Sneaking Out – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Everything was normal. We had breakfast as usual. We went outside to potty as usual. And then, suddenly, Lady Human disappeared!

Me:        I did not disappear.

Stella:    Well, I couldn’t see you. I called. You did not answer.

Me:        I went on a little excursion.

Stella:    Is that the human word for abandoning bulldogs?

Me:        I left for three – count them – three hours.

Stella:    Sneaking out like a guilty teenager.

Me:        May I remind you that I am a human adult? I don’t sneak out.

Stella:    You came back late.

Me:        I came back early.

Stella:    It seemed late to us. Why would you sneak out like that and leave us all alone?

Me:        Tall Man was here when I left.


Stella:    And then he went to that mysterious place he calls ‘work’. And we had to sit here a whole other hour and a half until you came traipsing back in like nothing had happened.

Me:        Nothing did happen. You were all fine. In fact, you were napping when I arrived. It was ten minutes before any of you noticed that I was here.

Stella:    What was so important that you had to sneak out of the house?

Me:        Once again, I did no sneaking. I went to a pen show in town.

Stella:    Pen show? You mean pens like those short sticks that you use to scratch on paper.

Me:        Yes.

Stella:    They have shows for that sort of thing? Dog shows, I understand. Dogs are wonderful to see. But scratchy sticks that make marks on paper? Nonsense. You’re making that up.

Me:        Nevertheless, that’s where I went. And, just to let you know, I may go back tomorrow. Tomorrow is the last day of the show and there are lots of tables I didn’t see adequately because I was trying not to stay away too long from y’all.

Stella:    Likely story. I have my eye on you, Lady Human. I’ll be watching.

Me:        Then I’ll be sneaking.




Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Where Have You Been? – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Nobody pulls the dog blanket over my eyes. Something went on today and I will have the truth!

Me:        Okay.

Stella:    I scent lots of dogs on you, Lady Human. Lots and lots of different dogs! Millions of nasal receptors cannot be wrong. Where have you been?

Me:        Uhhhmmm.

Stella:    Where have you been, Lady Human? Where have you been?

Me:        I went to a dog show. Specifically, a bulldog show.

Stella:    A bulldog show? Why?

Me:        Tall Man and I were invited by some friends who were showing dogs and we went. And it was very boring and nothing happened at all.

Stella:    Why are you saying that? There were bulldogs. It could not have been boring.

Me:        It was no big deal. There were some nice people and there were some beautiful dogs…

Stella:    Oh, I see.

Me:        Not that you all aren’t beautiful dogs. You are.

Stella:    I have seen those dogs at shows on the Picture Box. They are perfect. They run and prance. Their hair is lovely. I bet they smell good, too. I don’t look anything like they do.

Me:        Oh, Stella, pretty is as pretty does. Those dogs on TV look perfect because their handlers spend tons of time on their looks. I don’t care how you look.

Stella:    You never thought of taking me to one of those shows.

Me:        No, I didn’t. I just want to enjoy our life here. You can be clean and have your ears and face washed.

Stella:    Yuck!

Me:        You see! If you entered a show, there would be constant grooming and toenail trimming and…

Stella:    Yuck!

Me:        Exactly.

Stella:    You think I am ugly. Not pretty enough to show.

Me:        I admire those people and their animals, the ones that go to shows. I really do. There is an awful lot of work and diligence involved. And I’m not saying that I would never ever do it. But I am satisfied with us the way we are here. I don’t need a judge telling me that you are beautiful. I know that already. It doesn’t take a ribbon to tell me that you are a champion.

Stella:    They win ribbons? Are there treats?

Me:        No, I don’t think so.

Stella:    Never mind then. Waste of my time.



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.




Don’t Show Off! – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    Lady Human! Who are those dogs on the Picture Box?

Me:        That’s the Westminster Kennel Club Show. I recorded it.

Stella:    Do they know that the green they are prancing around on is not real grass.

Me:        They probably don’t care.

Stella:    Someone will care if they go to the bathroom on it. Somebody’s going to be mad that their green carpet isn’t green anymore. Look! It’s a bulldog. Look! He threw up! Hahahahahahaha! This is a good show!

Me:        Stella, that’s not funny. He was trying to make a good impression on the judge.

Stella:    He made a good impression on me. He didn’t miss a step. True bulldog. Wait! Judge? There’s a judge? Like judges on the Picture Box who send humans to jail? Are they sending the dogs to jail? Noooo!

Me:        Not that kind of judge. This show is a contest.

Stella:    Like the Super Bowl?

Me:        Sort of, but there is no physical contact. Thank God. I would hate to see how that would turn out.

Stella:    Easy. Bulldogs win.

Me:        Not necessarily. And there is no prize money at this dog show. The winner gets a ribbon or something and the honor of being named Best of Breed or Best of Show.

Stella:    Why is that dog standing on a table? Is that a white-coat human?

Me:        A vet? No, that is a judge, and not the jailing type judge. Each breed has set standards and that judge is checking the dog to see how well he meets those standards.

Stella:    That’s mean, Lady Human. Comparing dogs based on how we look. We can’t help that, even though that one there is very good looking. I bet humans don’t have contests comparing their looks.

Me:        Oh, you’d be surprised…

Stella:    Don’t ever put me in one of those show-off shows, Lady Human.

Me:        Don’t worry, Stella. I couldn’t if I wanted to.

Stella:    What? Why not? Don’t you think I am pretty enough?

Me:        It’s not that.

Stella:    What? You think that I can’t run around fake green grass in circles like a silly nilly and smile and smile and tilt my head and be all like ‘aren’t I the cutest thing’?

Me:        Oh, I know you can do that, especially the silly nilly part.

Stella:    Then why?

Me:        You are an Olde English Bulldogge.

Stella:    I am Queen.

Me:        Well, queen or not, ‘Oldies’ are not recognized by the American Kennel Club. Yet. That means you can’t even get into the contest.

Stella:    What do you mean ‘not recognized’? LOOK AT ME! I AM THE BULLDOGGIEST BULLDOG EVER! How could they not recognize me?

Me:        It’s hard to explain. It has to do with pedigree and bloodlines and paperwork.

Stella:    Precisely why humans should not be judging dog shows. Dogs should.

Me:        The dog shows are human events.

Stella:    Like everything else. Phufff.




Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.