Don’t Mad-Dog Me! Keep Your Eyes to Yourself

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Dogs are visual creatures and so bulldogs are visual creatures times 10. (That ten-fold estimate is just my best guess. It could run higher.)

Bulldogs are lots of things including funny, roly-poly, barrel-shaped, broad-shouldered, and good natured. Oh, and one more thing.

They are intense.

I have seen Stella go from a relaxed state with her tongue lolling out of her mouth to an alert, perked-eared, quivering-lipped, wound-up spring of a dog in one second because the cat walked across the path of her eyes.

I have witnessed a resting Snoopey, completely stretched out, jump to her feet because she caught Tiger looking in her direction and they locked eyes. A threatening stare between humans is called “mad-dogging”. If you ever see it in person between dogs, you’ll agree it’s aptly named.

Wiggles, on the other hand, avoids lots of bulldog intensity by averting her eyes. She’ll glance into my face, make eye contact, and then look away. She does it with the other dogs, too. Her message: Hey, I just want to enjoy myself. I don’t want to make you mad. I don’t want to start a fight. I won’t trespass into your eyeball territory.

Make no mistake. Wiggles is no pushover when the push does occasionally come to the shove. But she senses that she shouldn’t be mad-dogging anybody. She focuses her eyes on something more interesting, more peaceable.  Sadly for me (who has to clean it up), once in a while, that neutral object is trash.

So the good ole bulldogs have presented me with another example of what not to do.

Don’t keep staring at the wrong things. Stop focusing on what stirs you up, makes you angry, or gets you in a tizzy. (Boy, that just cut way back on my news viewing.) And stop minding everybody else’s business. Mind your own.

“Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee.” Proverbs 4:25 KJV

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

VOTE FOR ME! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Me:        With me once again is Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge.

Stella:   Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

Me:        So called.

Stella:   Jealous.

Me:        You had a question about what the humans have been doing this week.

Stella:   Why have the humans been talking so much in the yards this week? You and Tall Man and the neighbors?

Me:        You noticed that?

Stella:   Next Door Man’s dogs stayed all stirred up, barking the only way they ever do – loud and obnoxious. I think that they are not very smart. They repeat themselves a lot. I peeked through the fence while I was in the yard. You humans were talking and talking and did not seem very happy.

Me:        We were talking about politics. A big vote is coming up next fall.

Stella:   Mmmmm. When the air is cooler. Because you can’t vote when the weather is hot. That makes good sense. Hot humans don’t know what they are doing.

Me:        I don’t think the heat has much to do with that.

Stella:   I remember what you said about voting. I still don’t like it. I think voting is a dumb idea that humans made up so they can meet in yards and talk too much and too loud, like Next Door Man’s dogs do. Then the humans get hot and do other dumb things like cooking delicious meat outside and dropping it on the ground and throwing it away instead of giving it to me.

Me:        That was an accident. Tall Man felt badly about that, but the meat was too dirty to give to you or the others.

Stella:   No dropped meat is ever too dirty. That’s what tongues are for.

Me:        Yuck.

Stella:   So the humans don’t like voting either.

Me:        We don’t like some of the choices.

Stella:   So vote for yourself.

Me:        It takes more than one vote normally.

Stella:   I am the Queen. I can change that.

Me:        Nope. It’s a human thing. And I haven’t noticed you changing any bulldog things around here, Your Highness.

Stella:   Finally! Some respect! Bulldogs! Vote for me and you will see things change.

Me:        Like what?

Stella:   Long naps every afternoon.

Me:        You all already do that.

Stella:   Double food portions.

Me:        So you can get fat.

Stella:   No more nail trimming for us.

Me:        Bad plan in the long term.

Stella:   VOTE FOR ME! LIFE WILL BE GREAT!

Me:        That’s what they all say.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Stella’s Blog – Quick! Hide the Food!

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, here to pass along a warning to all humans who need to eat food.

(Transcriptionist: That would be every human, just as it would be every dog.)

Once again, my transcriptionist has interrupted my blog. How would one of your human Big Barkers on television feel about that, if you interrupted them as much as you interrupt me?

(Transcriptionist: Maybe some Big Barkers on television should be interrupted. It might help them think things through before they bark.)

I will be happy to do that for them sometime, but right now I want to blog. As I was saying before I was interrupted, food is important to all of us and you must warned against leaving your food unguarded. Tiger, Wiggles, and Snoopey will steal it if given half a chance.

(Transcriptionist: Now I must interrupt. The only place that Tiger, Wiggles, or Snoopey would even have the opportunity to steal food is in our house or yard. No one else is in danger of losing anything to them.)

What if they go walking with you or Tall Man? What if a visitor comes in with a big bread and meat chunk in his hand?

(Transcriptionist: A sandwich?)

Is that the thing with delicious meat hiding between two bread pieces that sometimes has grass and slimy but mouth-watering yellow and red goop on the meat and the humans carry it in their hands and shove it into their mouths without sharing?

(Transcriptionist: Not grass – lettuce. Not yellow and red goop – mustard and ketchup. Yes, that is a sandwich and we do not have to share. Some of that stuff may not even be good for a dog.)

I shall be the judge of that.

(Transcriptionist: Nope.)

My warning stands. If you see Tiger, Wiggles, or Snoopey anywhere near your food, humans, HIDE IT FROM THEM IMMEDIATELY! They will snatch it whether you are looking or not. They will not ask permission. Suddenly, it will just be gone and all you will see is lip-licking. Then it will be too late, and you will be sorry that your delicious food ended up in their mouths. They may not say “thank you” either. That is just how rude they are.

