Watch Out! What’s That Up Ahead?

Posted on by H.J. Hill

The warm weather arrived just prior to the annual air conditioning launch. We turned the ceiling fans up to maximum, but even without cooking or baking inside the house, it wasn’t quite enough. Oh, we and the cat and the heat-sensitive bulldogs were going to live all right. Our ideal comfort level eluded us though.

We gathered the portable fans from their various locations around the house, plugged them in, turned them on high, and let them buzz their mechanical hearts out. The dogs accepted the stirred air graciously and settled down, tongues back in mouths.

The fans twirled all night and still ran strong when the cooler morning came. Nobody appeared disturbed by their presence until Tiger had to go out. She darted past me as she usually does. She has “grown up”, matured during the past few weeks. Gone are her incessant attempts to feud with Snoopey over who’s in charge of the pack. I’m not saying that is over and done with, simply that Tiger has cooled her efforts in that direction for the time being.

Tiger came back in the house and scooted past her crate, running her nose over the floor in case she had missed any food crumbs from her breakfast. When I asked her to go into her crate so I could run my errands, she backed away and glanced at the odd little round thing nearby. One of the fans, happily whirring at full blast, aimed its current of air across that side of the room.

The bulldogs are always sensitive to oddities and new items that suddenly appear in their paths. I realized right away what Tiger was trying to avoid.

I thought for a moment about moving it farther away, but I opted for an exercise in trust – her trust in me.

I called her. She hesitated and stayed back. I extended my hand. Still she waited and refused to pass the fan. I stepped forward until I could reach her and I stroked her head and neck, telling her the whole time that everything was all right and that she was safe with me. She walked a few steps toward me and the crate. She stopped alongside the vicious fan and let me pet her.

And just like that, the fan was no longer a problem. It never really had been, but Tiger didn’t realize that. She took a step of faith in me and finally trusted me enough to let me help her past her fear.

I should know better than Tiger. I don’t.

I cringe and pull back when there is something strange in my path. I am supposed to trust God to walk me past it, but I don’t. I hesitate, hold back, delay, wonder, and try to figure it out myself. And then, eventually, I take one step toward Him and His hand is there. He was there the whole time.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4 KJV

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

I Demand to Speak to a Manager – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Stella, our opinionated Olde English Bulldogge, has a complaint she wishes to air. So let’s begin the conversation:

Me:        Hi, Stella! What’s the problem?

Stella:   Are you the one in command here? Because I only want to talk to the one in command.

Me:        Well, no bulldog, or cat for that matter, is in command that’s for sure. And “command” is not the best word. This is our home. It is not the army. The humans are in charge here. Why would you doubt that?

Stella:   Because first Snoopey and then Tiger each told me that they are in command. And because Wiggles is always disobeying and doing whatever she wants and she gets by with it because “she is so sweet” and “the sweetest dog ever”. Yuck! What gushy nonsense! Humans are supposed to be smart. How can you fall for that act?

Me:        Wiggles is super sweet. She dances in her comma shape and only wants head pets and neck rubs and the occasional treat.

Stella:   Aagghh! The occasional treat! I think you’ve lost count. But really, IS ANYONE IN CHARGE HERE?

Me:        We humans are. Why?

Stella:   Everything is so chaotic. Nobody is listening. Nobody obeys the rules.

Me:        Nobody? Not even you?

Stella:   Me? Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. What was the question?

Me:        You want to know if anyone is in charge. You say that no one obeys the rules. Do you obey the rules?

Stella:   Me? Yes. Well, sometimes. Hmmm. I’m not really clear on what the rules are.

Me:        How about one rule? Is there a rule against chasing the cat?

Stella:   And that’s all the time we have for our conversation today, people…

Me:        Nope. We have plenty of time.

Stella:   But I don’t like that no-cat-chasing rule.

Me:        Not the point.

Stella:   Awwww!

Me:        I understand. Humans have rules set for us, too, and some of them I flat don’t like.

Stella:   So you ignore them.

Me:        No. If they are silly or useless, I may try to get them changed. But some rules are set by God and wisdom tells me that they are good and for my safety and they won’t change. God is God and I am not.

Stella:   Is the no-cat-chasing rule one of God’s rules?

Me:        I wish I could say it is, but no. It’s one of our rules.

Stella:   So about these changeable rules, how do I go about working on that?

Me:        Write your legislator, but I don’t think you’ll get far with that. Bulldogs can’t vote.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J.Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Four-Legged Bowling Balls

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I don’t count myself as the most graceful person on two legs. Clumsy is a more accurate description for me. Yet most of the time I can stay upright and move along at a reasonable clip. There was one instance when I tripped over my own feet on slightly uneven pavement and took a nosedive – literally. (My nose became well acquainted with the asphalt in a parking lot. My DNA is likely still there.)

