        There!

Stella:    Give it back, blanket! Mine! Finally! Having to wrestle my own blanket for my own chew stick! The world is a crazy place!

Me:        Yeah, I’m exhausted.

Stella:    Now where is my new softie toy?

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Memories Are Made of This – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human, whatcha doin’?

Me:        Looking at some old photographs.

Stella:    Pictures? Pictures of me?

Me:        No.

Stella:    Then why are you wasting your time looking at them? Look at pictures of me. Better yet, look at me.

Me:        These are pictures of someone I knew a long, long time ago. Someone who just passed on.

Stella:    Oh. You mean the way Snoopey passed on.

Me:        Yeah.

Stella:    So you look at pictures to remember.

Me:        It helps me.

Stella:    I remember without pictures. Humans spend a lot of time on stuff like pictures and boxes.

Me:        Yeah, we do. Memories fade though.

Stella:    Not if you practice them. Practice remembering every fine thing about your someone who passed on and then remember their good face.

Me:        Good face?

Stella:    You know. Good face, like when they were having fun, or when they had just finished a big bowl of food or lapped up a bunch of cool water, or just jumped dripping wet out of the puppy pool on a hot day. Of course, Snoopey didn’t do that last one because Snoopey hated water except for the drinking kind. When I remember Snoopey, I remember her hopping up and down at your feet, all excited, bouncing on her front legs. I don’t dwell on her fights with Tiger or, yuck, her long conversations with the cat.

Me:        Thank you, Stella. I’ll still keep the old photos though.

Stella:    So long as they bring you comfort, Lady Human.  And so long as they don’t take your attention away from me.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Never Hold a Conversation with a Chicken – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Chickens are ignorant. If you attempt to talk to them, you are wasting your time. People say that chickens are intelligent, but people are wrong. How can they be all that smart with those tiny little heads and pointy faces?

If you start a conversation with a chicken, you will end up disappointed.

Me:        Well, let’s try this. Hey! Squawky! What’s going on?

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Squawky the Silkie Chicken:   Waaakk!

Stella:    You see! She doesn’t even know how to pronounce her own name.

Me:        Maybe she was not saying her name.

Squawky the Silkie Chicken:   Waaakk waak!

Stella:   There! That’s not even the same thing. She doesn’t know what she is saying.

Me:        Maybe she is saying ‘hello’.

Stella:    That is too many noises for ‘hello’.  Let me ask her a question. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

Me:        You don’t have to yell.

Stella:    I DO IF I WANT HER TO UNDERSTAND ME! SHE DOESN’T SPEAK BULLDOG!

Me:        No yelling.

Squawky the Silkie Chicken:   Waaaak! Waaak! Waak. Waak. Waak.

Stella:   It’s just getting worse. Poor little chicken brain.

Squawky the Silkie Chicken:   Human, please tell your other bulldog to stop digging at our food. It is not for her.

Me:        Wow. That was pretty clear.

Stella:    She has been holding out on us.

Me:        If you have sway with Wiggles, tell her to leave the chicken feed alone.

Stella:    Yeah, she sure doesn’t want her big old bulldog face to meet the angry pointy-faced chickens. I think talking to chickens is a dangerous proposition, Lady Human. Can we trust them?

Squawky the Silkie Chicken:   Waaaaaaakkk!

Stella:    Typical.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

See You Later, Snoopey. Thanks for Everything

This picture is of Snoopey taking a nap on my arm some time ago.

Today Snoopey left us and went into the Hands of God. It was very sudden. She was fine this morning, ate her full breakfast, went outside as usual, and then came back in for her late morning nap. When I called her to go outside again about 12:30 p.m., she didn’t come. She looked peaceful, still napping, but when I touched her, she did not respond. She had passed in her sleep. No sign of pain or distress. Just rest.

For the first time, I did CPR on a dog. To no effect. I am in total disbelief. We believe it was a heart attack. It was so quick.

