Stella the Typist – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and I can type.

Me:        Woah there, partner! You can what?

Stella:   Didn’t you see? I can type! Just like a human! Yay me!

Me:        I didn’t see you type. Stepping on a computer that was left on the floor is not the same as typing.

Stella:   Yes, it is. Yes, it is. And Tall Man must’ve wanted me to practice or he would not have left his typing box open on the floor.

Me:        Tall Man is not as cautious with his typing box…with his laptop as he perhaps should be, especially with you 50, 60, and 70 pound bulldogs running around.

Stella:    I am glad that he trusts us with his typing box. It shows that he loves us.

Me:        It shows that he doesn’t love his computer.

Stella:    Let me show you what I can type. lsrjilsmjrcljsrcelisrecnsrellnjreinreajnjraiec. Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?

Me:        What does it say?

Stella:    Does that matter?

Me:        That’s pretty much the whole point of typing.

Stella:    Well, that’s a problem because I can’t read. I am a bulldog.

Me:        Then why do you want to type?

Stella:    Because it is fun! It is like dancing. Jlsfjfdsiefdklndkdfjfdoji. What does that say?

Me:        Nothing that I can decipher.

Stella:    You mean I typed in secret code? Bulldog code? You know that bulldogs talk to each other in silent code.

Me:        Yes, I have seen that. It is fascinating. But I don’t think what you type is code. I think it is…gobbledygook.

Stella:    Wow! You mean I typed in a foreign language that even you don’t know? Great! I should start my own newspaper.

Me:        Fine, so long as you understand where a whole bunch of newspapers end up.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

When in Doubt, Spit It Out! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Me:        Stella…Stella…Stella!

Stella:    Me…Me…Me…Yay, me! Wait? What?

Me:        Not everything that is in my hand belongs in your mouth.

Stella:    Why not?

Me:        Because not everything I hold in my hand is edible. You just tried to eat your metal rabies vaccination tag.

Stella:    I’m sorry. It was shiny and it looked delicious. Everything looks delicious to me.

Me:        You need to exercise a little self control. When you see that I am holding something, wait for me to let you know if it is for you. Don’t jump. Don’t grab.

Stella:    Aaaggghhh! But it takes so much time. Sometimes you walk around and around and do stuff and I patiently follow you to make sure you don’t lose a treat or drop it on the floor where some other bulldog may accidentally find it when it really belongs to me.

Me:        Think of it as just another human privilege. And you know that I would never let the other bulldogs deprive you of your treats. That would not be fair and I want to be fair to you all.

Stella:    Thank you, Lady Human. I think it would be fair if you let me taste test all treats from now on. I believe the others will benefit from my expert taste buds. I am a connoisseur of treats.

Me:        Oh, really?

Stella:    Yes, and I promise to exercise A LITTLE self control and not to try to eat my vaccination tags from now on.

Me:        That is very reasonable of you.

Stella:    Bulldogs are very reasonable creatures.

Me:        Well…trying to eat a metal disc…Reasonable? I’m not so sure.

Stella:    Once I would have tasted it, I would have realized that it was metal and I would have spit it out.

Me:        Now that is reasonable.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

The Running of the Bulldogs – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am here again with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, aka Queen and Squirrel Fighter.

Stella:    Thank you for the introduction.

Me:        Lest anyone forget.

Stella:    Precisely.

Me:        As the bulldogs’ queen, I hope you can help me.

Stella:    Oh, they don’t listen to me.  Bulldogs aren’t great followers.  They are too bulldoggy.

Me:        Oh, well.

Stella:    I know. Maybe I can yell at them. If I raise my voice and sound screechy enough, they may pay attention. LISTEN TO ME, BULLDOGS! STOP WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU ARE DOING THAT IRRITATES THE HUMANS! THAT COULD BE JUST ABOUT ANYTHING! THE HUMANS ARE VERY TOUCHY!

Me:        Touchy? Really?

Me:        Like what?

Stella:    Like farting, and barking, and…

Me:        Running pell-mell through the house?

Stella:    Oh, is that the problem? Mmmm…can’t help you.

Me:        So I gathered.

Stella:    Gathered what?

Me:        It’s an old human expression.

Stella:    So only old humans use it?

Me:        No.  It’s an old expression …Nevermind. The galloping bulldogs need to slow down.  They are going so fast that when they hit a corner, they roll over sideways and slip. I feel like those people in Spain who are running away from the bulls.

