Dogs – Page 33 – Bulldoggy

Do What the Ancient Romans Do – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 15, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella. I am an Olde English Bulldogge. I am a Queen. I am Illustrious. I am Noble. And my Lady Human is looking at me weird which means she has a question on her head.

Me: In my head, not on it.

Stella: Uh-oh. How will you get it out?

Me: I will ask it.

Stella: So questions come from the mouth part of your head.

Me: Questions form in my mind and then my brain communicates them through my mouth.

Stella: I don’t have that problem. All the parts of my head work together at the same time. It’s one big head. What question does your mouth want to ask?

Me: I’ve been noticing that you hardly ever stand up when you eat. You lie down next to your bowl and grab a mouthful every now and then.

Stella: It’s the best way. I’ve seen you do it yourself except you balance your bowl on your stomach. That’s hard for a bulldog. Round belly. No hands. Besides, it is easier to watch the Picture Box.

Me: Your reclining reminded me of the Ancient Romans. They reclined on couches when they ate.

Stella: Ancient Romans. Are they bulldogs?

Me: No, they were humans who lived a long, long time ago.

Stella: That’s not nearly so cool. Humans are boring.

Me: It was probably only the rich and the Caesars who did that.

Stella: See-sars. Like those things at the park that go up and down?

Me: No. Caesars were leaders, more like…

Stella: QUEENS!

Me: Uh-oh. Well, kings. Never mind. Forget I said anything. I’m sorry I brought it up.

Stella: I am eating like ancient Roman queens. I knew it ran in the family.

Bulldog Thinking – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 13, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Shhhh! Everybody be quiet! I am Stella, Queen of the Illustrious Olde English Bulldogges. I think Lady Human is asleep. I know what sleeping looks like because bulldogs sleep a lot. Just about any time, I can look around and see a bulldog snoozing and snoring. We are famous for it.

Me: I’m not asleep.

Stella: Shhhh! Go back to sleep, Lady Human.

Me: I can’t go back to sleep because I was not asleep.

Stella: Were you trying to fool me?

Me: No, I was thinking with my eyes closed.

Stella: Thinking about what?

Me: Stuff. Nothing. Everything.

Stella: That’s a lot. No wonder you closed your eyes. Why so much thinking?

Me: Humans overthink everything. Thinking is how we spend most of our time.

Stella: Then why aren’t things way better?

Me: Just because someone has a thought doesn’t mean it is an intelligent thought. Or useful. Or helpful. Or any good.

Stella: Is that more of that overthinking?

Me: Maybe.

Stella: Bulldogs don’t have that problem. We don’t overthink anything. We think about food. And treats which are also food. And what food tastes like. And how food feels in our stomachs. And what food smells like. And what food looks like. And when we will see food again. But we don’t overthink anything so I guess we are better off than humans.

Me: Stella, I am tired of thinking about all of it.

Stella: Then go back to sleep, Lady Human. No more thinking. Night. Night. We will do the thinking for you.

Me: Uh-oh.

Driver’s Seat for Drivers Only – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 12, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Stella, of the Olde English Bulldogges, Queen, enjoyed an illustrious lunch from my friends at The Bomb Fried Pies. Lady Human drove me to their trailer where they shared with me fried baloney, the best of all kinds of baloney, certainly better than what the humans call ‘a bunch of baloney’ which, from what I can tell, is just a lot of silly human talk and has nothing to do with meat at all.

It would have been an illustrious day had it not been for what happened when we got back to the Little Rolling Box on Wheels.

Me: I thought the whole day was fairly routine.

Stella: You don’t even remember the insult, do you?

Me: Nobody insulted you. That one gentleman pointed out how pretty you are and the Fried Pie ladies were happy to see you.

Stella: Not them, Lady Human. Your insult!

Me: Oh, great, what did I do?

Stella: It hurts my feelings to think about it. And you don’t even remember.

Me: If this goes on much longer, Stella, I am going to take a nap like the others. Wait. Is this about when you climbed into the driver’s seat before I could jump into the car?

Stella: Hmmmpph! You wouldn’t let me sit there.

Me: That was no insult. That was common sense. You weigh 51 pounds.

Stella: Are you calling me fat?

Me: No, you are perfect, but you barely fit by yourself in the passenger seat as it is. There is no way you and I both can sit in the driver’s seat.