Snoopey came to us when she was almost 2 years old. We don’t know much about her first 2 years except that people always seemed to be trying to get rid of her. She was great with people, but not so much with dogs. She could tolerate other canines at a distance and that was about it.

When she came to us, I made her a promise that I would never re-home her. By the grace of Almighty God, I was able to keep my promise. On this earth, she was never again re-homed. Until today. This home going is the one that will last forever.

What can I say about Snoopey?

She loved sunbathing and hated the rain. Sadly, this entire week has been cloudy and rainy, and she was not able to sunbathe a single time. I tried to keep up with minute to minute forecasts so that she could go outside during the thin windows of time when it was not pouring rain.

She loved her collar. Some time back, I went to buy her a new one and took the old one off to measure it. She just about went nuts until I put it back on her. A neighbor told me that some dogs feel vulnerable and naked without their collars. Snoopey was one of those. I left her with the pet cremation people this afternoon. The last thing I did was to take off her collar. She won’t need it or miss it anymore. She’ll never feel naked or vulnerable again.

She and Tiger were enemies. True enemies. The ‘Don’t you come over here! I’ll tear you up!” kind of enemies. Both had difficult pasts. Today, after I was sure that Snoopey had gone, I brought each pack member to see and sniff her body. I kept Tiger back until the last. I wasn’t sure what would happen. When Tiger approached Snoopey’s body, she sniffed her face and front feet. The other bulldogs started to bark, and Tiger hunched down protectively over Snoopey’s head and barked back. She stayed there for a few minutes until she started to snip at Snoopey’s hind legs. I pulled her away at that point. I don’t know if she was trying to play with Snoopey or provoke a response from an old nemesis. Tiger is still sniffing around the room for her.

Snoopey was best friends with a cat. Odd for a bulldog. She and Moon the Cat got so close that Snoopey allowed Moon into her crate. No fighting. No hissing. No biting. No scratching. Just friendship. I don’t know what Moon’s reaction to Snoopey’s death will be. Moon was here in the house alone almost 8 years ago when my little Corgi, Susie, laid down and breathed her last in the utility room. I came home from work to find Susie’s body still warm. Moon did not enter the utility room for 6 months (which was awkward since that was where Moon’s litter box was).

Snoopey has been my bed buddy for the last 15 months. She is the first dog that I ever allowed into my bed. When we got up in the mornings, most times, she would sit up and lean against me and I would throw my left arm around her shoulders. They say that dogs don’t like to be hugged, but Snoopey never seemed to mind. I think that I may have been one of the only humans who ever showed her that kind of love and acceptance.

Snoopey and Stella were sisters. Stella knows that Snoopey is gone. She knows more precisely than any other member of the pack. She was sighing and crying quietly this afternoon when I returned from the pet cremation place. LORD God, God of all comfort! Comfort all who mourn and grieve for whatever reason. You Who Are Love, You Who Love Your Creation! Love each of us in the deepest place of our need.

Snoopey was the Pack Leader. Tiger wanted to be, but Snoopey watched over the others. She always checked on them every time she came in from outside.

I confess it. I am a Christian. These words give me hope and encouragement, even in the loss of a dog. God cares for His creatures.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. And He that sat on the throne said, Behold I make all things new…” (Revelation 21:4-5 KJV)

Please hug everyone you love tonight one extra time, even if it is in your prayers and not with your arms. Tonight, when I go to bed, Snoopey won’t be there to hug. But Stella and the others will be.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.
 

 

 

 

 

 

The Growling Sky – Conversations with Stella, Snoopey, and Tiger

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I was outside during a rain break, minding my own business when, for no reason at all, the sky growled at me. GROWLED! AT ME! Sweet little Stella who never bothers anybody, well, except for squirrels and cats.

Me:        The sky did not growl at you. That was thunder.

Stella:    Did you hear?

Me:        Yes. The sky doesn’t growl at anybody.

Stella:    It did at me. So, guess what? I growled back. And then it growled at me again. So, guess what?