Stella:    People in Spain run away from bulls? Why? Bulldogs run at bulls. Let me go there. I will bulldog those bulls.

Me:        Not likely and not the point. In our house, running is not allowed. There is furniture to run into, floors to slide on, people to run into, people to knock over, people to step on…

Stella:    Sounds like you are focused on people and not bulldog fun.

Me:        I don’t like dodging bulldog bowling balls.

Stella:    That’s easy. When you hear us rumbling, just get out of the way.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Throw the Humans a Bone – Stella’s Blog

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge. I go by many titles, but my favorite is Queen so you all may call me that.

We bulldogs have big reputations. We are adorable. We are comedians, the funny kind. We have big, sloppy mouths with which to kiss you.

But make no mistake. We are not easy. We are a challenge. And boy howdy, that makes me proud. Bulldog proud! We should have our own flag! It could have a picture of me in the center with stars floating all around my big smiling head.

But I digress. (I don’t know what digress means, but Lady Human likes to use it when I am talking so I must be digressing. I think it means that what I am saying is important.)

When I or any of the bulldogs get tense, we are overwhelmed with a desire to chew on something, anything, but the humans are unreasonable. They won’t let us chew on furniture. Something about teeth marks looking bad. You see. As I said. Unreasonable.

Instead, the humans give us tough, hard chew bones. The bones don’t come from animals, but they taste good. Chicken flavored. Peanut butter flavored. Wonderful.

We chew and chew and chew and boom, everything is all right. I don’t know how the humans make those wonderful bones solve all problems. It is just one of their many talents. (Please don’t tell them that I said that they are talented. They would never let me forget it.)

I just wish that the humans would chew on bones themselves. There is a lot of tension being a human. I watch all the things they do, all the coming and going, all the stuff they have to carry and build and remember to do. On top of all that, they have to remember to keep our supply of treats going. No matter what else they do, really, nothing is more important than the treats.

So how can we throw the humans a bone?

I considered offering mine to Lady Human. I would enjoy watching her gnaw on one. I can just imagine her tension melting away. Is Tiger barking too much? Chew a bone. Is Miss Sweetie farting again because she ate green pecans off the ground? Chew a bone. Is Wiggles trash diving? Just chew a bone. In fact, thinking about all that has made me a little wound up. I had better keep that chew bone for myself. Lady Human will have to get her own.

Farewell, humans. Remember to hang in there and chew your bones.

Signed, Queen Stella

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Story Hour – Stella’s Blog

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hello! Here is my new story. It is based on a true event that happened to me.

Once upon a time yesterday, I was minding my own business in the yard, just running around and enjoying the super hot day (not enjoying, not really) when the sky started falling on my head.

“Oh, no!” I shouted. “The sky is melting. It got too hot and now it is dripping like water on my head, only it is not wet and it is not water.”

I stared at the pieces of the sky that bounced off of my tough bulldog head. They weren’t pieces of sky at all. They were half-eaten green pecans from one of the trees. I ran out from under the pecan tree and under the red oak tree.  Tiny acorns rained down on me. Why? Why were the trees spitting their nuts on me? I thought they liked me. I always enjoy the shade they provide and I show my appreciation by not using them as a bathroom.

I asked the trees what they thought they were doing. They did not answer. Branches shook and leaves rattled.  A shadow flew over my head.

A squirrel! A flying squirrel!

Transcriptionist: Hold on now. A flying squirrel? You said this story was based on a true event.

Dear Listeners and Readers, please ignore the interruption.

The squirrel flew from branch to branch, from tree to tree, flinging green pecans with big bite marks taken out of them. His aim was good. He was fast, but I was faster.

I took a mighty leap and flew up into the red oak tree. Through the branches and around and around the trunk, I chased the nut-thrower. Finally, I wore the squirrel out and chased him over the fence. That taught him to throw things at me!

Transcriptionist: Woah there, horsey! I think your story has run off on its own legs. When did you learn to fly?

 When you are being bombed by a squirrel, you do what you must. That squirrel learned who rules that yard. Flying Stella, Squirrel Fighter.

The End (for now).

Signed, Queen Stella

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stella the Storyteller – Stella’s Blog

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I have written a new story. Well, I have not written it. I leave that for my transcriptionist because I cannot spell. Or type. Or scratch with a stick the way she does, leaving marks all over flat papers.

