Booties Are For Babies – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogs. Lady Human, the sky spit ice on my chair.

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Me:        That’s my chair, and yes, a little ice was on it for a very short time.

Stella:    You know the saying: What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine.

Me:        No.

Stella:    Well, it goes like this: What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine. It’s an old bulldog saying.

Me:        No doubt it is. I’m going with an older human saying. What’s mine is mine.

Stella:    Oh, all right. In that case, the sky spit ice on YOUR chair. Worse. The sky made my feet cold.

Me:        The sleet…

Stella:    The what?

Me:        The icy sky spittle did not last long at all on the ground. About the only thing I can do to help on cold days is to put your booties on you. They will protect your feet for the short time you are out.

Stella:    Are booties those weird little softie shoes that you kept trying to sneak on my feet the other week when the snow that was promised to us never showed up?

Me:        Yeah. As I recall, you weren’t too fond of them.

Stella:    What is to be fond of? They are weird little shoes. They look like blue and black fish that have swallowed my feet.

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Me:        They aren’t supposed to be stylish. They are supposed to cover your feet in bad weather.

Stella:    If you like them so much, you wear them.

Me:        They don’t come near to fitting me and I already have winter boots.

Stella:    And I’ll bet that yours don’t look like blue and black fish that are eating your feet.

Me:        It’s either booties or cold feet. Your choice.

Stella:    Booties are for babies, not bulldogs! Wait! The human baby that visits us, does she have booties? Does she need them? Do her feet get cold? Oh, no! I don’t want that! She can take mine.

Me:        She has lots of socks and even some shoes now. But thank you, it was a very kind offer.

Stella:    Not so much. I thought it might be a way to get rid of those ugly booties.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Where’s My Snow Dog? – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges and I am disappointed. Where is the snow I was promised? Where is my Snow Dog that you promised to make for me?

Me:        The snow flew over us during the night and landed on our neighbors to the south.

Stella:    But you said that the snow was coming along with some delightful ice.

Me:        Well, for whatever reason, it didn’t happen. We didn’t even get enough to cover the underside of your puppy pool.

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Stella:    But you said…

Me:        All the reports pointed to snow.

Stella:    Lady Human! FOR SHAME! You lied to a dog!

Me:        I didn’t lie. The weather forecasters kept saying that we would have 1 – 2 inches of snow here.

Stella:    Lady Human! FOR SHAME! You let weather forecasters lie to a dog!

Me:        They didn’t lie either. The weather just didn’t follow through with its promise. There was snow. Just farther south. It skipped us…again.

Stella;    I want you to march right down there to those people who stole our snow and get it back.

Me:        Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Let them enjoy their snow day.

Stella:    And what about MY snow day? I had all these plans.

Me:        Like what?

Stella:    Breakfast.

Me:        You already had breakfast.

Stella:    Yeah, but there was no snow to stare at through the glass. And what about potty time?

Me:        You’ve already had that, too.

Stella:    Yeah, but there was no snow to freeze my feet and I was looking forward to that. And what about my softie toys?

Me:        What about them? They are all right there.

Stella:    But now there is no snow to dunk them in and they were hoping to be introduced to snow. They are so disappointed.

Me:        There’s no mud aftermath to drag them through either.

Stella:    Yes, and there’s that. They really missed out. And what about nap time?

Me:        I dare say nap time will go on today as scheduled.

Stella:    Maybe, but I won’t get to nap in snow.

Me:        You weren’t going to get to nap in the snow anyway. It’s too friggin’ cold outside.

Stella:    Still, it was something to dream about. And then there is the worst thing of all that the No Snow Day has brought. Where, oh where is my little Snow Dog?

Me:        You’ve got me there. There isn’t even enough for a good snowball, much less a Snow Dog. Oh, well, maybe next time.

Stella:    Do you mean to say that this horrible disappointment is going to happen again?

Me:        More than likely. And then one day, probably in March when it is least expected, we will wake up to a lovely blanket of snow and/or ice that no one forecast, and we can make your Snow and/or Ice Dog. And here’s some news. The sun is out, and the sky is clear.

Stella;    Great!  Sunbath time!

Me:        It’s 19 degrees.

Stella:    And your point is?

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Curfew Violator – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and once again, Lady Human has broken her curfew.

Me:        I am a grown human. I have no curfew. Besides, I went to the grocery store at 3:30 in the afternoon.

Stella:    And you said when you left that you would not be gone long. But you were gone long. And do you know what happened while you were gone? Big booms and light flashes in the sky. And rain hit the glass squares in the wall like buckets of water being thrown by a giant.

Me:        That’s an interesting image, Stella.

Stella:    A giant insect.

Me:        Ohhh-kay. Well, the same storm hit the store where I was. That is why I was delayed. The wind blew the heavy rain sideways, so thick and fast that we couldn’t see the parking lot. It was wrapped in gray. It looked like a hurricane.

Stella:    What would have happened if you had never come back?

Me:        Don’t worry, girl. Tall Man would have been here after his work ends.

Stella:    There was no storm where Tall Man is?

Me:        Yes, there was.

Stella:    It was not as bad as our storm?

Me:        A little worse. They had wind and rain and hail the size of ping pong balls.

Stella:    No!!! The Great Creator must tell the sky to stop throwing ping pong balls!

Me:        I am adding that to my prayer list. Really.

Stella:    Why does the sky throw ping pong balls?

Me:        They are actually chunks of ice. You see, water starts to come down through the atmosphere. Way up there, it is very cold and the water freezes; then another wind pushes the ice back up where it gets coated with another layer of water which also freezes, and that keeps on happening until the ice chunk is heavier than the upper wind can support and it falls to the ground…

Stella:    Boring! I mean why can’t the sky throw flowers or real ping pong balls that we could chase or…treats! That would be useful and it wouldn’t hurt if someone got hit by them!

Me:        Things aren’t set up that way. Flowers don’t fall from the sky. They grow from the ground.

Stella:    I think that should be different. I think ping pong ice should not fall from the sky. Flowers should.

Me:        Is that your bulldog plan?

Stella:    Yes.

Me:        Have you figured out how this will take place?

Stella:    No. I am letting you and the Great Creator work that out.

Me:        That is wise. I think that I will turn that over to Him. He is much better at planning how the earth works than I am.

Stella:    Probably a good idea, Lady Human. I have seen how you plan things.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.