Bulldog Ballet – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Doodlebug:        And I am Doodlebug Dancing Dog. Please use my full name.

Miss Sweetie:    Nope. It’s too long. I will keep calling you Doodle.

Me:        He always makes me laugh when he does that. I just wish I knew when he was going to do it.

Stella:    What? That prancing he does on his hind legs? That’s not dancing. That’s two-footed, tall dog begging. Haven’t you noticed, Lady Human?

Me:        Noticed what?

Stella:    He only does it when you have food in your hands. I thought humans were smart and observant. I guess I was wrong again.

Tiger:     That’s nothing. Look what I can do. Spin. Spin. Spin. Now the other way. Spin. Spin. Spin.

Me:        You two should start a ballet company. Toe dancers.

Wiggles:   I can dance. Watch. MMMPH! UMMMPH! No, I can’t. Never mind.

Me:        You can comma dance. More like tap dancing than ballet…

Wiggles:   That makes me Wiggles Comma Dancer.

Tiger:     What is my dancing name?

Stella:    Tiger Twinkle Toes.

Tiger:     How dare you!

Me:        How about something that takes your spinning into account? Something like Tiger Torque Wrench.

Tiger:     Yes, that is more dignified for a strong bulldog like me. Thank you, Lady Human.

Me:        Miss Sweetie, do you want to dance?

Miss Sweetie:    Mmmm, nope.

Me:        It would be good exercise.

Miss Sweetie:    I already exercise. Cat chasing. Couch jumping. Rampaging. Oh, and the most important exercise. Napping. Call me Sweetie Snooze Sleeper.

Stella:    No one is going to buy a ticket to watch that.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Cat Sitting – Conversations with Stella

Me:        Stella, this morning, I was in the kitchen, calmly, methodically preparing my breakfast, when what to my wondering ears should sound but the excited, LOUD barking of bulldogs and an extremely annoyed feline cry from our cat, Moon.

Stella:    Yes, it was very exciting. And annoying. I don’t know why the cat was upset.

Me:        Perhaps because you were up on the couch…

Stella:    Yes.

Me:        On Moon’s cat bed…

Stella:    Yes.

Me:        SITTING ON HER!

Stella:    Please define ‘sitting on’.

Me:        Stella, your rear end was wedged up against her in the corner of the couch.

Stella:    That was not ‘sitting on’. That was sharing. We were sharing her cat bed. It has limited space so I had to squish into it which meant I had to squish into her.

Me:        Sitting or squishy sharing, Moon was not happy. Did she invite you to share her bed?

Stella:    Please define ‘invite’.

Me:         Did you get scratched?

Stella:    No. She tried, but all she could reach was my big ole bulldog behind and she couldn’t get through my thick bulldog hair.

Me:        Amazing.

Stella:    Yes, I am. I still don’t understand why she was upset.

Me:        You invaded her personal space.

Stella:    But I didn’t drool on her.

Me:        But you leaned on her.

Stella:    But I didn’t try to chew on her.

Me:        But your big bulldog body had her trapped.

Stella:    Yes. That was funny.

Me:        Not to her. Moon is an incredibly patient, tolerant cat to put up with all the bulldog nonsense that goes on around here.

Stella:    Which is really human nonsense, remember. The humans are in charge.

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Me:        And another thing. The others just go up to her and touch noses or give her a sidelong glance and walk on. You seem to be the only one that moves in like a linebacker and tackles her if she doesn’t jump away in time.

Stella:    Was that a football reference, Lady Human? I love football.

Me:        We’re drifting off topic. My question is why are you the only bulldog who tries to make contact with the cat?

Stella:    Well, somebody has to get her to exercise.

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.