I have picked up many sticks during my life, but not one of them ever left strange marks on paper; so I figure that my transcriptionist finds her marking sticks in someone else’s yard, maybe when she leaves the house and comes back with bags full of mysterious things that she never shares with us.

Even if I found a stick that would make marks, it would not matter because I cannot read the written languages of the humans. Even with their spoken words, I can only make out what a small number of their noises mean. Which reminds me – I need to start working on that bulldog/human dictionary.

Have you ever seen inside a human’s house? (Well, of course, you have. You are humans. That slipped out of my mind for a moment.) There are shelves and tables stacked with marked paper that is held together inside delicious boards. They call them books and they love them.

Did I say ‘delicious’? Forget I mentioned that. I wouldn’t chew on the humans’ books. Okay, maybe I did once and that is how I know that they are delicious.

The humans must think that books are delicious, too, though I have never seen them put one in their mouths. They carry them around and hold them and open them and stare at them for the longest time and then they carelessly leave them on the floor or on a chair where it is oh so easy for me to reach them. The humans enjoy putting temptation in my path and then act all surprised when they see me carrying one of their treasures in my mouth.

I am a bulldog! My mouth is huge! I have to fill it with something!

Transcriptionist: Were you going to tell a story?

 Oh, yes…but now I am tired. Talking about weird human behavior is exhausting. I will tell a story later. Right now, I am just going to take a tiny nap. Not long. Three, maybe four hours at most.

Sweet dreams, humans.

Signed,

Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

A Sleep Deprived Bulldog is No Fun – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge…

Stella:    Ahem.

Me:        Queen Stella…

Stella:    Thank you for setting …the record…straight. Ahhhhawwww.

Me:        Why are you yawning so much? Is it a dog thing?

Stella:    It is a tired dog thing.

Me:        But you sleep about 20 hours a day.

Stella:    Not lately. Haven’t you heard all the bulldog noise at night?

Me:        No. I must have slept through it.

Stella:    Lucky. Living in close quarters with bulldogs is hard.

Me:        Yeah, tell me about it.

Stella:    Okay.

Me:        Actually, that is a human expression that means you don’t have to tell me about it. I already know.

Stella:    Human expressions are stupid.

Me:        Agreed.

Stella:    With bulldogs, there is always snoring or farting or silly whining or barking.  How can anybody sleep under those conditions? And there are those weird noises at night and we wake up and bark to let you know in case there is a problem.

Me:        Yes, the warnings. Tall Man takes care of those. I seem to be able to sleep through them. I guess I’ve gotten used to them.

Stella:    Because you are a bulldog human.

Me:        So how can we make sure that you get more sleep?

Stella:    Earplugs against the barking and whining and snoring. And nose plugs against the bad smells.

Me:        I don’t think that’s a good idea. I have a feeling that you would end up trying to eat those earplugs and nose plugs, bulldog style.

Stella:    Only if they smell good and taste good.

Me:        So only if they are stinky and taste like garbage, right?

Stella:    Is there a problem with that?

Me:        A human problem, yes. Look, I will try to keep the nighttime bulldog disturbances to a minimum.

Stella:    I like it when you and I go camping, just the two of us. And we sleep in your little cloth house…

Me:        The tent?

Stella:    Yes, and you have lots of blankets and we eat stuff you bring and it is just the two of us. And it is quiet.

Me:        Quiet, yes, except for big rigs rolling down the highway and except for coyotes baying all night long as they go hunting.

Stella:    Wait. What? I don’t remember that. I didn’t hear that. Coyotes?

Me:        Yes. I stayed awake part of the night, listening.

Stella:    I had no idea.

Me:        You slept soundly all night long.

Stella;    What about you?

Me:        I slept and I awakened and I listened. That was my job.

Stella:    I had no idea.

Me:        Yes, that was your job.

Stella:   S0 it appears that we have been watching out for each other.

Me:        It would appear so.

Stella:    Thank you, Lady Human.

Me:        Thank you, Stella.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cat Chasing Time – Where is the Cat? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Here I am with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogges’ Queen…

Stella:    Where is the cat?

Me:         Excuse me?

Stella:    Where is the cat?

Me:         Chilling out in one of her many hiding places.

20160405_132957.jpg

Stella:    So where is the cat?

Me:        That’s for her to know and you to find out.