Stella: How much do you weigh? Maybe you’re the problem.

Me: Not the issue. You are not allowed to ride in the driver’s seat. It’s not safe. It’s not comfortable. On top of that, the wind was cold and I was standing outside my own car, arguing with a bulldog who would not get out of my seat.

Stella: ‘Move over! Move over!’ That was no argument. That was just plain rude.

Me: I had asked politely the first 5 times. I finally had to sit down sideways on the edge of the driver’s seat and inch backward until you gave in.

Stella: I had to give in. You were sucking up all the space. The whole affair almost made me sorry that we went to get the fried baloney. Almost…Just you wait until I grow up and get my own car.

Me: I don’t believe that will happen.

Stella: Why not?

Me: Your insurance rates would be too high.

Stella: Oh. All right then. You have my permission to keep driving me to get fried baloney. I still say the driver’s seat is mine.

Me: You may have a point, Stella.

Bulldog Priorities – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 9, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, Illustrious and Noble and still crown-less. And might I add Stella the Cat Catcher. All I can say is OW!

Me: And you can’t say I didn’t warn you.

Stella: You didn’t tell me that cat claws hurt.

Me: Did you think that they were purely decorative? I warned you not to chase Moon the Cat. You chose to do that instead of getting petted. What was that about?

Stella: First things first. Cat chasing, then pets and rubs and scratching. Human scratching does not hurt. Why do cat claws hurt?

Me: Cat claws are functional weapons for defense and, if necessary, for catching food and establishing territorial boundaries. My fingernails, not so much. I told you…

Stella: I know. I know. Don’t chase the cat.

Me: She could have done a lot worse to you. You have a tiny blood pinprick on your nose and one on your muzzle.

Stella: Ow. It doesn’t hurt so much now. Did she mess up my beautiful face?

Me: Not at all. By tomorrow, no one will be able to tell that it happened, not even you. You understand what your mistake was, don’t you? The other bulldogs chase the cat and never have gotten swiped by her. You don’t just chase her; you insist on catching her.

Stella: I never hurt her. I never bite. I just drool on her a little.

Me: You could pull back at the last second and do a stare down the way the others do. But Noooo…not Stella the Cat Catcher.

Stella: All right. All right. I am so embarrassed. For today only, my name is Stella the Cat-Scratched. Don’t say it in front of the others. It makes my ears cramp up just thinking about it. But tomorrow Stella the Cat Catcher will be back, bigger and bolder than ever. I know what I want for Christmas, Lady Human. A big scary mask and a helmet. CHARGE!

Me: And I can get Moon the Cat a pair of cat-sized boxing gloves. That might save a lot of trouble.

‘Scuse Me – Bulldog Manners 101 – Conversation with the Pack

Posted on December 7, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Illustrious Stella, Olde English Bulldogge Queen, hereby call bulldog class to order. Bulldogs, please listen to my illustrious instructions. Let us begin.

Wiggles: Mwaaah. Nap time.

Stella: No, Wiggles. Not nap time. Class time. Wiggles? Wiggles!

Wiggles: (snore)

Stella: Wiggles! Wake up! You need this class as much as anybody! Oh, never mind!

Snoopey: Why do we need a class on manners? I use perfect manners with the humans.

Stella: Oh, really, Sis? Like when you slap Lady Human on the leg with your oh-so-heavy paw after she has told you umpteen gillion times not to.

Snoopey: Umpteen gillion. You made that number up.

Tiger: I agree with Wiggles. Nap time. Good evening.

Stella: Tiger! No!

Tiger: (snore)

Stella: The most stubborn, uncooperative, pig-headed…

Doodlebug: Don’t call yourself ugly names, Aunt Stella.

Stella: Ggguurrrhhh! That’s Queen Stella to you, youngster! The younger generation has no respect. Sit down and listen!

Miss Sweetie: Ggguurrrhhh! How was that, Aunt Stella? Is that how you do it? Did I show good manners? Do I sound like you? I look like you. I will listen to your class. Teach me. Ggguurrrhhh!

Stella: Maybe tomorrow, Sweetie. And yes, you do a good imitation of me.

Snoopey: As though anyone wants to hear that. Pack nap time! (snore)

Stella: To be continued. (sigh)

What Is That Ugly Thing on Your Head? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 4, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Lady Human, hold very still. There is something on your head and I think it is alive.