Having bulldogs around has reinforced the need for me to keep my feet firmly set on the ground.

I have described the dogs as barrel racers, as two feet long by 18 inch tall Sherman tanks, and now I think of them as four-legged bowling balls. They don’t make quite the same noise as a bowling ball picking up speed down a lane, but if I get in their way when they are running, my legs become bowling pins and, well, you can picture the rest.

All in all, the bulldogs have made me more nimble on my feet. I don’t always hear their galloping up on me from behind. All of a sudden, a head brushes my leg as a bulldog barrels past, my leg buckles at the knee, and I struggle to stay upright. The excited dog has no idea how close I came to collapse.

After all, they have four legs; I have two. Dogs can count. They just don’t put two and two together. Four feet on the ground are a distinct advantage for balance.

Also, our bulldogs have no concept of a passing lane. Hey, y’all, there is plenty of room to run around me. You don’t have to touch me or come so close.

So what is this new lesson from bulldogs?

Keep an eye on what may be rushing up on you from behind.

Not everybody is going to be looking out for your safety so DRIVE FRIENDLY!

Keep your balance even if someone else tries to take your feet out from under you.

Hop around on one leg until you can get two (or more) back on the ground. If you                     can’t get two back on the ground, just keep going on one.

Be flexible. Be Flexible!  BE FLEXIBLE!

The ground is always there to catch you. So is God.

“For Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.”           (Psalm 116:8 KJV)

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved

 

 

Stella’s Blog – Hello, Cat! Where Are You?

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello. I am Stella. I am an Olde English Bulldogge. In fact, I am their Queen. No one elected me. No committee selected me. I selected me.

It was hard sitting around the first two years of my life while no human understood who I really am. During that time, I was not accorded the honors due me as Queen. That was not the fault of my old humans per se. They were ignorant. I wasn’t wearing a crown.

When I came to my new home with my new humans, I made my status clear from the beginning. Once, Tall Man invited me to stay in a dome-shaped house in the backyard. Are you kidding me? There was no television. There was no cat to chase. Did that really look like the palace of a queen? I put on my best “We are not amused” sad face and succeeded in putting a quick end to that nonsense. Tall Man brought back into my main house right away.

I am Queen Stella. Treat me like a queen and give me treats and we will get along fine. Let me say it again. Give me treats!

I have been blogging more lately because I have a lot to say. Humans never stop talking so I figure neither should I. Bulldogs do not exercise their free speech rights often enough.

Anyone who has been around us for long has seen it. Other dogs are barking and the good old bulldog is just sitting there, slump shouldered, panting, maybe burping a little bit (it happens), but otherwise quiet, not saying anything. Every once in a while, we might blow out a lip ruffle simply to let the humans know that we don’t approve of what’s going on. We disapprove of much so the classic bulldog lip ruffle comes in handy.

Which leads me to my List of Offenders which has only two names on it this time:

Lady Human and Moon the Cat

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Lady Human disagrees with me and says humans do not belong on the List of Offenders and I say oh, yes, they do! This time Lady Human seems to be in cahoots with Moon the Cat. I have been looking for the cat in order to chase her and I can’t ever seem to find her. When I ask Lady Human where she is, Lady just smiles and says, “Oh, she’s around.” And then she adds something ridiculous like, “You shouldn’t chase the cat.”

Oh, yes, I should! Do you know what Moon the Cat was doing the past few days? She walked up to each of us bulldogs DURING NAPTIME and meowed right in our faces. Incredibly rude! And I hear new noises sometimes coming from above my head, coming from places I can’t see because I’m not tall enough (bulldog, remember?). I suspect that Moon has new high perches to hide on and spy down on us.

Lady Human thinks it’s funny now, but how funny will it be when the cat pounces down on her from the new high spot. And why does a cat have a perch anyway? She’s not a bird!

But no one listens to me. [deep bulldog sigh] I am only the Queen.

Signed, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Stella’s Blog – Be Nice!

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello! I have returned to my blog to give you my insight, the wisdom of an Olde English Bulldogge, and please understand that Olde English Bulldogge is my official breed and has nothing to do with my age or nationality. I don’t really know what “nationality” means. I will ask about that another time.

Anyway, my transcriptionist (a.k.a. Lady Human – yes, I am still employing her. I wish I could get someone better, but no one else will work for a dog for free) – she tells me that I am not being NICE to the other dogs or to the cat and that I should try harder to be NICE.

NICE is a human word that does not translate well into dog languages. I am attempting to understand what I am supposed to do, what NICE is, but the best I can grasp to this point from the humans is that NICE means:

“soft”

“no barking”

“no biting”

“no pooping or peeing inside the human house”

“no whining”

“tastes good”

“feels good”

“smells good”

“fits well”

And about a million other things that humans think are important. (No, I do not know how many a million is, but I gather that it is a bunch, like more than all the treats in the world. So I would not mind having a million NICE treats.)