 (Transcriptionist: Have you ever snatched human food?

Mwahhh.  I respect human plates. But remember the time that you had your plate on your lap and Snoopey ran and jumped on you and knocked it off and it went all over the floor! That was so funny… rude but funny… okay, just rude. The next time that happens, you can let me clean it up for you. It would be my pleasure.

 Farewell, humans. Thank you for your kind attention to this public service announcement.

 Signed, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Watch Where You Step

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Pooper scoopers are one of the truly great inventions of the past century. They are a real necessity if you have more than one bulldog. Or even if you have only one bulldog. With one-handed operation, the pooper scooper “bites” the poop from off the ground. The same hand can open it and dispose of the poop in the trash receptacle of your choice without direct contact. Done and done!

Of course, I have seen a bulldog accomplish the same thing, only the poop doesn’t get deposited in a trash can. Wiggles is particularly adept at poop disposal. I won’t go into details. Suffice it to say that every once in a while she darts away and refuses all orders to return until, well, she returns “empty-handed”, so to speak. Also good at trash diving, Wiggles is our waste disposal specialist.

Poop scooping aside, we still have to watch our step in the yard. Dogs can be selective about their bathroom spots and go out of their way to stay out of our way. A couple of ours prize convenience. They step out the door, walk a few feet, sniff the air, and say,”Yep! Here!”

I have learned to watch my step, even away from the bulldogs. If I’m not paying attention, it’s way too easy to “step” into something that is nasty and smells bad. And that odor follows you around until it gets washed off, sometimes with a power hose.

And if you aren’t careful, you can smear that mess onto other people and things. I remember when I was very young, we were leaving my grandparent’s house. I was all dressed up and was wearing a beloved red coat. Once in the car, we started noticing an odor and pretty quickly, my parents discovered that I had stepped in dog poop. It was on my lovely, little patent leather shoes and ON MY RED COAT!

Everything had to be thoroughly cleaned. I never looked at my red coat quite the same way again. And I had no idea that I had stepped in something stinky until we got closed up with it.

Pooper scoopers can’t handle a lot of the filthy stuff that gets left in our paths. For that stuff, we have to watch where we step.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

Keep On Tugging

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Our bulldogs love sticks. They are connoisseurs, taking great pains to choose just the right one for their purpose. For example, one stick may be great for relaxed chewing while another may be suited to a game of “keep away”. With our dogs, sticks are not commonly for fetching. Oh, you can throw it and they will run for it, maybe even pick it up, but the chances of the stick ever coming back to you aren’t good.

There is another stick-centered game that they enjoy -Tug of War. One bulldog grabs the end of a carefully chosen stick of the right thickness and length; another latches onto the opposite end. May the best tugger win.

Of course, Tug of War doesn’t have to be limited to sticks. I retrieved a knotted rope toy from the yard only to notice that it became unusually heavy as I walked back toward the house. I looked down to find a 50-pound bulldog attached to the loose end, pulling away. Okay. I’m up for a good game of Tug of War every now and then. What a great workout for my arm and shoulder.

I kept walking, eyes straight ahead, until I noticed that the rope suddenly doubled its weight. I looked down to find two 50-pound bulldogs gripping the end of the rope with their bulldoggy mouths. Could I pull this off?

It wasn’t like trying to lift or pull dead weight. Their eight legs fought me and shifted from side to side to pry the rope from my hand. All I could do was add my other hand and fight for every inch.

I was engaged in a Tug of War with one of the most tenacious breeds of animal ever to grace the planet, a dog bred for one purpose – to hold on. How could I give up and quit? The honor of the human race was at stake.

I had limited advantages. I weighed more than the bulldogs combined and, although they had eight legs to my two, my legs were a lot longer and gave me greater leverage. So the battle was on. The goal line was the backdoor.

I am proud to say that neither side ever gave up. I inched my way to the backdoor where I declared victory. The bulldogs couldn’t have cared less. They got to bulldog a rope across half the yard. Always a good day.

So I learned something from two bulldogs. The weight may increase; the opposition may grow; the battle may be longer than you expected. Hold on and keep tugging.

“…be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 15:58 KJV)

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Smack Talk – Cat Style

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Moon, our cat, is part Siamese with a beautiful gray coat and serene blue eyes. When she talks, her comments consist primarily of soft meows, sometimes in a long, repetitive string and sometimes just a quick, clipped sound that lets you know she could say something. She just doesn’t want to. Unlike the vocal majority, aka the bulldogs, she walks a quiet path.

So when she started scrunching up her face and meowing in an irritated tone at Snoopey, I was bewildered. Why this sudden change in behavior? She only does it when Snoopey barks or whines at me. Snoopey never chases the cat. Perhaps as pack leader of the bulldogs, she considers cat chasing undignified. But Snoopey does join in excited barking at the cat when Moon  is running around the room.

Thus far, Moon has reserved this ugly talk just for Snoopey. Even though Stella is her greatest nemesis, she hasn’t thrown a single meow in her direction (at least not since the “meow to the face” event she pulled on each of the bulldogs while they were napping).

 

Watching the cat and listening to her, her attitude toward Snoopey seems to be “Oh, so you think you’re so tough! Look at my teeth. Sharp. And I am way quicker than any of you loud, rotund dogs. For all your stomping and trundling around, you’re not all that great! And stop yelling at the Lady. She’s not your servant! She’s my servant! So don’t go telling her what to do!