Stella:    That’s not funny. Is that a human game?

Me:        It was a long time ago.

Stella:    Why is the cat hiding? It is time for cat chasing.

Me:        Yeah, about that. That’s not really her favorite game.

Stella:    Why ever not? It is the most fun ever!

Me:        I have noticed something about that game that is a little odd.

Stella:    Like how I always win.

Me:        More like how you are the only one playing it.

Stella:    That is not correct. Bulldogs are cat chasers. We are all players. Whoop!

Me:        Whoop?

Stella:    Isn’t that what humans yell when they win?

Me:        Mmmmm. Not always.

Stella:    Where is the cat?

Me:        If this is a real game, you will have to find her.

Stella:    Not fair.

Me:        Of course it is fair. The cat’s hiding is part of the game. If the other bulldogs are playing, why can’t they help you find her?

Stella:    Well…to be honest, they are lazy. But you have suspected that for a long time.

Me:        No, they aren’t being lazy. They want you to play the game while they sit still and watch you run your rear end off. They bark and whine and get you all stirred up to search for the cat. Have you noticed that when they walk past the cat, they touch noses with her and there is no barking, no stomping, and no chasing? They leave that to you.

Stella:    Well…that is just…wrong! Grrrrrr! It makes me want to….

Me:        To tell the other bulldogs off?

Stella:    No, it makes me want to chase a cat. Go find me a cat to chase.

Me:        Nope. Find your own.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

What’s In The Bag? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am here with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge and, lest I forget, their Queen.

Stella:    Thank you, Lady Human, for giving me my due.

Me:        No prob, Bob.

Stella:    Who is Bob? Is he another bulldog?

Me:        Nevermind.

Stella:    What was in that bag you brought in awhile ago?

Me:        Just some special food for tonight.

Stella:    I smelled it. It is wonderful.

Me:        I noticed you working your nose.

Stella:    Did you really think that you could sneak it past me? What is it?

Me:        Barbeque beef brisket, barbeque ribs, potato salad, fried okra. That’s all.

Stella:    That’s enough. I’ll take mine right over here.

Me:        Mmmm.  I don’t think the barbeque sauce will be good for you. It might upset your stomach.

Stella:    A risk worth taking.

Me:        Nope. I’ll see if I can pull some pieces out that have no sauce on them.

Stella:    And po-ta-to salad? And fried okra?

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Awwww.

Me:        Not worth a griping belly. Not worth itchy skin patches.

Stella:    I beg to differ.

Me:        Differ away. Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure, those treats that you call chicken bacon jerky, truth be told, there is no bacon in them.

Stella:    Yes, there is.

Me:        No, there isn’t.

Stella:    What? Not fair! Where is the bacon?

Me:        Not in those treats. Just chicken.

Stella:    It cannot be.

Me:        It is. But if knowing that fact means that you don’t like them anymore, I can always give them to the others…

Stella:    NO! That won’t be necessary. I will make the sacrifice and eat them, even without the bacon.

Me:        You don’t have to.

Stella:    It is all right. I will force myself to choke them down. By the way, do you have any of those handy?

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Massage Day – May It Never End – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am Stella McStarFace.  That’s Queen Stella to all of you bulldogs and humans alike.

Me:        Stella, that comes across as demanding and rude.

Stella:   Oh, good. That was what I intended. I am glad I made myself clear.

Me:        You seem a little tense.

Stella:   Wouldn’t you be tense if you had bulldogs barking in your ears all day long, trying to steal your treats and your toys?

Me:        I do.

Stella:   How do you calm down?

Me:        I read. I have a couple of hobbies that I enjoy. I soak my feet in warm water. I may watch a little TV. Not politics though. That does not promote relaxation. Sometimes I give myself a massage.

Stella:   Massage?

Me:        I rub tight muscles in my neck and shoulders. In fact, I got something for you dogs that will massage your skin. It is a glove that I wear on my hand. It has rubbery little nubs on one side and…

Stella:   Me! Me! Me! Now! Now! Now!

Me:        Okay, there’s that demanding tone again.

Stella:   Massage! Massage! Massage!

Me:        All right, here. I just rub your shoulders and down your back and up around your neck. Stella, if you sit up, it is easier.

Stella:   Nope. Nap time.

Me:        Well, I’ll continue the massage later.

Stella:   No! Never stop!