I don’t think that I can be NICE. It is too big a burden for one dog, especially a bulldog.

Soft? My face is smooshy soft, but how does that help the other dogs or Moon the cat.

No barking? That’s simply unreasonable. I AM A DOG! Besides which, THEY STARTED IT!

No biting? Look at my face with that big under bite. I was born to bite. And besides, I have never bitten any human or animal (not that there weren’t a few who deserved it. Just my opinion.) So technically, I am already NICE in this category.

No pooping or peeing inside the human house? But what if I NEED to.  What if it’s NICE for me?

No whining? Awwwww!

Tastes good? Nobody better go taste on me, I tell you what!

Feels good? That’s all right. I am NICE in that category. You can pet me all you want and then some.

Smells good? I admit it. Sometimes I make odors that are not pleasant, even to me, but if I have to be NICE and not make bad smells, then so do the others! How about some NICE smells for me?

Fits well? I can’t help the shape I am. I am a bulldog and there are lots of places that I don’t fit. Like on the floor of that little car we take camping. I tried to fit myself there, but the back seat was much more accommodating. And it is true, I am not a lap dog, but I am still trying. The humans’ laps have just got to get bigger.

The humans are going to have to come up with stuff I can do, stuff that’s not NICE.

Signed,  Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

Conversations with Stella – Language Barrier

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I’ll jump right into my conversation with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, with a question:

Me:        Stella, what in the world did you say to Wiggles that got her so wound up and freaked out?

Stella:   You know Wiggles. You don’t have to say much to her to freak her out.

Me:        But she was more agitated than I have ever seen her. I really want to understand how you all communicate with each other. You weren’t even talking at first…if that whiny weird bulldog type raw raw rah noise can be called ‘talking’…

Stella:   How insulting! Of course, it’s talking!

Me:        I’m never sure.

Stella:   What else would it be?

Me:        High pitched yawning. Low pitched burping.

Stella:   No, those are different. Allow me to demonstrate…

Me:        That’s okay. Not right now. What I witnessed between you two was, first, you calling her over to your crate and Wiggles responding.

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Stella:   Wiggles always does what I say.

Me:        We’ll get into that later. Wiggles was relaxed and then you two shared a silent, nose to nose conversation, no noises, just staring at each other, and Wiggles completely changed. She stood up straight. She hopped around Stella style…

Stella:   Thank you for naming that particular movement after me. I did invent it.

Me:        While I doubt that, calling it the Stella Hop is the easiest way for me to refer to it. Back to the point, you then verbally aimed Wiggles at the cat. What did you say to Wiggles that transformed her in an instant from a laid back, cat-friendly bulldog to a bulging-eyed bundle of nerves?

Stella:   Simple. I said, “Are you a bulldog or a cat? If you’re a bulldog, start acting like one! Now, go chase that cat off the piano!” And that’s when you interfered.

Me:        I am a human. What I do is correction, not interference.

Stella:   Well, it interfered with my plan.

Me:        I calmed her down, that’s all. I just wish I could understand what you all are saying, but the sounds make no sense to me.

Stella:   And you believe humans make sense. You never stop barking. Sit! Come! Go! No! By the way, are those two the same word, just with a different accent? And even after we do what we think you want us to do, you keep barking. It is all so confusing.

Me:        Sort of the way Wiggles was confused when you told her to chase the cat and she didn’t want to or understand why.

Stella:   No, that’s completely different. I can see that we still have a language barrier.

Me:        At least we’re working on it.

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Stella:   Humph! Stupid cat! Why can’t she act more like a bulldog? We outnumber her. You can hear us coming. She pads around on those silly soft feet and all of a sudden, WHOA! She’s right behind you. Hey, did you see where she sneaked into your room and knocked over some of your stuff?

Me:        Yes.

Stella:   You’ll never catch a bulldog knocking your stuff over or…oh…well, never mind.

 

“There are, it may be, so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is without signification.”

(1 Corinthians 14:10 KJV)

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hey! Stop Bossing Me Around!

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Only one word described the weather – wet. Excuse me. Let me make that clearer. WET!!!! The bulldogs were bored and their boredom fixated on the cat. Nobody wanted to go outside in all that water and we were taking advantage of pauses in the rain to encourage potty breaks.

Stella usually likes her bed. Again let me make that clearer. Stella LOVES her bed! And with all the down time due to the incessant bad weather, she had been a little cat-centric so she was chilling in her crate. Wiggles had just come back in from outside and was strolling around. Moon the Cat crossed the room and Wiggles trotted behind her for about three paces, then lost interest. The cat assumed her exalted position on top of the piano in serene splendor.

