A Cat By Any Other Name – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. By my authority as Queen, I hereby bestow on our feline, Moon the Cat, a new name.

Me:        “Our feline”? I thought you had eternal enmity for cats. A new name? There are so many things wrong with this picture., I don’t know where to begin.

Stella:    Then let me begin. Our cat shall henceforth and forever be known to all as “MOONCAT”. After all, she is the color of the moon in the sky, all dark gray and light gray and medium gray.

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Me:        No more Moon the Cat? She’s been called that since she’s been with us, many years before you came.

Stella:    Just because someone has been called a name for a long time does not mean that they have to be stuck with it.

Me:        Doesn’t Moon the Cat have a say-so in this?

Stella:    I will inform her of the change later. Mooncat will not object. Consider it, Lady Human. Would you like to be called, “Lady THE Human”?

Me:        No.

Stella:    You see?

Me:        Since neither Lady nor Human are part of my name.

Stella:    Then why do I call you that?

Me:        It’s just a thing between you and me. Let me ask you this. Would you like to be called “Stelladog”?

Stella:    Of course not. How silly! If I were to be called anything other than Queen Stella or Your Majesty, it would be STELLABULLDOG. I hope I have made that perfectly clear.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

Best Friends Are Hard to Replace – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human! Complaint!

Me:        I’ll bet I know what it is, too. From the look on your face and the pffft sound from your mouth.

Stella:    Why, oh why?

Me:        Why is the cat on my lap?

Stella:    No. My question is why is the cat on your lap all the time?

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Me:        I think she wants some extra comfort, companionship.

Stella:    She can get that from across the room like normal.

Me:        She’s not feeling normal just now.

Stella:    She didn’t do that before Snoopey…oh.

Me:        For whatever reason, she and Snoopey were best friends.

Stella:    Well, that’s simply weird. Weird of Snoopey and weird of the cat. I never did understand that. Think about it. Cat. Self-explanatory. That says it all. And then bulldog. Everybody knows what that means. And one thing it doesn’t mean is friendship with cats.

Me:        And still, there it was. Who else did Snoopey ever allow into her crate with her?

Stella:    That’s easy. Nobody, because nobody else would fit in there with her. We are all bulldogs, remember?

Me:        I never forget. Okay, who else other than the cat did Snoopey ever have a full-blown conversation with?

Stella:    You.

Me:        Yeah. That’s true. Not that we understood each other well, but we did talk. A lot.

Stella:    So you don’t mind that Moon the Cat is climbing onto your lap all the time. It’s fine with you.

Me:        It’s all right. I understand why.

Stella:    It’s not all right with me! It’s really ticking me off!

Me:        Maybe you could consider becoming her new best friend.

Stella:    Lady Human! I’m surprised at you! What ugly talk!  I just want things to go back to normal, when bulldogs were bulldogs and Moon the Cat was her old arrogant, stand-offish, snooty self.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

The Gifts of Secret Friends – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges and…

Me:        I have an announcement and some questions.

Stella:    Typical.

Me:        For the cat.

Stella:    You are asking a cat questions? Total waste of time. If I were you, Lady Human, I would start with the announcement.

Me:        This morning at breakfast…

Stella:    Yes, breakfast was incredibly slow this morning.

Me:        Thank you for noticing, Stella. The reason for the delay is that someone had cut a slit into the new bag of dog food and I had to deal with the literal fallout.

Stella:    TALL MAN! Blame him! He’s not here!

Me:        No, this bag weighs 50 pounds. Tall Man would not have cut the bag in the center. He would have opened it from the top and, if he needed to cut it, he would have used a knife which would have made a neat, clean cut. This cut was only a few inches long and slightly jagged.

Stella:    Don’t look at me.

Me:        I’m not. There were a number of pokes on the bag, from something small and sharp. Like something kept hitting it. I suspect you, Moon the Cat.

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Stella:    J’accuse!

Me:        Wait! What?

Stella:    I heard it on the Picture Box. It’s a human word for when you want to yell at somebody.

Me:        I see. Well, Moon, did you cut the dogfood bag open with your claws?

Moon:  Meow.

Stella:    You see. I told you. Typical. Cats won’t answer a straight question with a straight answer.

Me:        She could be saying, ‘Yes’. My understanding of cat is not that good.

Stella:    Why in the world would she open the bag? She doesn’t eat that food. And a good thing for her, too!

Me:        You saw where the bag was.

Stella:    On the floor by Snoopey’s crate.

Me:        And I had noticed a great interest by the bulldogs, except for you, right by Snoopey’s crate the past few days.

Stella:    Sneaky little cat! She opened it for her secret friend, Snoopey! That means…that makes…Aaaaghh! Snoopey is a traitor to bulldogs everywhere!

Me:        She may not have chosen this friend. This friend may have chosen her.

Stella:    A cat? I refuse to believe it. That cat wants something. Why else the bribe? Admit it, Moon! You are trying to get bulldog favor, buying it with the best of all bulldog bribes – food! What have you to say for yourself?

Moon the Cat:   Meow.

Stella:    Typical!

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.