Happy Homecoming – Conversations with Stella

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

Me:        Why? This is a special day!

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

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

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

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

Stella:    Why ever not?

Me:        Extra calories. You know.

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

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

Stella:    You have a party hat for me?

Me:        Well, yes. This one.


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

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

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

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

Stella:    The Great Creator does not make mistakes.

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

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

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

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






Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Tiger! – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, hereby declare today HAPPY TIGER BIRTHDAY!

Me:        You mean that Tiger is happy?


Stella:    No, Tiger is always serious. Except around Tall Man. And you sometimes, Lady Human.

Me:        So, what you are really declaring is that today is Tiger’s Birthday. Happy Birthday, Tiger!

Tiger:     Thank you!

Me:        Special treat disbursement in honor of Tiger’s birthday!

Stella:    Yea! Happy Birthday, Tiger!

Miss Sweetie:    Yea! Happy Birthday!

Doodlebug:   Yea! Happy Birthday!

Wiggles:   Oh, boy! What is it called? Happy Burpday!

Me:        Snoopey?

Snoopey:   Okay, yeah, whatever.

Me:        Snoopey, wish Tiger a happy birthday.

Snoopey:   Why should I? She yells at me all the time. She prisses around and gives me the stink eye. Maybe I just don’t like her. Maybe I just don’t want to wish her a ‘happy’ birthday.

Stella:    Are we having cake?

Me:        No, just bulldog treats.

Stella:    Wait, what? Are you taking some of our bulldog treats?

Me:        No, you all are having treats. Not me.

Stella:    Not even human cake?

Me:        I’ve cut back on human cake. I don’t even necessarily have cake on my own birthday.

Stella:    That’s sad, Lady Human. Not as sad as taking our treats, but still sad.

Me:        There are lots of ways to celebrate birthdays. It doesn’t have to be with food.

Stella:    Bite your tongue! But only if it tastes good.



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.






HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME and my sister, Snoopey – Stella’s Blog

Yay! It is my birthday. Lady Human told me so. She thought it was months ago, but Tall Man showed her a paper that says it is today! I am so excited, but I don’t know why. I didn’t even know what a birthday was until she told me. I just figured that I had always been.

Oh, and since Snoopey is my sister, it is her birthday, too. Apparently, puppy sisters are born at the same time. But that is not the important point. The important point is that it’s MY BIRTHDAY!

The humans count off a certain number of days and declare that to be a year and every year on the same day, they have a birthday. And so do bulldogs. I do not understand what time is or what they call calendars. I don’t believe bulldogs need such things. Every day is special. Every day is a new beginning. When the sun comes into the morning sky, all things start over.  Things happened before, but they are not as important as what is happening right now.

And right now, it’s MY BIRTHDAY!

Lady Human says that I am three years old. That does not sound like much. I think I have been around for at least 100 years,whatever a year is. (I still don’t understand that part.)  She says that I have been here with her for a little over one year.  That can’t be right. I don’t remember much about the days before I came here.It seems so long ago. Maybe those days were not as significant. Maybe I was too young to understand them.

But none of that matters because it’s MY BIRTHDAY!

So what else does a birthday mean?

Lady Human says that some humans put special shiny hats and collars and clothes on their dogs, but she is not going to do that to us. Good! It is too hot for extra clothes right now. She says that some humans give their dogs special cakes, but our tummies are too bulldog delicate for that.

She is giving all of us extra treats, good ones like sweet potato chips and chicken bacon jerky which are our favorites.

Why the non-birthday bulldogs are getting extra treats alongside us birthday girls, I don’t understand. Lady Human says it is a celebration and besides, she doesn’t know when Wiggles’ birthday is and she doesn’t want Wiggles to miss out. I guess that’s all right as long as I get my fair share. By fair share, I mean double what everyone else gets.

(And even Moon the Cat is getting her cat treats. Why? It’s not her birthday. This is a bulldog party. No cats! Oh, nevermind. I can be generous one day a year, whatever that is.)

So to everyone out there in the world, HAPPY MY BIRTHDAY! You can have your own treats, even cake if you like and it won’t hurt your stomachs. And you can sing happy songs, too. It doesn’t matter to me. I won’t hear you.

I will be thinking about my treats and how Lady Human sang to us because we are unique and I will be dreaming of my birthday next year, whatever year means. I hope it comes tomorrow.


Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges (and Sister Snoopey who is not the Queen)


Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.