Me: Hello to you, too, Stella. There is nothing alive on my head, but thank you for caring. And staring.

Stella: No, really, Lady Human. Don’t move! The thing on your head is fuzzy and wiggling. I think it is trying to eat your head. Here. Just bend down and let…me…hit…it…with my big paw.

Me: I am not about to bend down so you can slap my head with your paw.

Stella: But if I don’t get it now, it may be too late! What about your brain? You need your brain!

Me: I am wearing an old knit cap from when I was in college many years ago. Tall Man found it today while we were cleaning out. It’s in good shape after all this time, don’t you think?

Stella: No, I think not.

Me: Aw, Stella, it was perfect timing. This is the first weekend that the weather has been cool enough to even consider wearing a knit hat. I think it looks good, sort of.

Stella: No, I think not.

Me: Are you a fashion critic now?

Stella: I am a dog. If I am staring at something on your head, that means you have something weird on your head. Enough said. I still think it’s alive. Did you look inside to make sure a creature had not taken up residence before you simply plopped it on your head?

Me: Of course, I did.

Stella: Better check again.

Me: Nope.

Stella: There is a fuzzy round knob on top. It is shaking. Lady Human! There may be a squirrel living in it. It would be just like a squirrel to sneak into a human’s hat.

Me: Nope.

Stella: Even if it is empty, there is another great reason to take it off.

Me: What?

Stella: It’s ugly.

Me: A matter of opinion.

Stella: Aren’t we supposed to love others?

Me: Yes.

Stella: THEN DON’T WEAR UGLY THINGS THAT OTHERS HAVE TO LOOK AT!

Please Don’t Paw the Driver – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 2, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella and I are out on an errand run. It’s always fun traveling with a dog…Ow! Stella, don’t do that!

Stella: Don’t do what?

Me: Don’t hit me with your paw!

Stella: I had to get your attention.

Me: I can’t give you my attention. I am driving.

Stella: You did not introduce me.

Me: I said your name.

Stella: Not good enough.

Me: Ow! Stella, quit it! Don’t touch the driver. Ever.

Stella: Why not?

Me: It is distracting and drivers should not be distracted.

Stella: Not even by those little black boxes that make funny noises?

Me: Especially not by those.

Stella: Then put yours away!

Me: Oh, all right.

Stella: Introduce me!

Me: Ow! Don’t paw me!

Stella: But I love you.

Me: And that’s why you hit me?

Stella: I didn’t hit you. I loved you with my rough, heavy paw.

Me: If you keep it up, I will have to pull over and put you in the backseat.

Stella: I will just paw at you from there. Introduce me.

Me: Stella. Queen. Old English Bulldogge.

Stella: What else?

Me: Illustrious. Noble.

Stella: Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Me: You don’t know the challenges of driving.

Stella: Well, at least I am having a good time.

Me: That’s what it’s all about, Stella.

Stop Staring At Me! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 1, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Illustrious Queen (yes, I said it again!) of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human and I are on an errand, a wonderful, wonderful errand to the feed store. Why? I’m glad you asked. We are going to pick up bulldog food. FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-FOOD! That’s a song that I just now made up.

Me: Probably not.

Stella: Yes, I did. I heard it on the car music box and they had the words all wrong. Except for the fah-lah-lah part. That was all right.

Me: Please remember to be polite in the feed store. If any other dogs are in there, they are not your business. No bulldog leash tugging.

Stella: I’ll be polite if they are polite. I am not putting up with rude.

Me: Ignoring rudeness is not putting up with it. Ignoring rudeness is putting rudeness in its place. It’s nothing and other people’s rudeness isn’t your business.

Stella: Stop staring at me!

Me: I’m not staring at you.

Stella: Not you. Those people in that car parked next to us. How rude! This is not a zoo! I am not an exhibit!

Me: They are smiling at you.

Stella: And look at that. They’re pointing at me! How would they like it if I pointed my stubby little toes at them? What? Now they are waving at me! Stop invading my space!

Me: They like you. They think you are cute.

Stella: Cute? How undignified! I am a queen!

Me: You could still wave or smile. Real queens do.

Stella: What do you mean ‘real queens’? Hmmpphh! Well, maybe one small…oh, look, they’re gone. Good. It’s about time.