 I know Moon is having a “conversation” with Snoopey about something, and from the look on Moon’s face, it is a sore subject.

I don’t find smack talk all the helpful. We all need to vent every now and then. Vents allow the dangerous build up of pressure to escape without damage. If we’re venting in someone’s direction though, we have to be sure that while we are not letting ourselves explode with pent up feelings, we don’t direct a harmful column of words into someone else’s face.

“Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.” (Ephesians 4:29 KJV)

Snoopey appears to be ignoring Moon’s cat diatribes. Moon showed her teeth again, wrinkled up her face and meowed. “Bulldogs, schmulldogs! You all look like a bunch of upside down vampires to me !”

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Stella’s Blog – Things that Make Me Mad

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello. I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and I have a few complaints.

(Transcriptionist: As usual.)

Hey, this is my blog. Stick your opinions in your own. This brings me to the first thing that makes me mad – the opinions of others unless they agree with mine. The humans talk about voting all the time. I’m not sure what voting is, but it sounds like someone else’s opinion and, therefore, another thing that would make me mad.

From what the humans say, I perceive that voting means you can choose a thing or a person and someone else can choose differently, and if enough people choose differently from you, YOU LOSE!

I don’t like that. So yes, voting is on my list of things that make me mad. I am the queen; I get to choose.

No voting allowed!

But if we did allow voting in the house, we bulldogs would outnumber the cat. Hmmm. And we could vote her out. That is unless Wiggles voted with the cat just to be “nice”. And then there is Tiger. I have suspected for a long time that Tiger has a secret peace treaty with the cat. Oh, she barks at the cat and stirs the rest of us up, but never have I seen Tiger actually chase the cat. Hmmm.

Then the other day, I watched Snoopey as she walked right up to the cat while the cat hissed at her and made an ugly face (no, that was her regular face, sorry). And what did Snoopey do? She TURNED AROUND AND WALKED AWAY!

I may not be able to count on the bulldog vote after all. So it is certain. Voting is one thing that makes me mad.

(Transcriptionist: Besides, the humans hold the power to veto.)

Veto? That sounds suspicious, like something else that would make me mad.

And I haven’t even gotten to other maddening things that I put on my list – things like:

  • Moon the Cat
  • The rule against cat chasing
  • Limitation of treats to only a few times a day
  • Wiggles getting more reward treats than the rest of us

(Transcriptionist: Because she earns more than the rest of you.)

Enough for this time. I will go back to work on my mad list. I can’t do anymore now. I am just so…so…so mad!

Signed, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 [Transcriptionist’s note: Stella has gone to cool down and chew on her Nylabone. Meanwhile, we will close with this:

  “Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath.”  (Ephesians 4:26 KJV)]

 

No Screeching, Please! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

The Olde English Bulldogge known as Stella has a bone to pick with me so we’ll begin our conversation:

Stella:   Bone? Where’s a bone?

Me:        There is no bone. That’s just a human expression.

Stella:   Oh, as usual, humans playing jokes, trying to fool the poor old bulldogs. First dressing up as giant insects, now teasing us with non-existent bones.

Me:        Let’s not get into that giant insect thing again. I had hoped that you had forgotten about that.

Stella:   A giant insect does not fade from the memory.

Me:        Obviously not.

Stella:   I thought you had seen one and that is why you were screeching.

Me:        Screeching? I haven’t screeched about anything. What are you talking about?

Stella:   That horrible, high-pitched noise that was coming out of your mouth this morning. It hurt my ears so much; I wanted to cover them up.

Me:        I haven’t been screeching, Stella. I don’t know what you are talking about….unless…I found an old songbook that I had when I was little and I was singing out of it.

Stella:   Is a songbook one of those dead flat things that you hold on your lap and stare at and it causes you to pay no attention to us?

Me:        Well, yes, that or a regular book or a cell phone or a computer…

Stella:   Just because you found an old, dead songbook that you had when you were a puppy is no reason to screech in our ears over it.

Me:        Did my singing bother the others, too?

Stella:   Who cares? It bothered me.

Me:        I am sorry. I do enjoy singing sometimes.

Stella:   I enjoy chewing on a good stick sometimes, but I don’t pretend to be one of those humans who…Awwwww, you know, they take sticks and build boxes and stuff.

Me:        A carpenter? A craftsman?

Stella:   Yeah, those, I guess.

Me:        I don’t pretend to be a singer. And as for screechy noises, how about that voice you use that is so high-pitched and ear-splitting.

Stella:   You mean the Cat Chasing Song of my people.

Me:        Is that what you call it? It’s a bulldog song?

Stella:   It tells the bulldogs within ear range that there’s a cat afoot and it’s time to play.

Me:        So why are you allowed to sing all screechy and I am not?

Stella:   My song serves a purpose; yours, not so much.

Me:        Maybe we should both agree to cover our ears when the other one is “singing”.

Stella:   Or we can agree that you will sing silently in your head or buy a good recording of your songs. My song must be sung live and aloud. It is a treasured bulldog tradition.

Me:        Is that why you keep “singing” when I ask you to stop?

Stella:   You wouldn’t want to interfere with a tradition, would you?

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Watch Out! What’s That Up Ahead?

Posted on by H.J. Hill

The warm weather arrived just prior to the annual air conditioning launch. We turned the ceiling fans up to maximum, but even without cooking or baking inside the house, it wasn’t quite enough. Oh, we and the cat and the heat-sensitive bulldogs were going to live all right. Our ideal comfort level eluded us though.