Me:        You wouldn’t want that.

Stella:   Yes, I would.

Me:        After a while, even good things get tired. Excess is to be avoided. Like too much food.

Stella:   Is there ever such a thing as too much food?

Me:        Oh, yes.

Stella:   I would still like to try that.

Me:        I will arrange to be on vacation somewhere else that day.

Stella:   As you wish. More for me.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

What Kind of Accent is That? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am Stella.

Me:        No “Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges” this time?

Stella:    It goes without saying, though I will probably have to keep on saying it to remind everyone. Humans and bulldogs forget so easily.

Me:        What is the issue of the day?

Stella:    You talk funny.

Me:        I beg your pardon?

Stella:    Okay, I pardon you, but you still talk funny. And Tall Man does, too. You don’t sound like a lot of the people on television. I love television. Except for those weird black and white pictures of old humans from a long time ago. Scary. Humans can be ugly.

Me:        Yes, we can be, in more ways than one.

Stella:    So you should not take so many pictures of yourselves. Really scary.

Me:        Okay, thank you for pointing that out again, Stella. What about this talking funny business?

Stella:    Different humans sound different. And now I notice that different dogs sound different.

Me:        Different dogs?

Stella:    There was that dog I met who said he was from Co-lom-bee-yah. What the freak is that?

Me:        Don’t say ‘freak’, Stella. There is more than enough real cussing and fake cussing as it is in the world without bulldogs adding to it.

Stella:    Well, Mr. Co-lom-bee-yah did not understand the word ‘freak’ either. He did not understand anything that I said and I was speaking very plainly. So I want to know why I can understand some humans and some dogs and can’t understand others. Their words sound strange.

Me:        Are you telling me that dogs have different languages and accents the same way humans do?

Stella:    What? I don’t understand.

Me:        The way we pronounce words, the way we say them has to do with accents. The words we say are language. I am speaking English right now.

Stella:    What? Is English that ‘blah, blah, blah, blah” that we hear from you so often?

Me:        Oh, mercy.

Stella:    Now that sounds like that other dog I met, the one from Fran-sah. She said mer-see, mer-see, mer-see all the time. But it still didn’t sound like what you said.

Me:        Where are you meeting all these dogs from other countries?

Stella:    When I am just walking along, minding my own business. They shout at me. I wish I could answer them, but I don’t understand what they are saying. So I just say, What? It is my question for all dogs.

Me:        I had no idea that that is what we were hearing. I thought all dogs understood each other.

Stella:    If we did, we might not have so many fights.

Me:        You know what. That could be true of humans, too.

Stella:    We really need to write those human and dog dictionaries. It might straighten a bunch of problems out.

Me:        Or cause more.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bird Dogs – Can Dogs Fly? – Stella’s Blog

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Today’s subject – Bird dogs!

BIRD DOGS! I heard Lady Human talking about bird dogs so she knows about them, too! Dogs can fly! I always knew in my heart that we could. Well, some of us can anyway.

This makes me so happy that I am going to dance. Not fly. Not yet.

But now at least I know that dogs can fly. Imagine what it will be like to fly. I will take a running start – not too fast, of course. I am still a bulldog. When I get up to top speed, I will jump, just a little hop, and off the ground I’ll go and I will just keep going. Flying! A flying dog! That’ll be me!

Wait, Lady Human is saying something. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Oh.

Well, that’s disappointing. And here I got my hopes up and got excited, all for nothing.

Apparently, the humans are misusing their words again. I don’t even know why they invent words if they are not going to mean what they say.

She says that bird dogs are dogs that help hunters . No flying is involved, not by the dogs anyway.

Why don’t humans say what they mean and mean what they say? Stop it, people! This is why I like talking to dogs. Dogs are honest. Dogs are straightforward. Dogs don’t twist things around.

I suppose now Lady Human is going to tell me that a dragonfly is not a dragon. That a house fly does belong in the house. That a catfish is not a cat that fishes.

It makes me want to cry. I don’t know who to believe.

Humans and their confusing, inexplicable ways.  Why can’t they be more like us? No one ever misunderstands what a dog means.

What? Lady Human is speaking to me again. What do you mean dogs are hard to figure out? Nonsense! You are just not listening. Try harder. I know. Write a human dictionary for dogs and I will write dog dictionary for humans.

What? What do you mean pay for a transcriptionist? That is your job. You pay for things. That is your job, too.

