Bulldoggy

Ruckus or Rampage – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

Posted on April 9, 2018 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me: Well, Your Majesty. I could use your help.

Stella: Your Majesty? About time I got the respect I deserve. What can I help you with, human peasant?

Me: I beg your pardon?

Stella: Granted. I am always happy to be gracious. What is your petition?

Me: Help me when the others start to rampage.

Stella: Rampage?

Miss Sweetie: You know, Aunt Stella. When we suddenly jump up and run around like mad and climb on the furniture, which is for us anyway. I don’t know why everybody wants us to stay off of it.

Doodlebug: And we dive into the rag box and pull stuff out and chase the cat if the cat is to be found. If not, we pretend to chase the cat full speed.

Wiggles: I thought that was a ruckus.

Tiger: No, a ruckus is just a lot of noise. A rampage is the real thing. Out of control. Wild. Bulldoggy. Woo hoo!

Me: What causes a rampage? Or a ruckus?

Doodlebug: It just seems the thing to do sometimes.

Miss Sweetie: I like to rampage after my breakfast digests. More energy.

Tiger: I prefer to ruckus. Louder but less effort.

Wiggles: I just need to know. If I charge the cat potty box, is that a rampage or a ruckus?

Me: That’s a no-no.

Wiggles: Okay, so it’s a rampage then. Let’s go!

An Easter Norther Stole Our Spring – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

Posted on April 7, 2018 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Yesterday it was what the humans call Spring. Today it is what I call freaking cold. Spring ran away. I guess it is afraid of the cold wind.

Me: Yesterday the temperature was in the 80’s. Today it’s been in the 30’s. Welcome to Texas.

Miss Sweetie: Why, Lady Human, why? The sky is blank. I can’t have a sunbath without a sun.

Me: The Easter Norther was a week late this year.

Stella: Easter Norther? Is that yet another horrible human invention? Are crazy people running things?

Me: Nope. No human is in charge of the Easter Norther. Even after Spring has sprung, we usually get one last cold front right before Easter. I guess this one took the long way around.

Tiger: My toes are cold. They were warm and now they are cold. This is a mysterious mystery. Who stole our Spring? And what is Spring anyway? And do we want it back? And how do we get it back if we do? These are questions that need answers.

Wiggles: Please turn off the fans!

Me: All the fans are off.

Wiggles: Not the ones outside. They are blowing like the cold boxes in summer.

Me: That’s the North Wind.

Doodlebug: Well, Miss Easter Norther North Wind can keep her little jokes to herself from now on. Where is she anyway? I want to have a few words with her.

Me: An Easter Norther can’t have a conversation. It is a weather front. It has no mouth.

Stella: Of course, it does. It’s been spitting in my face all day long.

Beware The Angry Oak – Conversations with Stella

Posted on April 5, 2018 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Tall Man has made the oak tree angry. It is shaking its arms at us. Scary!

Me: I don’t see any anger. It seems rather calm to me.

Stella: How would you feel if someone went buzz buzz and cut off your branches?

Me: Those branches were scraping the roof. If left alone, they would have damaged the roof, maybe even caused a leak.

Stella: But when I go out, the oak tree shakes its leaves at me. It knows, Lady Human! IT KNOWS!

Me: That is the breeze. If you think about it, the oak tree shakes its leaves at you every day except in the dead of summer.

Stella: No, the oak tree is truly angry. Tall Man should have asked for permission before he used his buzz saw.

Me: I promise you that the oak is healthy and now those limbs will never break, and the roof is safe.

Stella: Who cares about a roof?

Me: Have you ever lived under a leaky one?

Stella: Yes.

Me: Okay, well, since you came here, have you ever been under a leaky roof?

Stella: No. Oh. I see. Leaky roofs aren’t so great. But what are we going to do about the angry oak? What if it starts moving closer to the door?

Me: That is not the way of trees, Stella. Trees pretty much stay put.

Stella: If you say so, I guess I have to take your word for it. Still, I am going to keep an eye on that tree. Just hand me that saw. Everybody has a right to self-defense.

Me: Let’s see. Dog with a chainsaw. Nope.

My Job Is To Stay With You – Conversations with Stella

Posted on April 4, 2018 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I sleep in Lady Human’s room, in her bed and in my special space by her bed. It is soft and comfortable and, since she stopped stinking up her room with the smelly mist machine, it has been enjoyable.

Me: I like my essential oil diffuser.

Stella: I don’t, so not important. What I like best of all is that for a few weeks now, she lets me return to the room after the morning break, and I rest, and nap and she reads stuff and answers something that humans call “email”. Humans are always making up new words for unimportant stuff.

Me: Well, at some point each day, we must exit my room and emerge into the larger world.

Stella: Why?

Me: There are things to do.

Stella: What?

Me: Stuff. Like washing dishes and clothes. Like running errands including buying dog food and treats. Important stuff.

Stella: It can wait.

Me: You would wait for food and treats? I don’t think so.

Stella: I want to stay with you. I want to lie in bed and stretch and snore. The others can wait. They are fine. And you will always have food for us. Let’s stay in your room. Let’s just live there.

Me: It won’t work for long, Stella. Things have to be done to keep things running smoothly.

Stella: Let others take care of that. Tall Man. He can do the shopping. Tiger can take care of the pack.