We gathered the portable fans from their various locations around the house, plugged them in, turned them on high, and let them buzz their mechanical hearts out. The dogs accepted the stirred air graciously and settled down, tongues back in mouths.

The fans twirled all night and still ran strong when the cooler morning came. Nobody appeared disturbed by their presence until Tiger had to go out. She darted past me as she usually does. She has “grown up”, matured during the past few weeks. Gone are her incessant attempts to feud with Snoopey over who’s in charge of the pack. I’m not saying that is over and done with, simply that Tiger has cooled her efforts in that direction for the time being.

Tiger came back in the house and scooted past her crate, running her nose over the floor in case she had missed any food crumbs from her breakfast. When I asked her to go into her crate so I could run my errands, she backed away and glanced at the odd little round thing nearby. One of the fans, happily whirring at full blast, aimed its current of air across that side of the room.

The bulldogs are always sensitive to oddities and new items that suddenly appear in their paths. I realized right away what Tiger was trying to avoid.

I thought for a moment about moving it farther away, but I opted for an exercise in trust – her trust in me.

I called her. She hesitated and stayed back. I extended my hand. Still she waited and refused to pass the fan. I stepped forward until I could reach her and I stroked her head and neck, telling her the whole time that everything was all right and that she was safe with me. She walked a few steps toward me and the crate. She stopped alongside the vicious fan and let me pet her.

And just like that, the fan was no longer a problem. It never really had been, but Tiger didn’t realize that. She took a step of faith in me and finally trusted me enough to let me help her past her fear.

I should know better than Tiger. I don’t.

I cringe and pull back when there is something strange in my path. I am supposed to trust God to walk me past it, but I don’t. I hesitate, hold back, delay, wonder, and try to figure it out myself. And then, eventually, I take one step toward Him and His hand is there. He was there the whole time.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4 KJV

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I Demand to Speak to a Manager – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Stella, our opinionated Olde English Bulldogge, has a complaint she wishes to air. So let’s begin the conversation:

Me:        Hi, Stella! What’s the problem?

Stella:   Are you the one in command here? Because I only want to talk to the one in command.

Me:        Well, no bulldog, or cat for that matter, is in command that’s for sure. And “command” is not the best word. This is our home. It is not the army. The humans are in charge here. Why would you doubt that?

Stella:   Because first Snoopey and then Tiger each told me that they are in command. And because Wiggles is always disobeying and doing whatever she wants and she gets by with it because “she is so sweet” and “the sweetest dog ever”. Yuck! What gushy nonsense! Humans are supposed to be smart. How can you fall for that act?

Me:        Wiggles is super sweet. She dances in her comma shape and only wants head pets and neck rubs and the occasional treat.

Stella:   Aagghh! The occasional treat! I think you’ve lost count. But really, IS ANYONE IN CHARGE HERE?

Me:        We humans are. Why?

Stella:   Everything is so chaotic. Nobody is listening. Nobody obeys the rules.

Me:        Nobody? Not even you?

Stella:   Me? Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. What was the question?

Me:        You want to know if anyone is in charge. You say that no one obeys the rules. Do you obey the rules?

Stella:   Me? Yes. Well, sometimes. Hmmm. I’m not really clear on what the rules are.

Me:        How about one rule? Is there a rule against chasing the cat?

Stella:   And that’s all the time we have for our conversation today, people…

Me:        Nope. We have plenty of time.

Stella:   But I don’t like that no-cat-chasing rule.

Me:        Not the point.

Stella:   Awwww!

Me:        I understand. Humans have rules set for us, too, and some of them I flat don’t like.

Stella:   So you ignore them.

Me:        No. If they are silly or useless, I may try to get them changed. But some rules are set by God and wisdom tells me that they are good and for my safety and they won’t change. God is God and I am not.

Stella:   Is the no-cat-chasing rule one of God’s rules?

Me:        I wish I could say it is, but no. It’s one of our rules.

Stella:   So about these changeable rules, how do I go about working on that?

Me:        Write your legislator, but I don’t think you’ll get far with that. Bulldogs can’t vote.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J.Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Four-Legged Bowling Balls

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I don’t count myself as the most graceful person on two legs. Clumsy is a more accurate description for me. Yet most of the time I can stay upright and move along at a reasonable clip. There was one instance when I tripped over my own feet on slightly uneven pavement and took a nosedive – literally. (My nose became well acquainted with the asphalt in a parking lot. My DNA is likely still there.)

Having bulldogs around has reinforced the need for me to keep my feet firmly set on the ground.

I have described the dogs as barrel racers, as two feet long by 18 inch tall Sherman tanks, and now I think of them as four-legged bowling balls. They don’t make quite the same noise as a bowling ball picking up speed down a lane, but if I get in their way when they are running, my legs become bowling pins and, well, you can picture the rest.

All in all, the bulldogs have made me more nimble on my feet. I don’t always hear their galloping up on me from behind. All of a sudden, a head brushes my leg as a bulldog barrels past, my leg buckles at the knee, and I struggle to stay upright. The excited dog has no idea how close I came to collapse.

After all, they have four legs; I have two. Dogs can count. They just don’t put two and two together. Four feet on the ground are a distinct advantage for balance.

Also, our bulldogs have no concept of a passing lane. Hey, y’all, there is plenty of room to run around me. You don’t have to touch me or come so close.

So what is this new lesson from bulldogs?

Keep an eye on what may be rushing up on you from behind.

Not everybody is going to be looking out for your safety so DRIVE FRIENDLY!

Keep your balance even if someone else tries to take your feet out from under you.

