Don’t Call Yourself ‘Stupid’! – Conversations with Stella


I am Stella. I am an Olde English Bulldogge. I am their Queen.

Me:        Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Stella:    And I am not stupid.

Me:        No! Me! Me! Me!

Stella:    Apparently, Lady Human has done or said something that now displeases her, that she now considers to be a mistake. I only have a bulldog’s brain, but I understand this every time she yells at herself.

Me:        Dumb! Dumb! Dumb!

Stella:    Why are you scolding yourself, Lady Human?

Me:        Oh, you wouldn’t understand.

Stella:    So now you are calling me stupid?

Me:        No. Just stupid ole me.

Stella:    Now hear this!

Me:        Ow! That hurt my ears!

Stella:    I have to be loud to get you to hear me! Don’t call yourself ‘stupid’! You listen to your own voice more than to any other. You are not stupid. A stupid person would not love bulldogs. A stupid human would not feed us and water us and play with us and talk to us. When you lie to yourself, calling yourself that word, you start to believe it and that is bad for you. And I love you and I don’t want anything bad for you. So SHUT UP!

Me:        Stella, that was rude! And kind. Thank you.

Stella:    Don’t mention it.

Me:        I appreciate…

Stella:    No, I mean it. Don’t mention it. SHUT UP. STOP TALKING. NAP TIME.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Random Acts of Bulldog Kindness – Conversations with Stella

I am, as I always have been and ever shall be, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me:        Have you always been a queen?

Stella:    Queens are born, not made, Lady Human.

Me:        So, you were automatically a queen from the moment of your birth.

Stella:    Yes. Yes, I believe that I was.

Me:        And birth order had nothing to do with it, because I’m not sure…

Stella:    Silence! Do not question your queen!

Me:        My queen? I am not an Olde English Bulldogge. Or any bulldog. Or any dog, for that matter.

Stella:    Still we love you. Which is why we show you kindness by licking your feet.

Me:        Feet licking is defined as kindness?

Stella:    Of course. Foot washing is one of the old human customs, isn’t it? Didn’t you read me the story of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet? And didn’t the dogs lick Lazarus’ wounds?

Me:        Yes.

Stella:    And didn’t you tell me that when people went on long journeys, one of the first acts of kindness was when their host would wash their feet and even your ancestors practiced that as a courtesy in the deep woods of whatever scary part of the world it was they were from?

Me:        Texas. Yes, it was refreshing and welcome after a long, hot walk or ride.

Stella:    And your great – great – great – great – great – great – great – great – great…

Me:        Okay, how ever many times great…

Stella:    …grand sire would pay his grandchildren a nickel a piece if they would wash his feet on a hot day?

Me:        A nickel was a small fortune to a young child way back then. They could buy candy and pencils and all kinds of things for that.

Stella:    Which reminds me, Lady Human, wouldn’t a nickel buy a lot of treats?

Me:        Well, not much at today’s prices. Besides, are you performing random acts of bulldog kindness for reward?

Stella:    No, you are giving us treats as random acts of human kindness. I mean, just because an act is kind doesn’t mean it has to be uneven, right?

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.