Until next time, dear humans, I will keep trying to make communication between dogs and people plain. I want to make sure that when I ask for a treat, no one misunderstands me.

Signed, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

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

Posted on by H.J. Hill

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.

Signed,

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

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Leave It Outside – Stella’s Blog

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I, Stella McStarFace the First, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, hereby issue this edict:

 To All Olde English Bulldogges within the sound of my voice:

The following shall from henceforth be left outside the house (Personally, I don’t care what you bring in. Lady Human told me I had to talk to you all about this.)

 POOP – No matter how good it smells to you, it smells bad to the humans; therefore, no poop is to be deposited or brought inside. I mean, really? Do I have to say this? My fellow bulldogs, you know that poop belongs outside – always! If you find poop attractive (which to me is unbelievable), go ahead and sniff at it, but DON’T NOT PICK IT UP. LEAVE IT OUTSIDE!

 STICKS – You do not know where that stick has been. It is dead and fell off of a tree. The tree didn’t want it. Why do you? It may contain ants or (yuck!) spiders. The humans have given you tough chew toys. Gratitude, bulldogs! Don’t chew junk when you have better.

 MUD – Wipe your paws on the outdoor step. If the puppy pool is full of water, rinse your feet in there and do not return to the dirty yard before you go inside. Why should your paws prints be all over the floor. I have to walk there, too.

 ROTTEN CHICKEN EGGS – Don’t let the chickens fool you. If the egg were any good, they would not be shoving it in your direction. They are laughing at you, bulldogs. That’s what that cackling sound is.

 PERSONAL CONFLICTS – Lady Human insisted that I address this particular problem. Apparently, this is not something you can carry in your mouth although she says that our mouths are part of the problem. If you don’t like another bulldog, LEAVE IT OUTSIDE! We all have to live together. That means NO FIGHTING! If another bulldog ticks you off, so what? Nobody gets along with everyone else all the time. LEAVE IT OUTSIDE! It would be better for everyone if you just forgot about it and came in the house peaceable, ready to eat, drink, and enjoy toys and treats.

 In conclusion, Lady Human asked that I put this in my edict. It is the Great Creator’s desire that we all live in peace. She says that humans struggle with this as well.

 “Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.” Psalm 34:14 KJV

 “If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.” Romans 12:18 KJV

Signed, Queen Stella

 

 Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Speech! Speech! Speech! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me:        Allow me to interrupt.

Stella:   Why not? You do all the time even without permission.

Me:        Only as necessary, so yes, just about all the time. What was that horrible throaty noise you were making to the other dogs? It sounded like gargling embedded in a whine.

Stella:   You have no appreciation for bulldoggese! Horrible? Gargling? Whine?

Me:        That’s what it sounded like to my human ears.

Stella:   I was giving a speech to my followers. You humans understand this. I have been hearing nothing but speeches from your human overlords for many days now.

Me:        Uh, excuse me. We don’t have human overlords. Not that some humans don’t try to lord it over us.

Stella:   That’s not what I was hearing on the Picture Box. And if you humans make speeches, why can’t I make one…or two…or a few more to my bulldogs?

Me:        What were you saying to the bulldogs?

Stella:   I told them that humans talk a lot and say very little. I told them that they were not to worry about that. I told them that they are not responsible for human speech that means nothing. I told them to ignore the cat, too. She talks entirely too much and nothing she says makes any sense. And I told them that if they don’t understand something that a human tells them to do, they should just start barking and the humans will give up.

Me:        Oh, thank you, Stella, that is so helpful.

Stella:   You are welcome.

Me:        No wonder the bulldogs are barking so much!

Stella:   I am their Queen. They do listen to me. Sometimes.  Do humans listen to their leaders when they make speeches?

Me:        Mmmmm.

Stella:   Maybe I should start making speeches to the humans. Maybe they would listen to me.

Me:        You know, Stella, under the current circumstances, it couldn’t hurt.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

No Treats for the Wicked – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, will begin this conversation. I just witnessed something truly disturbing.

Me:        A giant insect? A giant lizard?

Stella:    No, worse. Why was the cat getting treats?

Me:        I give her cat treats every now and then.

Stella:    Why was the cat getting treats?

Me:        Because I wanted her to have something special.

Stella:    Why was the cat getting treats?

Me:        Sounds like your record is broken.