Hop around on one leg until you can get two (or more) back on the ground. If you                     can’t get two back on the ground, just keep going on one.

Be flexible. Be Flexible!  BE FLEXIBLE!

The ground is always there to catch you. So is God.

“For Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.”           (Psalm 116:8 KJV)

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved

 

 

Stella’s Blog – Hello, Cat! Where Are You?

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello. I am Stella. I am an Olde English Bulldogge. In fact, I am their Queen. No one elected me. No committee selected me. I selected me.

It was hard sitting around the first two years of my life while no human understood who I really am. During that time, I was not accorded the honors due me as Queen. That was not the fault of my old humans per se. They were ignorant. I wasn’t wearing a crown.

When I came to my new home with my new humans, I made my status clear from the beginning. Once, Tall Man invited me to stay in a dome-shaped house in the backyard. Are you kidding me? There was no television. There was no cat to chase. Did that really look like the palace of a queen? I put on my best “We are not amused” sad face and succeeded in putting a quick end to that nonsense. Tall Man brought back into my main house right away.

I am Queen Stella. Treat me like a queen and give me treats and we will get along fine. Let me say it again. Give me treats!

I have been blogging more lately because I have a lot to say. Humans never stop talking so I figure neither should I. Bulldogs do not exercise their free speech rights often enough.

Anyone who has been around us for long has seen it. Other dogs are barking and the good old bulldog is just sitting there, slump shouldered, panting, maybe burping a little bit (it happens), but otherwise quiet, not saying anything. Every once in a while, we might blow out a lip ruffle simply to let the humans know that we don’t approve of what’s going on. We disapprove of much so the classic bulldog lip ruffle comes in handy.

Which leads me to my List of Offenders which has only two names on it this time:

Lady Human and Moon the Cat

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Lady Human disagrees with me and says humans do not belong on the List of Offenders and I say oh, yes, they do! This time Lady Human seems to be in cahoots with Moon the Cat. I have been looking for the cat in order to chase her and I can’t ever seem to find her. When I ask Lady Human where she is, Lady just smiles and says, “Oh, she’s around.” And then she adds something ridiculous like, “You shouldn’t chase the cat.”

Oh, yes, I should! Do you know what Moon the Cat was doing the past few days? She walked up to each of us bulldogs DURING NAPTIME and meowed right in our faces. Incredibly rude! And I hear new noises sometimes coming from above my head, coming from places I can’t see because I’m not tall enough (bulldog, remember?). I suspect that Moon has new high perches to hide on and spy down on us.

Lady Human thinks it’s funny now, but how funny will it be when the cat pounces down on her from the new high spot. And why does a cat have a perch anyway? She’s not a bird!

But no one listens to me. [deep bulldog sigh] I am only the Queen.

Signed, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Stella’s Blog – Be Nice!

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello! I have returned to my blog to give you my insight, the wisdom of an Olde English Bulldogge, and please understand that Olde English Bulldogge is my official breed and has nothing to do with my age or nationality. I don’t really know what “nationality” means. I will ask about that another time.

Anyway, my transcriptionist (a.k.a. Lady Human – yes, I am still employing her. I wish I could get someone better, but no one else will work for a dog for free) – she tells me that I am not being NICE to the other dogs or to the cat and that I should try harder to be NICE.

NICE is a human word that does not translate well into dog languages. I am attempting to understand what I am supposed to do, what NICE is, but the best I can grasp to this point from the humans is that NICE means:

“soft”

“no barking”

“no biting”

“no pooping or peeing inside the human house”

“no whining”

“tastes good”

“feels good”

“smells good”

“fits well”

And about a million other things that humans think are important. (No, I do not know how many a million is, but I gather that it is a bunch, like more than all the treats in the world. So I would not mind having a million NICE treats.)

I don’t think that I can be NICE. It is too big a burden for one dog, especially a bulldog.

Soft? My face is smooshy soft, but how does that help the other dogs or Moon the cat.

No barking? That’s simply unreasonable. I AM A DOG! Besides which, THEY STARTED IT!

No biting? Look at my face with that big under bite. I was born to bite. And besides, I have never bitten any human or animal (not that there weren’t a few who deserved it. Just my opinion.) So technically, I am already NICE in this category.

No pooping or peeing inside the human house? But what if I NEED to.  What if it’s NICE for me?

No whining? Awwwww!

Tastes good? Nobody better go taste on me, I tell you what!

Feels good? That’s all right. I am NICE in that category. You can pet me all you want and then some.

Smells good? I admit it. Sometimes I make odors that are not pleasant, even to me, but if I have to be NICE and not make bad smells, then so do the others! How about some NICE smells for me?

Fits well? I can’t help the shape I am. I am a bulldog and there are lots of places that I don’t fit. Like on the floor of that little car we take camping. I tried to fit myself there, but the back seat was much more accommodating. And it is true, I am not a lap dog, but I am still trying. The humans’ laps have just got to get bigger.

The humans are going to have to come up with stuff I can do, stuff that’s not NICE.

Signed,  Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

Conversations with Stella – Language Barrier

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I’ll jump right into my conversation with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, with a question:

Me:        Stella, what in the world did you say to Wiggles that got her so wound up and freaked out?

Stella:   You know Wiggles. You don’t have to say much to her to freak her out.

Me:        But she was more agitated than I have ever seen her. I really want to understand how you all communicate with each other. You weren’t even talking at first…if that whiny weird bulldog type raw raw rah noise can be called ‘talking’…

Stella:   How insulting! Of course, it’s talking!