“Love is not rude…” [I Corinthians 13:5 KJV]

Bulldoggy Chores Are #1 – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 29, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella: Lady Human, what are you doing?

Me: I am working on an arrangement that will make it easier for the cat to…

Stella: Oh, nothing important then. That’s what I thought. Stop doing that and start doing this.

Me: Start doing what? Stella, I am busy here.

Stella: Just with cat stuff. I need my toys washed and arranged. My water bowl needs to be cleaned. And I think my breakfast bowl this morning was not as full as usual so please check into that. Oh, and I was scratching a while ago and shed some hair behind my crate so that needs to be swept up. And Miss Sweetie drooled and snooted on the floor over there so break out that strong smelling stuff you use to wipe up messes. And…

Me: Woah, hold up there, Horsey! Just a cotton pickin’ minute! Who is in charge here?

Stella: I have been wondering about that for a long time now.

Oh My! What a Nice Gift??? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 26, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Illustrious Queen Stella of the Olde English Bulldogge Nation, am here to make a rare apology today to our Humans, Lady Human and Tall Man, for the inconsiderate gift that two of our pack, Wiggles and Miss Sweetie, presented last night.

Me: Yeah, it was unexpected and, to be perfectly honest, it was kind of gross.

Stella: You are being excessively polite, Lady Human. It was not kind of gross. It was grossly gross, the grossest of the gross, gross squared, if I understand the word ‘gross’ and my math is right.

Me: Your math is better than mine.

Stella: It was a rat. A dead rat with a ginormous long tail. And they laid it just outside the back door so that it was the first thing that could be seen like ‘oh, look what we found and we are giving this wonderful dead thing to you! Aren’t you proud and happy?’

Me: It’s no big deal, Stella, really. It’s all been cleaned up now.

Stella: And it wasn’t even a fresh dead rat.

Me: That’s all right, too.

Stella: When giving a rat, it should at least be fresh.

Me: No harm done. I am only sorry that they found it first and we didn’t.

Stella: If they wanted to give you a gift, they could have gone out on Black Friday and picked out something nice that you really wanted, like more dog toys for us or a new big bag of dog treats. But no, they scavenged around the yard and brought you a nasty, stale rat. A trespassing rat. It’s bad enough to have the squirrels, raccoons, and possums tromping around. NOW HERE THIS, ALL RATS! IF YOU WANT A PLACE FOR YOUR ETERNAL REST, DO NOT COME HERE! GO DOWN BY THE CREEK. IT IS A SHORT WALK. IT IS PEACEFUL AND NO ONE WILL SMELL YOU DOWN THERE. OR IF THEY DO, I WON’T HEAR ABOUT IT. I AM QUEEN STELLA. THAT IS ALL!

Me: Thank you, Stella.

Stella: Of course. It is still the Thanksgiving celebration, is it not? Now, back to eating.

Thanksgiving Aftermath – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 24, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Once upon a time, yesterday, I, Stella the Illustrious, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, decreed that the Humans have a HAPPY THANKSGIVING with lots of excessive eating. I am sorry to report that our humans did not carry out my orders.

Me: How did we not carry out Thanksgiving? We celebrated Thanksgiving. We gave thanks to God. We gave you all extra treats. We ate. Lots. Abundant desserts. Potatoes. Cornbread dressing.

Stella: And where was this feast?

Me: Well, at a family friend’s house.

Stella: Not here.

Me: No.

Stella: So, we bulldogs missed out. Why couldn’t we go? Was it a bulldog-free zone?

Me: Yeah, they have a dog-aggressive bully breed and there were a bunch of small kids. Space was limited.

Stella: Are you saying we are fat?

Me: Never. Y’all are bulldog stocky. Outside dogs were not invited. Sorry.

Stella: You came in with bags and bags the other day. Where is our feast?

Me: We still have lots of food and we will share with you. Judiciously.

Stella: Is ‘judiciously’ a word that means we don’t get any?

Me: No, ‘judiciously’ means that we won’t feed you too much or feed you stuff that will likely make you sick.

Stella: Okay. It’s a deal.

Me: Are you still thankful?

Stella: Yes, because even though we could not share your Thanksgiving dinner today, we will thankfully consume all the rest of your abundance in the days to come. Thanksgiving is not limited to one day.