Me: That means you won’t be the queen anymore.

Stella: Huh?

Me: Well, if you are going to live in my room and only come out to use the bathroom, somebody else will have to take over.

Stella: But I am the Queen. No one else can be the Queen.

Me: Queens have jobs to do.

Stella: Why can’t my job be to sleep in on your softy bed all day? That seems to be my perfect job description.

Pounding Paws – Conversations with Stella

Posted on April 3, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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

Me: Mmhmm.

Stella: Lady Human! Pound. Pound. Pound.

Me: Oh, Stella. Why? I’m trying to take a nap.

Stella: No! You must pay attention to me! Pound. Pound. Pound.

Me: Please don’t pound me with your paws.

Stella: That’s what bulldog paws are for.

Me: I thought they were for walking and running and digging. And for scratching.

Stella: Wrong. Your hands are for scratching us.

Me: I was up half the night. I just want a little nap.

Stella: Napping is for bulldogs! Pound. Pound. Pound.

Me: Stella, please! When I cover my shoulders with the sheet and hide my hands, that means sleep time, not petting or scratching time. See! My hands are all tucked in.

Stella: I like your face.

Me: Thank you.

Stella: Here. Let me pound it.

The Great Human Egg Obsession – Conversations with Stella

Posted on April 2, 2018 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Something was wrong with Tall Man yesterday. I regret to say that I have not figured it out.

Me: Nothing is wrong with Tall Man.

Stella: He was sitting on the floor. Do you call that normal human behavior?

Me: Yeah, sometimes.

Stella: No, it is not. Sitting on the floor is bulldog behavior. Floors were make for us to sit on. As were big softy chairs. And couches. And human beds. And…

Me: Floors are platforms for humans, too.

Stella: Not only was he sitting on the floor, his legs were crossed like he was some kind of weird cat, though all cats are weird.

Me: Humans sit cross-legged at times.

Stella: And he was surrounded by millions of strangely shaped balls that looked a whole lot like the eggs the chickens lay. But guess what?

Me: Pray tell what?

Stella: They were not like the eggs the chickens lay. He was opening them and there was no yellow goo inside. Ask me how I know about the yellow goo in eggs?

Me: I don’t have to. I already know.

Stella: Well, there was no goo in the eggs Tall Man was opening. And he was putting stuff into the eggs. And guess what?

Me: What?

Stella: The stuff was candy. Human candy. Ask me how I know.

Me: How do you know?

Stella: Candy smells like guess what? Candy. Candy smells like candy. Why, Lady Human, why? Why was Tall Man sitting on the floor cross-legged, opening millions of fake eggs, and putting candy in them?

Me: First, he did not have millions of eggs. He had about a hundred which is still a lot.

Stella: I counted millions but go on.

Me: Those plastic eggs with candy in them were for a game that some human children play on Easter. People hide the eggs and the children search for them.

Stella: I don’t understand.

Me: Well, the fun is in the finding. They get excited to hunt the eggs, and when they find one, they have the bonus of getting the candy inside.

Stella: So, you hide candy in fake eggs and hide the fake eggs, forcing the children to search for them and this is supposed to be a fun game. Shame on you all, Lady Human. Don’t ever try to fool me like that. Unless, of course, you are hiding real chicken treats. Then you are welcome to try to fool me. My nose will win every time.

Reading the Ground – Conversations with Stella

Posted on March 29, 2018 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I am strolling around the yard with Lady Human, not doing any business if you know what I mean. We are just checking out spring. What are you staring at?

Me: You.

Stella: Yes, I do deserve your undivided attention.

Me: I like watching how you work your nose.

Stella: Haven’t you heard? Humans say that bulldogs are not a “working” breed.

Me: Looks like work to me.

Stella: I am reading the ground. I think that is how a human would put it. But not the way you read one of those silly things you call a “book” because that would just be weird. You would have to put it on the ground and stick your nose on it and sniff and sniff and leave some nose drool and a nose print on it. I can’t really imagine you doing that.

Me: So, when you read the ground, what do you learn?

Stella: Who passed by this way, what they had to eat, whether this is their favorite pee spot. Stuff like that.

Me: Yeah, you wouldn’t get much out of my books.

Stella: You mean I wouldn’t be able to tell who had handled it, or who had just eaten pizza or a hamburger or a chicken treat, or who had peed on it?

Me: I certainly hope not.

Bulldog Ballet – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

Posted on March 28, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

Fun Times – Conversations with Stella and Wiggles

Posted on March 26, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

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.

Bulldog Reveille – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

Posted on March 25, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

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.

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

Posted on March 23, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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?

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!

Ice Bath – Conversations with Stella and Miss Sweetie

Posted on March 21, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

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.

Finders Keepers – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

Posted on March 19, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

3 Reasons Why This Saturday is Crappy – Conversations with Stella

Posted on March 17, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

Best Friends Are Hard to Replace – Conversations with Stella

Posted on March 16, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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?

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.

Down the Short Hall – Conversations with Stella

Posted on March 14, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

When Humans Let Cats Rule – Conversations with Stella

Posted on March 12, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

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.

Itchy Spots We Can’t Reach – Conversations with Stella

Posted on March 10, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

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

Posted on March 9, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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.

Bedtime Can’t Wait – Conversations with Stella

Posted on March 8, 2018 by H.J. Hill

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!

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