Me:        I’m never sure.

Stella:   What else would it be?

Me:        High pitched yawning. Low pitched burping.

Stella:   No, those are different. Allow me to demonstrate…

Me:        That’s okay. Not right now. What I witnessed between you two was, first, you calling her over to your crate and Wiggles responding.

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Stella:   Wiggles always does what I say.

Me:        We’ll get into that later. Wiggles was relaxed and then you two shared a silent, nose to nose conversation, no noises, just staring at each other, and Wiggles completely changed. She stood up straight. She hopped around Stella style…

Stella:   Thank you for naming that particular movement after me. I did invent it.

Me:        While I doubt that, calling it the Stella Hop is the easiest way for me to refer to it. Back to the point, you then verbally aimed Wiggles at the cat. What did you say to Wiggles that transformed her in an instant from a laid back, cat-friendly bulldog to a bulging-eyed bundle of nerves?

Stella:   Simple. I said, “Are you a bulldog or a cat? If you’re a bulldog, start acting like one! Now, go chase that cat off the piano!” And that’s when you interfered.

Me:        I am a human. What I do is correction, not interference.

Stella:   Well, it interfered with my plan.

Me:        I calmed her down, that’s all. I just wish I could understand what you all are saying, but the sounds make no sense to me.

Stella:   And you believe humans make sense. You never stop barking. Sit! Come! Go! No! By the way, are those two the same word, just with a different accent? And even after we do what we think you want us to do, you keep barking. It is all so confusing.

Me:        Sort of the way Wiggles was confused when you told her to chase the cat and she didn’t want to or understand why.

Stella:   No, that’s completely different. I can see that we still have a language barrier.

Me:        At least we’re working on it.

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Stella:   Humph! Stupid cat! Why can’t she act more like a bulldog? We outnumber her. You can hear us coming. She pads around on those silly soft feet and all of a sudden, WHOA! She’s right behind you. Hey, did you see where she sneaked into your room and knocked over some of your stuff?

Me:        Yes.

Stella:   You’ll never catch a bulldog knocking your stuff over or…oh…well, never mind.

 

“There are, it may be, so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is without signification.”

(1 Corinthians 14:10 KJV)

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hey! Stop Bossing Me Around!

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Only one word described the weather – wet. Excuse me. Let me make that clearer. WET!!!! The bulldogs were bored and their boredom fixated on the cat. Nobody wanted to go outside in all that water and we were taking advantage of pauses in the rain to encourage potty breaks.

Stella usually likes her bed. Again let me make that clearer. Stella LOVES her bed! And with all the down time due to the incessant bad weather, she had been a little cat-centric so she was chilling in her crate. Wiggles had just come back in from outside and was strolling around. Moon the Cat crossed the room and Wiggles trotted behind her for about three paces, then lost interest. The cat assumed her exalted position on top of the piano in serene splendor.

Well, that popped Stella’s cork.

She started whining and escalated to barking, but not at me. She barked to grab Wiggles’ attention and Wiggles ran to her side. Stella proceeded to read Wiggles the bulldog version of the Riot Act, face to face, muzzle to muzzle, nose to nose.

Sweet, calm, “I get along with everybody” Wiggles.

I don’t know what Stella said to Wiggles. I am not fluent in bulldoggese. But whatever it was, it changed Wiggles’ mind and attitude in a heartbeat.

Imagine the scene where a boss screams in the face of an employee for doing or failing to do something that the employee had no idea about, had never thought of, and didn’t even know could be done.

Within seconds, Wiggles jumped to attention, her ears sprang to the top of her head, and she did what I have never seen her do before. She performed a Stella Hop.

A Stella Hop is a sharp, quick jump left or right at about a 90 degree angle an inch or two off the ground with both front legs stiff and locked. She hopped left to face me. She hopped back to the right to face Stella and then repeated the maneuver. It is a high excitement, high energy move for a bulldog, and would be endlessly hilarious if it weren’t so obvious that the dog’s real response is confusion. I imagine that it sounds something like this inside their heads: Help me! Help me! Something is going on and I don’t know what to do. Tell me; please tell me what to do.

Wiggles’ eyes widened, round and bulging. She looked at me for help. Stella had flipped a switch inside her, but Wiggles had no idea what to do. I knew what Stella wanted because I was watching Stella’s gaze toward the piano. She wanted that cat to be chased and no one was accommodating her.

Poor Wiggles did a side take like a cartoon character rushing out of a room, but I called her back. She sat at my feet and I started the calm down process, stroking her head and repeating her name in a low voice. She melted and the real Wiggles showed back up in her face. She leaned her head into my hand and didn’t even seem to care anymore about Stella’s whiny fussing or Tiger’s barky contribution. (Tiger is an experienced cat chase instigator. She doesn’t chase the cat herself. Oh, no, she just gets the others stirred up into doing it.)

And the whole time, Moon the Cat sat on her piano throne from which she could survey her realm, like the true queen of the house.

I would so much like to be able to speak to Wiggles in a way she could understand and tell her not to give in to the bossy voices in the world. There is no shortage of them and being loud and demanding does not make them right. Wiggles, stop listening to the highest volume mouth in the room.

And once again, just like that, I have learned a life lesson from a dog.

 

©2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Conversations with Stella – Peace Talks, Part 2

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Here we are – again. With me is Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge and today we will attempt to stay on topic:

What the Freak Can We Do to Bring Peace Back into Our House?

Stella:    We talked about that yesterday.

