
‘Tromping over and over on the same ground will get your feet muddy.”
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

‘Tromping over and over on the same ground will get your feet muddy.”
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: Hey, y’all, I need my bed back.

Sweetie: You’ve got a whole side all to yourself.
Doodlebug: Yeah, we don’t encroach.
Sweetie: Of course, we could share with someone else. MoonCat?

MoonCat: My bed only has one side. MINE!
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Ahhh. Cozy.
Doodlebug: I could stay here in bed all day.
Me: You just about have. I’ve been up for hours. I’d like to have my bed back.
Sweerie: Your bed?
Doodlebug: That’s rather selfish.

MoonCat: Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we invite bulldogs into our sleeping arrangements.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Here we are with all our stuff, ready for the sleepover. It’s a party!
Me: Are we having a sleepover?
Sweetie: Yup, in your room. Boy, you have a lot of cool stuff in here to chew on, Lady Human.
Me: Nope, that is not what a sleepover entails.
Doodlebug: You should have made that clear in your invitation.
Sweetie: That’s okay. We brought enough of our own stuff for chewing.

MoonCat: I’ll pass up on this event and keep my long, beautiful tail out of the reach of bulldog party goers.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Hello, Lady Human!
Me: What are y’all doing on my bed?
Doodlebug: Is this your bed?
Sweetie: We’re just visiting.
Me: You’ve never wanted to be up there before.
Sweetie: We wanted to see what the world looks like from way up here. It’s really comfy. I think we will stay. Hey, MoonCat, want to share?

MoonCat: I prefer my single bed to stay bulldog-free, thank you.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Okay. I’ve been patient long enough. Where is it?
Me: Where’s what?
Sweetie: I saw you take that delivery at the door, ma’am. Then you squirreled the whole thing away. Where’s mine?
Doodlebug: And don’t forget me.
Me: That batch only had human supplies in it.

MoonCat: Did I just now hear the sound of a can opener and catch a whiff of tuna on the air?
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Lady Human, that boy chicken is about to get my goat.
Me: The rooster. Boy chickens are called roosters. I named him Roo-roo.
Sweetie: If he keeps pecking at me, you can name him Pancake as in “flat as a”!
Doodlebug: A rooster pancake. Hmmm.

MoonCat: Hmmm. Pancake the Rooster or a rooster pancake. Nope, not on my agenda.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Lady Human, we noticed that you have your hands full.
Doodlebug: We are here to offer our services.
Me: I don’t know exactly how you can help. I have to move all these leftovers into the freezer…oh, I see.
Sweetie: I am trained and ready for just such a job.

MoonCat: I’ll stay right here, quietly waiting until you get to my favorites when I will happily pitch in to help.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Hey, Doodle, you took my blanket! My favorite one! The one that’s just for me!
Doodlebug: No, I did not! The blankets are for everybody! Stop being so selfish!
Sweetie: You did! You! You! You!
Doodlebug: No, you’re wrong! You! You! You!
Me: Everybody put your paws down!

MoonCat: This sort of behavior always happens when the humans have turkey for dinner. It must be contagious. Happy Day after Thanksgiving.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: Happy Thanksgiving, y’all. Say something you thank the Great Creator for.

Sweetie: I don’t know.
Me: Well, think about it.

Baby and Bud: Tweet. Thanks for warm.
Doodlebug: Thanks for tons and tons of food.
Me: Sounds about right. Sweetie?
Sweetie: Thanks that I am a bulldog and not something else like a poodle…
Me: I like poodles. I’ve known some.
Sweetie: …or a human.
Me: Yeah. I’ve known some of them, too.

MoonCat: Don’t feel badly, Lady Human. I’m thankful for humans. They know how to put tuna in a can.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges. This is a special day.
Me: Yes. It is. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day.

Sweetie: Doodlebug means the house air smells good today. That’s not always true.
Me: How well I know.
Sweetie: Hey, humans have their stinky moments, too, Lady Human.
Me: How well I know.
Sweetie: But today is a special smell good day. Can’t every day smell this good?

MoonCat: We would have to have some major cooperation from…well, we all know.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Lady Human, those long sticks look yucky. Throw them away.
Me: First off, since when does a bulldog think anything looks yucky. Secondly, these carrots can be made into a soup or baked in a casserole, so no, I will not waste them.
Doodlebug: But they’re all limp and saggy and smooshy and…yellowy brown.
Me: But they’re not bad. Waste not, want not.

MoonCat: I definitely “want not”.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: How come humans think they are all that AND a bag of bar-b-que potato chips?
Doodlebug: Yeah, Lady Human, because, from where I sit, y’all are two legs shy of a full load.

MoonCat: Opinion. Opinionated. Opinionation. The very definition of “Bulldog”. In my humble opinion.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: Those cushions go over there on my bed, Lady Human.
Me: I beg your pardon?
Sweetie: I grant it freely. Just put them there.
Me: Why?
Sweetie: Because I said so.
Me: Not a good enough reason for a bulldog to offer to a human.
Doodlebug: Hey, what if I want them on my bed because I said so?
Sweetie: I said so first.

MoonCat: How about this? I have the last word. Because I said so.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges. Oooo, smell that, Lady Human.
Me: Smell what? I don’t smell anything.

Sweetie: You need a bigger nose.
Me: My nose is plenty big.
Sweetie: Can you smell the chicken poop outside right now?
Me: Thankfully, no.
Doodlebug: A big nose like ours would solve that problem.

MoonCat: That’s a problem? I’ll stick with my little nose, thank you.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human, dogs are growling in the sky. Let us at ’em!

Sweetie: How dare they interrupt our sleep with their noise!
Me: That’s just thunder. No dogs are making that noise.
Doodlebug: And lights are flashing. The storm dogs are wearing light-up collars so they don’t get lost in the sky.
Me: Nope, that’s lightning.
Sweetie: It sounds like a pack of bulldogs having a party. Maybe they’ll jump down here and join us.

MoonCat: Oh, joy. Oh, bliss. Imagine! Bulldogs raining from the sky.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: What have I told y’all? Now, for the umpteenth time, keep your noses out of the kitchen trash.

Sweetie: Umpteenth. Is that a special time of day?
Doodlebug: I think it’s one of those made-up words that only humans like.

MoonCat: Umpteenth sounds sort of iffy. Avoid it umpteen times.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Sweetie: When will you take us shopping with you?
Me: When pigs fly.
Sweetie: Oh, good. When will that be?
Me: Never.
Doodlebug: Can’t we just check with some pigs?
Me: Pigs can’t fly. They aren’t made that way. “When pigs fly” means not gonna happen.
Sweetie: How about in one of those airplane machines?

MoonCat: When bulldogs fly.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: Unbeknownst to us, a possum was snooping around the chicken house last night.

Sweetie; Hold on there a minute, Lady Human. Un…be…knownst? You just made that up.
Me: No, it’s actually an old word that doesn’t get used much anymore.
Doodlebug: I wonder why.
Sweetie: It’s hard enough to understand humans without you popping in new words that you pulled off the top of your head.

MoonCat: You mean words that are unbeknownst to you.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.

I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Sweetie: I have made up a poem.
Me: “Made up” seems to be your new favorite phrase.
Doodlebug: Remind me. What is a poem?
Sweetie: Words humans string together that sound the same. Like this: Run, run, run. Fun, fun, fun. Bun, bun, bun. Blah, blah, blah.
Doodlebug: It doesn’t make sense.
Sweetie: What does sense have to do with it?

MoonCat: Ah, the bulldog’s motto for life.
©️ 2025. H.J. Hill. All Rights Reserved.