Me:        What?

Stella:    I ran away. I ran straight to the back door. And you let me in. And I ran straight into my crate, so the sky couldn’t get me. I am so embarrassed. I am a coward.

Tiger:     You are not a coward, Stella. You are just stupid, that’s all.

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Stella:    How rude!

Tiger:     Which would you prefer? To be called a coward or stupid?

Stella:    I don’t really have a preference, thank you!

Snoopey:   Don’t listen to Tiger, the bulldog who’s afraid of the dark.

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Tiger:     Hey!

Snoopey:   It’s true. How many times does Lady Human offer to let you outside and the second that you see it’s night, you balk and run back to your bed.

Tiger:     So says the one who won’t set foot outside if rain is so much as dripping from the roof or the trees. It’s not even rain anymore. It’s merely water. What are you afraid of, Snoopey? Melting?

Snoopey:    Yes, actually.

Stella:    Snoopey is afraid of falling water. Tiger is afraid of nighttime. I am afraid of the growling sky. All told, my fear is the only one that’s real.

Me:        Oh, the fear is real, the threat not so much.

Stella:    When the sky is angry, it is no threat?

Me:        Yeah, it can be. Thunder means lightning has struck nearby.

Stella:    Lightning? The blue light!

Me:        Untamed electricity.

Stella:    The sky does have fingers then. It did try to grab me. Good news! I was right. The sky does growl. I’m a smart coward.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Puddle Jumpin’ – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Tiny lakes are blocking our path back into the house.

Me:        They are just puddles. Let’s get back in. Rain is starting again in…2 minutes. Maybe. Sometimes they’re pinpoint accurate on these predictions. Sometimes, not so much.

Doodlebug:   Me first. One…two…three…jump! Woo-hoo!

Me:        Well done, Doodle!

Tiger:     Me next! Lope…lope…leap! They said I’d never do that again!

Me:        And look at you now. Well done!

Wiggles:   I can do it! Watch me! Run! Run! Run! Run through the brush and around the other side and… Yay!

Me:        That’s one way to do it. Go on in and get your snack. We’re up against a deadline here. Well done.

Miss Sweetie:    I can do it, Lady Human. Watch me! Watch me! Run…skip…jump…and there!

Stella:    You made quite a splash, Sweetie.

Miss Sweetie:    What happened? My feet are all muddy. I am standing in water. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Me:        It’s all right, Sweetie. Not all of us are hurdlers. Go on in and get your treat. Times a’wastin. Who’s next?

Stella:    Snoopey! Snoopey’s next!

Me:        Okay, girl.

Snoopey:   If I hadn’t come out here to pee, this would not have happened.

Me:        Snoopey, I know how much you hate coming out when it’s wet. You can run on in. You don’t have to jump.

Snoopey:   I can do this. I can do this. I can run and jump…

Me:        You see! You did it! Your hind feet barely touched the water! Well done! Go on in and get your treat.

Snoopey:   And dry my feet.

Me:        That too. And now, Stella, let’s go. No time left. The new rain is upon us.

Stella:    Carry me so that my pretty little feet don’t get any wetter.

Me:        Honey, I’m sorry. I can’t pick up 50 pounds. I could edge you forward, but you are going to have to do some of the work.

Stella:    Work? You can’t be serious.

Me:        Did you feel that?

Stella:    Sky water?

Me:        Yep. Decision time.

Stella:    Oh. All right. Here I go. Run…run…splash…splash…Aww….

Me:        Good girl! Well done! You got across!

Stella:    Not so well done. My feet are wet and cold. I didn’t make a good landing.

Me:        That’s what a warm house and a soft dry bed and treats are for. Forget this. Let’s go on in.

Stella:    Will it be dry tomorrow?

Me:        According to the weather people, no.

Stella:    What good is it to live in a hot, dry country when it is cold and wet all the time?

Me:        I’ll ask you a similar question during the summer when you complain about being hot and dry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.