Blame It on the Cat – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Shhhhh! Everybody, no barking or fussing. We have something to cover up. Silent, nose-to-nose communication only.

Me:        Wait! What’s going on?

Stella:    Who says anything is going on?

Me:        Your silent, nose-to-nose communication. Did you think that I wouldn’t notice?

Stella:    Yes. The ways of bulldogs are mysterious. Aren’t they?

Me:        Can you identify the source of the bad gas smell in the den?

Stella:    Bad gas smell? Sounds like a human problem. No issue here among the bulldogs. Right, pack? Pack? Hey, a little backup needed here!

Miss Sweetie:    Silent, nose-to-nose communication only, Aunt Stella. Remember? Cover up.

Stella:    Thank you, Sweetie. Why don’t you go sit over there where you can’t hear?

Me:        So, whose stomach is upset?

Stella:    The cat. Yeah, that’s it. The cat. Have you seen? She uses the bathroom in a box INSIDE THE HOUSE! I thought that was against the rules, except for humans who also use the bathroom INSIDE THE HOUSE! Unfair. Unfair. Unfair…

Me:        I don’t believe that Moon is responsible for the bad gas smell.

Stella:    Of course, she would say that!

Me:        I think maybe you have a little stomach upset.

Stella:    Lady Human, for shame! It’s the cat. It’s just like something she would do.

Me:        How about some pumpkin in your food?

Stella:    Well…I don’t know.

Me:        You like pumpkin, right?

Stella:    Well…maybe a little would be okay.

Me:        There. I don’t think we will be experiencing any more bad gas smell problems in a while.

Stella:    Now if only you would do something about the cat.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

What is Gasoline and Why Should I Care? – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. The humans are speaking gibberish again, but I am attempting to understand them. Once more, they are stressed about some nonsense called ‘gasoline’. Of course. They are always stressed about something or other. This is just the latest in a long list. Lady Human, what is ‘gasoline’ and why should I care? P.S. I don’t really care, but you all are talking about it and not about me so…

Me:        Do you remember going on those campouts with me?

Stella:    How can I forget? We went from living in a comfortable house that is real to living in a cramped fake little house made of cloth and you thought it was fun. By the way, what does the word ‘fun’ mean to humans, because I don’t think it means the same thing to dogs.

Me:        Getting back to the gasoline issue, do you remember on those trips when I would stop, get out, and put a nozzle into the side of the car?

Stella:    Yeah, that was just plain weird.

Me:        Okay, as weird as it looked, that nozzle was pumping gasoline into the car. Cars and trucks use gasoline as fuel and, if the car runs out of gasoline, it stops working until it gets more. Does that make sense?

Stella:    All right, so gasoline is to a car as food and treats are to us.

Me:        YES! Very good, Stella!

Stella:    So, gasoline is car food. Why are you and Tall Man talking so much about car food?

Me:        Well, the hurricane impacted some of the places on the coast that make gasoline and there are these things called pipelines…

Stella:    Yet another nonsense word.

Me:        …that carry gasoline so it can be put on big tanker trucks and brought to stations where we pump it into cars and smaller trucks. And the flooding impacted a pipeline and so not as much gasoline is flowing temporarily. They are working on it and fuel is coming in from other places.

Stella:    Do these pipelines carry our food and treats, too?

Me:        No, and you wouldn’t want them to because the food and treats would taste and smell like gasoline and might catch on fire if you lit a match around them.

Stella:    I can’t light matches, Lady Human. I am a bulldog.

Me:        I am grateful for that, Stella.

Stella:    Bottom line: Our food and treats are all right then.

Me:        Yes.

Stella:    So, the problem is…what?

Me:        People around here are buying up as much gasoline as their vehicles will hold all at the same time so they won’t go empty over the weekend and some gas stations are running out of gas. It should all be fixed as soon as the tankers roll in. Local problem. Minor inconvenience. It just requires a little planning if we are going far.