Me:        Only briefly. Mostly we got stuck on the subject of giant insects.

Stella:    I am totally opposed to peace talks with giant insects. No peace talks with them, not now, not ever.

Me:        I apologize for Stella. Once she gets an idea in her head, in true bulldog fashion, she doesn’t let go. Back to topic, how do we resolve the conflict between Tiger and Snoopey and between the bulldogs and Moon the cat?

Stella:    As I said before, get rid of the other dogs.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Get rid of the cat.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    You and I go away on a long trip by ourselves and let them work things out.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Not camping. An air-conditioned hotel, long walks on the beach, treats, that sort of thing.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Tall Man can take care of the others. He won’t mind.

Me:        Not the point.

Stella:    You are right. Short walks on the beach. I don’t like long walks.

Me:        Again, not the point. Look, is it possible for you to talk to Tiger about the Snoopey issue, dog to dog?

Stella:    Teenagers don’t listen. Ask again in a few months. Tiger is all “I know everything. Don’t tell me what to do. Is it hot to you all in here? I feel like running. Watch me jump.” Listening is not strong with that one.

Me:        A short term solution then?

Stella:    Do what you tried this morning. Offer her a treat every time she comes inside and you want her to ignore Snoopey. It worked.

Me:        Oh, you saw that? I thought you were asleep.

Stella:    You had a treat in your hand. I can never be too soundly asleep to miss the scent of a treat floating around. Only when you do that with Tiger, give me a treat at the same time, just to keep the peace.

Me:        Hah! Just you? What about the others?

Stella:    They can make their own deals.

Me:        Treats are supposed to be earned.

Stella:    I earn a treat by my silence. You don’t know how hard it is to keep myself from barking at Tiger when she is acting like a jerk. And Tiger earns her treat when she comes in and doesn’t pick a fight with Snoopey. You don’t know how hard it is for Tiger not to act like a jerk.

Me:        And the cat chasing? How do we stop that?

Stella:    Why would we stop that?

Me:        Because it is loud, disruptive, and disorderly.

Stella:    And loads of fun and excitement. We’re running. And the cat’s running. And we’re jumping up on the furniture and knocking stuff over and the cat is on top of stuff and under stuff and behind stuff and everybody’s barking like mad…oh, I see.

Me:        We’ll keep talking about that. And your idea about a vacation is not a bad one. Maybe we can do that sometime.

Stella:    Only we have to go to a place where there are no giant insects!

Me:        That shouldn’t be too hard to find.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Conversations with Stella – Peace Talks

Posted on by H.J. Hill

May I please reintroduce Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge. She and I are conducting an open conversation on the following topic:

What the Freak Can We Do to Bring Peace Back into Our House?

Stella:    I am not familiar with the word “freak” in that question. Is that like the other week when Tall Man dressed up like a giant insect? Because that was freaky. I’m still having nightmares.

Me:        No, this use of the word “freak” is what humans call an expletive. It is used to get people’s attention and to emphasize strong emotion. Expletives are usually empty words to be avoided and there are expletives that I choose not to use. I am using “freak” here because it fits the way I feel – freaked out by all the wild behavior in the house lately. Do you understand?

Stella:    Yes. You are freaked out by giant insects, too.

Me:        No…Yes…No. Look, I would be if I ever saw a giant insect, but there aren’t any. They don’t exist. And giant insects are not the topic for discussion today.

Stella:    They should be.

Me:        Peace in the house, no more fighting or craziness, that is the conversation we are having today.

Stella:    Barking and chasing Moon the Cat will not destroy the world. Giant insects will destroy the world.

Me:        No, they won’t.

Stella:    I saw it on one of those black and white shows on TV. You really shouldn’t leave the TV on when you go out of the room. Scary.

Me:        I’ll try to remember that. Now can you help me? What can we do to bring peace to the house?

Stella:    Get rid of all the other dogs and keep me.

Me:        That wouldn’t be fair.

Stella:    It would be fair to me. I was here first. Honestly, did you have this problem when it was just me?

Me:        Well, no.

Stella:    Moon the Cat and I got along fine, even though she made those hideous hissing noises when I walked by and she has such an ugly face because…you know, CAT! And just think how much more time you would have if the others were gone. More time to do all sorts of stuff like pet me, and play with me, and groom me, and go places with me, and…

Me:        And you would no longer be Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, because there wouldn’t be any other bulldogs here. You would have no subjects.

Stella:    Wouldn’t you be here?

Me:        Okay, we have run out of time for today. We will have to take this matter up tomorrow.  Sorry we couldn’t stay on topic.

Stella:    Please join us tomorrow when our topic will be “The Growing Menace of Giant Insects”.

Me:        Nope.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

The Secret Treaties of Dogs and Cats

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I walked up on Tiger the Olde English Bulldogge and Moon the Siamese-mix Cat having a eyeball-to-eyeball negotiation in complete silence. A few seconds later, Tiger ran over to where Snoopey was napping in her crate, minding her own business, and picked a fight.

It got loud and it got tense, but at least they couldn’t reach each other. Of course, Stella had to put her two cents into the jukebox, and the noise grew louder…I think. By then, I couldn’t hear my own thoughts so maybe I just imagined that.

I think Moon made a truce with Tiger, a peace treaty of the dog/cat sort.

I, Tiger, agree that I will not chase Moon the Cat. I further agree that I will stir up trouble with the bulldog known as Snoopey instead of siccing the bulldog known as Stella on Moon the Cat.