Stella’s Thanksgiving Proclamation – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 23, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Stella, Illustrious and Noble Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, hereby declare tomorrow to be Happy Thanksgiving Day, the Great Feast Day of the Humans Who Call Themselves Americans. Let the excessive eating begin.

Me: Thank you, Stella…

Stella: You see! My decree is already having an effect.

Me: Actually, the official Thanksgiving Day Proclamation goes back over a century and a half, so you are a little late.

Stella: A century and a half. Is that like yesterday afternoon?

Me: Not by a long sight. A century is a hundred years. To put that in perspective, you are 3 years old.

Stella: How can that be? I have been me forever.

Me: Time is a strange thing. Tell me, for what are you giving thanks?

Stella: I haven’t thought about it.

Me: Just off the top of your head.

Stella: I haven’t got anything on the top of my head. Not even a crown for which I am still waiting patiently – hint, hint. Nothing is on the top of my head…Except hair.. And my ears. All right. I am thankful to the Great Creator for my hair and for my ears.

Me: That’s not exactly what I meant.

Stella: Off the top of my head, I am thankful for my head. I am thankful that it is a bulldog head. Any other head would look weird on my body. And I am grateful to the Great Creator that the food keeps coming and I know it is from Him because humans are so forgetful. If He did not remind them, they would neglect to buy it.

Me: That makes me grateful to the Great Creator, too, for His reminders.

Stella: And I am grateful for Thanksgiving Day because it is a day of food and there are few things in the world that bulldogs like better than food.

Me: Happy Thanksgiving, Stella.

Stella: Happy Thanksgiving, Lady Human. Now where is my feast?

The Humans Are Hogging The Food – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 20, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella. Yes, I am Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, but I am also their watchdog. I am here to report that humans are food hogs.

Me: I beg your pardon.

Stella: As indeed you should.

Me: What food are we humans hogging?

Stella: All of it except the little dabs that you put in our bowls.

Me: Again, I beg your pardon…

Stella: Be patient. I am still considering it.

Me: You each receive the same amount, the recommended amount so you are neither too fat nor too lean. So there.

Stella: Why is it that humans eat all day long and well into the night when we only get fed once a day? You have breakfast AND lunch AND supper AND a whole string of treats AND special drinks in addition to water. Lady Human, I protest. We bulldogs are deprived.

Me: You don’t look deprived.

Stella: Are you calling us ‘fat’?

Me: No, I am calling you healthy and well-fed.

Stella: And how about you?

Me: I… maybe should cut back on a few things.

Stella: Cut back means only 6 meals a day and 3 treats?

Me: All right. Maybe more than a few. I don’t eat 6 meals a day.

Stella: You haven’t been keeping count. We can help. You can share your hoarded food with us. We will be happy to gobble it up to help you stay healthy the way you help us to stay healthy – by depriving us of 6 meals a day.

Me: I still think you’re wrong about the 6 meals a day.

Stella: I have 4 paws. Each paw has 4 toes. This paw plus these 2 toes makes 6. If you start eating more than 16 meals per day, I must start using my tail, my two ears, and my two bulldog upside down vampire fangs. Please don’t make me count higher than 21. I will run out of parts.

What Is Black Friday and Will There Be Treats? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 17, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen…YES, I SAID ‘QUEEN’ AND I MEANT IT… of the Olde English Bulldogges. Did I mention that I am Illustrious and Noble and Right Honorable? And I still do not have a crown. When will you remedy that, Lady Human?

Me: I’m not sure. Maybe on Black Friday.

Stella: What is Black Friday?

Me: A big shopping day for humans the day after Thanksgiving.

Stella: And when will that be?

Me: Next Friday, a week from tomorrow.

Stella: Not soon enough! I have been patient for months. Wait! Why is it called ‘Black Friday’? Is it because all the crowns sold on that day will be black? I WANT A GOLD CROWN WITH JEWELS! You will have to wait for Gold Friday if that is the case.

Me: No, it is called ‘Black Friday’ because that is the day when many businesses see their first profit for the year. Profits used to be recorded in black ink and losses were recorded in red ink.

Stella: Humans are weird.

Me: I admit it. Sometimes we are.

Stella: So, what do humans do on Black Friday? Can bulldogs do it, too?

Me: It’s probably not a good day for bulldogs to be shopping with humans. The crowds are thick and people are rushing around trying to get good sales and specials that only last for a few hours. Humans become tense about those things.