Stella:    No treats for cats!

Me:        I don’t give her your treats.

Stella:    What did she do to earn them?

Me:        She was just being herself.

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Stella:    That is simply wrong! She is a cat! You know how they are!

Me:        Well, what do you do to earn most of your treats?

Stella:    Not important!

Me:        Why can’t I give the cat treats just because I want to?

Stella:    Because CAT! Cats don’t deserve treats!

Me:        We get good things we don’t deserve and we don’t get some hard things that we do deserve.  We call that grace, both ways. Grace can’t be earned.

Stella:    Would you give me some grace?

Me:        When you say the word ‘grace’, you are really thinking about treats, aren’t you?

Stella:    When I say any word, I am always thinking about treats.

Me:        All you had to do was ask, Stella.

Stella:    Wait! Grace doesn’t mean a cat treat, does it?

Me:        No, I wouldn’t fool you like that. That wouldn’t be gracious.

“Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?…how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him?”  Matthew 7:9-11 KJV

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Promise Me or I’ll Scream – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

This is Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Please allow me to begin this conversation with a SCREAM!!! AAAAAGGGHHHHEEEEEEE!!!

Me:        Ow, Stella! What was that? It hurt my ears!

Stella:    WHERE DID YOU GO?

Me:        Stella, stop yelling! I went to the store, that’s all. I was only gone for an hour.

Stella:    Only an hour from hell!

Me:        But there’s nothing wrong. Everything seems fine. Everyone is here. No one is hurt and no one else is screaming. Why are you so upset?

Stella:    The Picture Box! Look at the Picture Box!

Me:        The television? I’m looking. It’s all right.

Stella:    All right? All right? Look at the humans running! Hear them screaming! They are being chased by a…GIANT LIZARD! You never told me that there were GIANT LIZARDS! Why? Why are there such things?

Me:        It’s all right, Stella.

Stella:    No, no it’s not! Why isn’t someone helping those poor humans?

Me:        It is not a news program. It is a movie. It’s entertainment.

Stella:    Humans think that giant lizards chasing and eating people is entertainment? Think again!

Me:        It’s all make-believe, made up stuff. It’s not real.

Stella:    You mean that there never have been any giant lizards?

Me:        Well, actually there were…

Stella:    NO! Horrible!

Me:        Calm down. They haven’t been around for a long, long time.

Stella:    Do you promise me that there are no giant lizards now?

Me:        It depends on your definition of ‘giant’. There are some lizards that are your size.

Stella:    Life is a nightmare.

Me:        No, it isn’t. In all your time on Earth, have you ever seen a lizard anywhere near your size?

Stella:    Hmmm. No. Just little guys like that green talking one that keeps showing up on the Picture Box. He’s okay.

Me:        So admit it. Life is not a nightmare.

Stella:    I will reserve judgment for now.

Me:        What can I do to make this all better for you?

Stella:    I can’t tell the difference between your human make-believe and your human news programs.

Me:        Neither can I.

Stella:    Pledge to me that you will not leave the Picture Box on when you go to the store or anyplace else.

Me:        All right. I pledge that I will not leave the television on when I leave the house. Subject to the following exceptions: I may forget, I may not be able to turn it off, someone else may turn it on, you may turn it on, I may not want to turn it off.

Stella:    That does not sound like a pledge.

Me:        The meaning of the word ‘pledge’ has weakened considerably over the years.

Stella:    So humans no longer make real pledges?

Me:        Of course they do. It all depends on who the person is who is making the pledge. And on who is receiving it.

Stella:    But you still promise that there are no more giant lizards, right?

Me:        Hmmm.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

My Heavy Crown – Stella’s Blog

Posted on by H.J. Hill

As Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, I, Stella McStarFace the First, have many responsibilities.

  1. I have to guard all of my toys to make sure they aren’t misappropriated. Misappropriated is a long word that Lady Human taught me. It means stolen by bulldogs.
  1. I have to complain – loudly, using my outdoor voice in an inappropriate manner so I get maximum attention. Inappropriate is another of Lady Human’s long words. She uses those words when she stands in front of the bulldogs and talks and talks and talks, usually after someone has caused a riot or a ruckus. The speeches are pretty boring, but they increase my vocabulary so I don’t complain about them. Much. Usually I just drift off into a nap.