Game changer. A new alliance has entered the Bulldoggy Nation. What else did that eye-to-eye conversation between Tiger and Moon and the subsequent events signify?

The situation between Tiger and Snoopey had relaxed. Days had been calmer. Nights had been quieter. Not perfect, just better. But Tiger remains an adolescent – a lot of excitement, little wisdom.

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I have always suspected that Tiger and Moon are secretly in league with each other. In fact, I believe they are friends. Too many times have I opened the den door in the middle of the night to find Moon sitting right by an alert but tranquil Tiger. On top of that, Tiger NEVER chases Moon. She always gets someone else to do it, usually Stella because Stella is gullible. Wiggles and Snoopey just ignore Tiger’s grumbling and pointing.

So what was Moon’s part of the bargain?

I, the feline known as Moon the Cat (yuck – that was the best the humans could do?) agree to nothing. I will merely be myself. I will not to chase bulldogs because that is not what I do.

So what understanding do I gain from watching these animals live as imperfect neighbors?

That traditional enmities are not always graven in stone? Maybe.

Never trust a cat? The jury is still out on that one.

That cats are better negotiators than dogs? After all, Tiger and Snoopey have not                     been able to work out their differences.

That “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” is a commandment, not just a good idea. (Matthew 22:39; Leviticus 19:18 KJV). Yes. Amen.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

The Leaders We Did Not Elect

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Leadership – people discuss it all the time, ponder it, lust after it, fight over it. That’s because it is significant. Leadership is imperative at every level of life. Chaos reigns without good leadership and chaos reigns under bad leadership. Jesus said that if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a ditch. (Matthew 15:14)

First, what is not leadership?

  1. A leader is not one because of a title. There are too many wearing a title as a badge or a reward who are not leaders.
  1. Position does not a leader make. Even without the title, someone in a leadership position actually has to lead.
  1. Leadership is not aggression.
  1. Leadership is not simply issuing orders.
  1. Throwing a fit is not leadership.
  1. Manipulation is not leadership.
  1. Doing nothing is not leadership. Watch a ship that has no one at the helm and see what happens.

Our bulldog pack, so far as I know, did not hold a caucus and elect a pack leader. As the dogs came along, they argued a little among themselves from time to time, but the consensus came about naturally. Which dog “cared” more for the others? Which one watched over the safety of the whole pack, including the sometimes clueless humans whose senses of hearing and smell were not quite as developed? The answer was obvious, even to humans who were observant.

Snoopey.

She stepped into the position without hesitation. The others defer to her. Whenever she comes back from having been separated from the pack, she makes a quick inspection tour. Is everyone there? Is everyone in place? Is everyone all right? Only then does she settle down.

And as for those silly humans in her life, she really has to watch out for them. If a stranger is outside, she hears it and barks appropriately. She has an alarm bark for oddities and emergencies, and she has a regular notification bark for things like, “Wake up, sleepyhead humans, it’s time for breakfast and bathroom.”

As with all leaders, Snoopey is not perfect.

She is suspicious. She keeps a keen eye out for everything. That may be the result of experiences in her young life before she came to us or it may be an inborn trait.

She is stubborn, but that is bulldoggy of her and not much different from the humans with whom she associates.

She jealously guards her prerogatives which include her food and her bedding. Oh, and don’t come sniffing around her face when she is napping. She’ll set a dog straight on that in quick order. On the other hand, if you’re a human, that’s fine. Feel free to stop by anytime.

When Tiger started to challenge Snoopey a few months ago, Snoopey put her feet down, all four of them, and took her stand. I am the pack leader. Tiger, you are young and full of energy, but that is not all that a leader needs to be. I am in charge. It took a while and some human guidance along the way, but Tiger seems to be growing up and has backed off the challenge for now, though we always remain vigilant. Ambition is a terrible mistress.

Nobody elected Snoopey. She didn’t run to convince anyone of her worthiness to lead. She just led.

May God grant us, not the leaders we deserve (that would be too horrible), but His leaders.

“He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake.” Psalm 23:3 KJV

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Hey, Sky! Give Me a Drink!

Posted on by H.J. Hill

We have bulldogs that like to play with water, whether from a hose or a squirt bottle, and we have bulldogs that stay away from that sort of frivolity, thank you all the same. A quiet drink lapped from a bowl is just fine for them. They may be willing to tolerate the occasional bath, just don’t make it a habit.

A rain shower came up suddenly while some of the dogs were outside. One wanted to return to the house right away. When I realized it was raining, I found her waiting by the door. She rushed in, glad to have escaped the falling sky water. Still the others didn’t come and I went looking for them.

They were rolling in the gathering water by the chicken run and, when I called, they looked at me with the surprised, disappointed expressions of kids called in for the night after playing on a summer evening. Awwww! Noooo! Not yet!

Well, I wasn’t going to get all wet while they were finishing their fun. It wasn’t cold. There was no lightning. Oh, well. I went back into the house, calculating how many towels would be enough to intercept the dripping from two waterlogged bulldogs.

When I looked out the door again, the stragglers had arrived and, behold, one of them had her head tilted back with her wide open bulldoggy mouth catching a thin stream of rainwater as it cascaded from the valley in the roof.

Of course, before I could swing my camera up and snap a picture, she had stopped. Enough sky water for then.

I would like to drink pure water from a fountain. Not sure about the roof thing. Maybe if it had a strainer. Bulldogs don’t over think joys like drinking rain as it falls from the sky. I need to work on accepting life’s gifts freely as the gifts of God that they are. Not every drink of water needs to be confined to a glass.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.