Stella: Are there treats?

Me: Some, here and there. I used to go shopping with my girls on Black Friday and we would always stop to get some coffee or pastry or breakfast.

Stella: Me! ME! ME! ME! Coffee! Pastry! Breakfast!

Me: Yeah, but then one time, I knelt to tie my youngest child’s shoe and I got a look at what she was seeing. While from my point of view, everything was fun and exciting and colorful and lit up, all she was seeing was…

Stella: A bulldog’s view. Lots of human feet and knees and giants walking past with their big shopping bags swinging past her head.

Me: Yes, exactly. From then on, I stayed away from big crowds and rushing people and we went places during the holidays that were quieter and calmer and more on her level. Once she was older, we could enjoy the holiday rush together.

Stella: I will never be as tall as a human. I will never be tall enough for Black Friday.

Me: Don’t feel down, Stella. There are other things that you can enjoy. How about this? On Black Friday, you and I can go to the feed store where I get your treats. Dogs are welcome and there won’t be a crowd.

Stella: Really? Do they have bulldog toys? Will children be there? How about that old man in the fluffy red suit?

Me: I can’t promise all that.

Stella: Oh, well then. Never mind. I will just stay home and take a nap.

Who Your Advisers Are Says a Lot about You – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 16, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Stella, Illustrious Queen of the Illustrious Olde English Bulldogges, hereby announce my appointments for my personal cabinet.

Me: Why?

Stella: The humans are doing it. The humans are not better than I am. If they get to have advisers, so do I.

Me: What if these advisers recommend something you disapprove?

Stella: Then they’re fired! Boom! There! I said it! You heard me!

Me: Okay. Who are you appointing?

Stella: First of all, Snoopey will be Secretary of Defense and Chief of Bulldog Security.

Me: Why Snoopey?

Stella: She is First Barker. Whenever there is a strange noise or unknown threat, whether it exists or not, she is on her feet, barking her head off. To be honest, Snoopey is our pack leader. That is hard for me to admit, but if the pack needs to be defended, Snoopey is the one who will do the job. Not me.

Me: But you are the Queen. I have seen you hold your own against all the bulldogs.

Stella: I can make my point clear. I am a peacemaker. But Snoopey cares for all the bulldogs, even the ones who challenge her. She would sacrifice herself to save others.

Me: Very well. That sounds reasonable. Who’s next?

Stella: Tiger will be Assistant Secretary of Defense.

Me: Why?

Stella: When she was attacked by that dog in her old place, she learned what it meant to fight, to defend, and to lose. She almost died.

Me: I know. We experienced her battle to recover but not her first battle.

Stella: She told me about it. She said that she learned defense is as important as offense. She wishes that she had known that from the beginning.

Me: Still she has picked fights with Snoopey.

Stella: It is hard for a warrior to sit on the sidelines.

Me: I understand. Who is next?

Stella: Wiggles. Ah, poor Wiggles. Sweetest dog ever.

Me: I know that you don’t like it when we say that. But you must admit she is sweet.

Stella: Well, she is a good dancer. I can appoint her Secretary of the Arts.

Me: She can dance and make everybody feel more relaxed, calmer.

Stella: I can also appoint her Secretary of Eggs. The hens push eggs toward her when she paws at them.

Me: Yes, she does have a way with the chickens.

Stella: Finding the right dog for the right job. I do not envy the humans.

Me: That leaves Doodlebug and Miss Sweetie.

Stella: Those sillies! I have the perfect jobs for them. They can be president and vice president. I don’t even know what those jobs are so they can’t be too important.

Me: Which one will be president?

Stella: Which one weighs more?

No Accounting for Human Taste – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 14, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Once again, I am Stella, Queen Illustrious of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me: You aren’t “once again” Stella. You are always Stella. It’s not like you stopped being Stella and then became Stella again.

Stella: Why are you being so picky?

Me: I am not being picky.

Stella: Then you are being snappy. Why?

Me: I am not being snappy.

Stella: I am a bulldog. I know picky and snappy when I hear it. Do you need a nap? When I am picky and snappy, it is usually because I have missed one of my 14 daily naps.

Me: I don’t need a nap.

Stella: Did you eat breakfast? When I am picky and snappy, it is usually because I have skipped breakfast.