So what, you may ask, do I have to complain about? That list is lengthy and the                         subject for another blog post. In fact, I should include that list in a conversation with             Lady Human. That will save time. How do the humans put it? Kill two cats with one               stone.

           (Transcriptionist: No, not cats. The old expression is…oh, nevermind.)

Please ignore any interruptions by my staff. To continue –

           3. I have the primary responsibility for chasing Moon the Cat. Oh, the others pretend                 that they will, but when they come face to face with her, what do they do? They                       stare and walk on by, leaving all the real chasing for me. It is quite lazy of them and               selfish to boot. As much as I enjoy cat-chasing, the whole weight of it should not                   fall on me and my heavy head.

4. I am the bulldog representative to the humans, not just for complaining even                          though that is the most fun. The humans are pretty clueless and I let them know                    what needs to be done, such as when we need treats, and more treats, and                                  different types of treats, and more of those treats, too. I am also the taste-tester                    for all new treats. Unless it has my royal approval, it doesn’t get shared with the                      others. Of course, I don’t mind finishing off the rejects.

I am sure that I have other queenly responsibilities, but I don’t know what they are so I don’t care. Right now, I am going to exercise my prerogative to take a long nap. Being queen is a tiring business.

Signed,

Stella the First, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

The Stupid Award – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Stella:   In my authority as Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, I hereby institute the Stupid Awards. Tah-dah! As the humans say.

Me:        Just wondering. Are the awards stupid or are the recipients stupid?

Stella:   Silence! The Queen is speaking!

Me:        Yeah, that kind of command doesn’t work on me. Human, remember?

Stella:   I am never allowed to forget. (Sigh)

Me:        I apologize, Stella. I’ll play along. Are these Stupid Awards like your List of Offenders?

Stella:   Oh, no. Offenders don’t get prizes. The Stupids will.

Me:        I can’t wait to see what they are.

Stella:   You won’t have to wait. You will be providing them.

Me:        Well…that depends…

Stella:   Each award winner will be credited with one treat of their choice, which will then be given to me.

Me:        So this is really all about you getting more treats.

Stella:   No, it is about recognizing stupidity where it lives.

Me:        There is no shortage of stupidity in the world.

Stella:   I will be happy to hand out awards for all of it. I haven’t decided what the short name for the awards should be. I am leaning toward calling them Stupies.

Me:        Who is your award winner?

Stella:   The first Stupie goes to Tiger for jumping up on your leg and digging her nail into your skin. You were wearing those pants that are missing the knee parts and she made you bleed your own blood. That was stupid.

Me:        She was not stupid. She was just excited. I think it surprised her as much as it did me.

Stella:   Drawing blood is stupid. There! I said it! I am the Queen. My decision stands. That will be one treat for me, please.

Me:        Shouldn’t you share the treat with Tiger since she won the award?

Stella:   What? Award someone for being stupid. How stupid do you think I am?

Me:        Oh, Stella, I don’t think you are stupid at all. Here’s your treat.

Stella:   Mmmmm. Sweet potato chip. Maybe I should hand out more stupid awards.

Me:        Let’s not overdo it. You don’t want to spoil your supper. By the way, what happens if you win the Stupid Award?

Stella:   Not that I ever would, but double treats for me! I win again! Yea, me!

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

Once Upon a Time – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge Queen, is back with me for another conversation. So what’s the topic this time, girl?”

Stella:   Girl? How rude! Would you call the Queen of England “girl”?

Me:        No, but the Queen of England is…how shall I say this…a real queen.

Stella:   Hmmph! You don’t know your queens, do you?  A crown does not a queen make. So, by the way, where’s my crown?

Me:        I thought you just said that a crown does not a queen make.

Stella:   That doesn’t mean I don’t want one. I have even started a story about it.

Once upon a time, there was a special dog named Stella. She was a queen, but nobody gave her a crown to wear, just a dumb old collar that was at least a pretty color. Without a crown, people could not tell that she was a queen. One day, she pulled her collar off and wore it on her head, but since it had no gold or jewels, people stared at her and said, “Look! A dog with a collar on her head. Who does she think she is – a queen?

How do you like it so far?

Me:        It’s kind of sad. Now I want to get you a crown.

Stella:   Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Make it solid gold with jewels, all different colors, and those pointy things all around the top. Will you ever wear a crown, Lady Human?

Me:        Only as God grants.

Stella:   I think you would look good in one. Not as good as I will, but good enough.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.