Stella:    Gas stations? Running out of gas? Why didn’t you say so? We are bulldogs. We have plenty of gas. You will never run out. Just take us to them. We can fill them back up. Happy to help.

Me:        Hmmm. It doesn’t really work that way. It’s not the same thing. You see, ‘gas’ can mean different things and they are all different from ‘gasoline’.

Stella:    Never mind, complicated human. I give up. We offer you our store of gas and you turn us down. Fine. Just plan to stay home this weekend while a whole wealth of fuel is sitting right at your feet.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Welcome to The Bulldog Cafe – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges and proprietor of The Bulldog Café.

Me:        The Bulldog Café? Is that a real thing?

Stella:    Of course. On the menu tonight is Victor Adult Dog food. It comes in a big yellow bag. It does not make you sick and our skin is fine so I guess it is okay. I used to eat a food that gave me lots of bad gas…

Me:        Wait. You are running a café? Don’t talk about bad gas and skin problems.

Stella:    What else should bulldogs talk about? When it comes to food, only the very best and that means stuff that doesn’t give you gas or make your skin itch and your hair fall out. Now where was I before I was so RUDELY interrupted? Oh, yes…on our menu tonight, popcorn.

Me:        No.

Stella:    How can I run a café without desserts and snacks?

Me:        No popcorn.

Stella:    Just a little bit.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    But…but…but…

Me:        I am not saying never. I am saying not tonight. I’ll do more research.

Stella:    Research besmirch. You humans and your little black boxes and your fingers tapping, tapping, tapping. On our menu tonight, ice cream.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Why ever not?

Me:        I don’t have any and I have to do…

Stella:    I know. I know. More research. Leave it to a human to make everything complicated and unfun. So, what’s left? Oh, yes. On our menu tonight – plain water. There! Does that make you happy, Lady Human?

Me:        Well, it doesn’t make me unhappy. In fact, I’ll have some with you. Water is healthy.

Stella:    Yippee! So much for The Bulldog Café. I can’t wait to see our ratings on Yelp. Phhhuuuhhh!

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill

The Chicken Conspiracy – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    Run! Run! Get away as fast as you can! You can thank me later. Me, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me:        Stella, what’s wrong?

Stella:    Take a deep breath through your limited human nose.

Me:        Whoa! Who did that?

Stella:    Miss Sweetie. It was a gas attack.

Me:        Poor Miss Sweetie.

Stella:    Poor us, you mean. Run! Run for your lives! No, not you, Sweetie. You stay right there.

Me:        Our lives are not in danger.

Stella:    You could’ve fooled me.

Me:        Whoa, Sweetie! What did you eat?

Stella:    It’s the fault of the chickens. They pushed an egg out of their run. Right at her. On purpose. They know she has no self-control when it comes to their eggs. Wicked chickens.

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Me:        Maybe they were being friendly.

Stella:    Friendly? Stinking up the whole world is friendly?

Me:        It’s not the whole world. It’s really just a few feet around Miss Sweetie.

Stella:    No, Lady Human, the chickens conspired to run us from the yard. I am a queen. Queens know when there is a conspiracy afoot.

Me:        Afoot? You have been watching too much Sherlock.

Stella:    Or have you been watching too much Sherlock? That may be part of their plan, too.

Me:        Why would they care if you are in the yard? They have their run and their house. They don’t even cross paths with you.

Stella:    Chickens are smarter than humans give them credit for being. They are planning a takeover. Do you see how they hunker down together like a big pile of fuzz? That’s when they discuss it. Oh no, maybe the squirrels are in on it!

Me:        Okay, time for some fresh air, Stella. I think the gas has gone to your head.

Stella:    That’s it! We need gas masks. Tell Tall Man to get some. Like the one he wears when he cuts the grass and pretends to be a giant insect. Bulldogs will not be outsmarted by chickens. We will defeat this conspiracy. We will all look like giant insects. I can’t wait to see what the chickens will have to say about that.

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.