Me: I did not skip breakfast.

Stella: How about lunch? Did you miss that? When I am picky and snappy, it is usually because I have skipped lunch.

Me: I did not miss lunch! Leave me alone!

Stella: Now that was just plain rude. Are your feet itchy? When I am picky and snappy and rude, it is usually because my feet are itchy. Here! Let me lick them the way I lick mine. It helps.

Me: No, my feet are not itchy. Please don’t lick them!

Stella: Picky, snappy, and rude, but not sleepy or hungry or itchy. I give up.

Me: I’m sorry, Stella. I have misplaced something and it has me frustrated.

Stella: Did you misplace a bulldog?

Me: No, nothing so important as that.

Stella: Good, because I just counted and we are all here and if you had misplaced a bulldog, that would mean you had a secret bulldog we did not know about.

Me: In fact, what I have misplaced is of no real importance at all and yet I am all wound up about it. I keep looking in all the places it could be, checking and rechecking.

Stella: What is it? The other bulldogs and I can search for it, especially if it smells bad.

Me: It doesn’t and it’s not important.

Stella: We want to help. What is it?

Me: Just a paper bookmark.

Stella: That’s easy. What does it look like?

Me: It has some colorful drawings on it. It’s no big deal. I’ll come across it eventually.

Stella: Drawings of what?

Me: Just forget it.

Stella: Drawings of what? No… not SQUIRRELS!

Me: No, not squirrels.

Stella: Whew!

Me: Cats.

Stella: Mwaaah! What? Eeewww! Better off lost! Why cats? Who wants pictures of cats? I can’t believe it. Why not dogs?

Me: They didn’t have any of dogs. They were sold out.

Stella: Of course, they were. Everyone wants dogs. Well, offer of help is hereby withdrawn. As for your cat bookmark, I hope you don’t find it.

Me: Now who’s being rude.

Stella: All I can say is that, if I find it first, I will let you know what colorful paper cats taste like! DOGS FOREVER! No, Lady Human, don’t look sad. I love you despite your bad taste. I won’t chew up your ugly cat bookmark. My bulldog slobber all over it will be enough.

What Is That Terrible Stink? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 11, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, Queen Illustrious and Noble of the Olde English Bulldogges. Allow me to repeat that – QUEEN! As queen, I should not have anything assault my nose. Ever.

Me: What is the problem?

Stella: There is a terrible stink.

Me: Well, you know…bulldogs. Hellooo!

Stella: I already said hello to everyone. And what does stink have to do with bulldogs?

Me: Is that a real question, Stella?

Stella: This stink hit me in the face when I came into your room.

Me: I don’t smell anything peculiar.

Stella: Let me be brutally honest. The stink is coming from you, Lady Human.

Me: What? I showered. I put on clean clothes.

Stella: It is your skin.

Me: I rubbed on some essential oils. That’s all. No perfume.

Stella: 220 million dog nose receptors can’t be wrong.

Me: 220 million, huh. That’s a lot.

Stella: I don’t know what 220 million means, but I know it is more than four. Four is the number of one paw’s worth of toes. How powerful are human noses?

Me: Hmmm…5 million.

Stella: Don’t be embarrassed about your weak nose, Lady Human. Be embarrassed about stinking so badly.

Me: Essential oils don’t stink. They may be overpowering to you, but not to humans.

Stella: Please warn me before you use them again.

Me: I will if you will forewarn me about bulldog gas leaks.

Stella: I can make no promises. Our gas leaks surprise even me most of the time.

Stay Away from Political Parties! There is No Popcorn! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 10, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella: My Lady Human is exhausted. She has not slept as long or as well as she should have these past few days. Thus, everything she has done for us, the Olde English Bulldogges of Bulldoggy Nation, has been done…well, partially, slowly, and not very well.

Me: Stella, are you complaining about me?

Stella: Just giving the facts, only the facts. You stayed up too late the other night with your Political Party nonsense and now everyone is suffering for it. If it was no fun, why did you keep politicaling. It does not sound like a party to me.

Me: Politicaling? I don’t think that’s a word.

Stella: It is now. I say so.

Me: And a political party is not like a fun party.

Stella: Then why attend?

Me: I didn’t. It kind of foisted itself on me.

