Me: I have invited Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, to have a conversation today regarding…
Stella: I know…I know. Something I did wrong. It has to be. No one ever wants to talk to a bulldog about what went right. Poor old bulldog. Poor old Stella.
Me: Stella, self-pity is unbecoming and undignified, especially in a bulldog.
Stella: Well, someone has to do it. Who will pity me if I don’t pity myself?
Me: Pity poor old Snoopey instead.
Stella: Nope. She already gets too much attention.
Me: She is the Alpha of the dogs. When she sounds an alarm, it’s never nonsense. There is always a reason and so we pay attention.
Stella: Is her alarm bark why she gets so many softy toys?
Me: No one has more softy dog toys than you do, which brings me to the subject at hand. I saw what you did.
Stella: You saw? Are you God?
Me: No, of course not! Why? What else did you do?
Stella: Well, what do you think I did?
Me: I saw you sneak into Snoopey’s crate when she wasn’t around and I saw you take her favorite chicken toy. You hid it in your crate.
Stella: Oh. That.
Me: Yes, that. We have talked about this hoarding business.
Stella: It is not a business. Yet. But it could be. Would you pay me extra treats to get that chicken toy back for Snoopey?
Me: Now you are holding the chicken toy for ransom?
Stella: I’m not asking much. Just a treat or two for finding it.
Me: It was never lost. I know where it is.
Stella: I…don’t…think…so.
Me: Stella, what have you done?
Stella: Nothing important. Why do you care? I didn’t take your chicken.
Me: This is why you are not allowed around my stuffed animal collection.
Stella: If you have too many, I can help you with them. They will all have a good home.
Me: You are an official hoarder.
Stella: With all due respect, as the humans say, it takes one to know one.
Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.
Bulldoggy 