Stella: Then you tell Mr. Foisted to cut it out. You have bulldogs depending on you and he can keep his Political Party invitations to himself and he had better not come around here anymore or he may find out how bulldogs got their reputation. Nobody messes with my Lady Human!

Me: Thank you, Stella.

Stella: That’s right. Our breakfast schedule is too important to be messed up by political partying. Now go to bed and get some sleep and no more politicaling…ever.

Me: If you say so.

Stella: If you humans had me as queen, you wouldn’t have to put up with elections and parties would not be a problem. Think about it.

Midnight Hour – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 8, 2016November 8, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella: Lady Human, what are you doing up so late? Shhh! All the bulldogs are asleep.

Me: You are a bulldog and you aren’t.

Stella: I am a queen. Queens stay up to watch over their subjects.

Me: It’s true. I have found you sitting up long after the others are snoring.

Stella: You don’t stay up this late.

Me: No, but I wasn’t sleeping well and I had a pain in my foot. I got up to take some aspirin.

Stella: Your foot? The one that Tiger stomped on?

Me: I don’t remember…

Stella: The foot that Wiggles stomped on?

Me: Maybe…My feet get bulldog stomped a lot.

Stella: The foot that Snoopey stomped on?

Me: Probably. I only have two and Snoopey stomps a lot.

Stella: The foot that I stomped on? I’m sorry about that. It’s just that your human feet are so big. They stick out in front of me and it is hard to avoid them when I am hustling. Wait! Is that Human Election Nonsense over?

Me: The voting is over. I don’t know if it is ever truly over.

Stella: Are the loud humans quiet now?

Me: Loud humans never quiet down completely.

Stella: True. Humans don’t seem to know how to be quiet. They talk and talk and talk and say very little, mostly blah, blah, blah.

Me: The Great Creator made our mouths and gave us tongues for speech. I think we don’t use them wisely as He intended.

Stella: You should not stay awake and worry about the silly humans even if you are one yourself.

Me: Silly or human?

Stella: Both. There is no real difference. You don’t see the bulldogs sitting up all night.

Me: No, they are sleeping soundly. It’s wonderful to watch dogs at peace.

Stella: We like it when our humans sleep in peace. Hey, you can sleep with all of us. I will watch over you, too.

Me: Thank you for the offer, Stella. I believe I can go to bed and rest now. You’ve reminded me that we all have Someone watching over us. Good night.

Stella: Good night, Lady Human. Oh, and just because you stayed up late doesn’t mean that our breakfast can be one minute late in the morning. No slacking off.

Stella’s Bedtime Story – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 7, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Hello, humans! I am Queen Stella. Turn down the lights. Silence all loud noises. This bedtime story is for you. You need calming down. You have all been tense for months and Lady Human says that tomorrow is the Official Day of Election Nonsense. Since humans are full of nonsense most of the time, I don’t understand why tomorrow is more nonsensical than other human days, but I will take her word for it. After all, she is human and should know.

Me: May I close my eyes and listen?

Stella: As you wish. Now we begin.

Once upon a time this time yesterday, a sweet, smart bulldog named Stella was baking a meat pie.

Me: You aren’t going to change the main character’s name?

Stella: Listeners must be silent.

Me: Sorry.

Stella: Where was I? Oh, yes. Sweet, smart Stella was baking a wonderful, spicy meat pie. All the bulldogs sniffed the air to catch the aroma. Everyone sat still, quiet and nodding sleepily. She pulled the pie from the oven and set it on the floor where the bulldogs could reach it. As it cooled, the bulldogs dreamed of the magic pie and how good it would taste.

Me: Magic pie?

Stella: It is food, isn’t it? Now close your eyes and be quiet and calm down. It was peaceful, so peaceful when SUDDENLY, IN THROUGH THE WINDOW BURST A FLYING SQUIRREL!

Me: What?

Stella: The squirrel whirled around the kitchen, clawing on each pass at the bulldogs and the precious meat pie. Sweet Stella stood up to defend her kin, transforming into FLYING STELLA, SQUIRREL FIGHTER. She reached into the pie and pulled out a piece of carrot. She threw it out the window in front of the food-stealing squirrel and slammed the window shut behind him. No squirrel was going to get away with her pie!

Me: This is a bedtime story to calm people down?

Stella: Think of defeating a flying squirrel at his own game. That always calms me down. Doesn’t it you?

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