Well, that popped Stella’s cork.

She started whining and escalated to barking, but not at me. She barked to grab Wiggles’ attention and Wiggles ran to her side. Stella proceeded to read Wiggles the bulldog version of the Riot Act, face to face, muzzle to muzzle, nose to nose.

Sweet, calm, “I get along with everybody” Wiggles.

I don’t know what Stella said to Wiggles. I am not fluent in bulldoggese. But whatever it was, it changed Wiggles’ mind and attitude in a heartbeat.

Imagine the scene where a boss screams in the face of an employee for doing or failing to do something that the employee had no idea about, had never thought of, and didn’t even know could be done.

Within seconds, Wiggles jumped to attention, her ears sprang to the top of her head, and she did what I have never seen her do before. She performed a Stella Hop.

A Stella Hop is a sharp, quick jump left or right at about a 90 degree angle an inch or two off the ground with both front legs stiff and locked. She hopped left to face me. She hopped back to the right to face Stella and then repeated the maneuver. It is a high excitement, high energy move for a bulldog, and would be endlessly hilarious if it weren’t so obvious that the dog’s real response is confusion. I imagine that it sounds something like this inside their heads: Help me! Help me! Something is going on and I don’t know what to do. Tell me; please tell me what to do.

Wiggles’ eyes widened, round and bulging. She looked at me for help. Stella had flipped a switch inside her, but Wiggles had no idea what to do. I knew what Stella wanted because I was watching Stella’s gaze toward the piano. She wanted that cat to be chased and no one was accommodating her.

Poor Wiggles did a side take like a cartoon character rushing out of a room, but I called her back. She sat at my feet and I started the calm down process, stroking her head and repeating her name in a low voice. She melted and the real Wiggles showed back up in her face. She leaned her head into my hand and didn’t even seem to care anymore about Stella’s whiny fussing or Tiger’s barky contribution. (Tiger is an experienced cat chase instigator. She doesn’t chase the cat herself. Oh, no, she just gets the others stirred up into doing it.)

And the whole time, Moon the Cat sat on her piano throne from which she could survey her realm, like the true queen of the house.

I would so much like to be able to speak to Wiggles in a way she could understand and tell her not to give in to the bossy voices in the world. There is no shortage of them and being loud and demanding does not make them right. Wiggles, stop listening to the highest volume mouth in the room.

And once again, just like that, I have learned a life lesson from a dog.

 

©2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Conversations with Stella – Peace Talks, Part 2

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Here we are – again. With me is Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge and today we will attempt to stay on topic:

What the Freak Can We Do to Bring Peace Back into Our House?

Stella:    We talked about that yesterday.

Me:        Only briefly. Mostly we got stuck on the subject of giant insects.

Stella:    I am totally opposed to peace talks with giant insects. No peace talks with them, not now, not ever.

Me:        I apologize for Stella. Once she gets an idea in her head, in true bulldog fashion, she doesn’t let go. Back to topic, how do we resolve the conflict between Tiger and Snoopey and between the bulldogs and Moon the cat?

Stella:    As I said before, get rid of the other dogs.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Get rid of the cat.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    You and I go away on a long trip by ourselves and let them work things out.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Not camping. An air-conditioned hotel, long walks on the beach, treats, that sort of thing.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Tall Man can take care of the others. He won’t mind.

Me:        Not the point.

Stella:    You are right. Short walks on the beach. I don’t like long walks.

Me:        Again, not the point. Look, is it possible for you to talk to Tiger about the Snoopey issue, dog to dog?

Stella:    Teenagers don’t listen. Ask again in a few months. Tiger is all “I know everything. Don’t tell me what to do. Is it hot to you all in here? I feel like running. Watch me jump.” Listening is not strong with that one.

Me:        A short term solution then?

Stella:    Do what you tried this morning. Offer her a treat every time she comes inside and you want her to ignore Snoopey. It worked.

Me:        Oh, you saw that? I thought you were asleep.

Stella:    You had a treat in your hand. I can never be too soundly asleep to miss the scent of a treat floating around. Only when you do that with Tiger, give me a treat at the same time, just to keep the peace.

Me:        Hah! Just you? What about the others?

Stella:    They can make their own deals.

Me:        Treats are supposed to be earned.

Stella:    I earn a treat by my silence. You don’t know how hard it is to keep myself from barking at Tiger when she is acting like a jerk. And Tiger earns her treat when she comes in and doesn’t pick a fight with Snoopey. You don’t know how hard it is for Tiger not to act like a jerk.

Me:        And the cat chasing? How do we stop that?

Stella:    Why would we stop that?

Me:        Because it is loud, disruptive, and disorderly.

Stella:    And loads of fun and excitement. We’re running. And the cat’s running. And we’re jumping up on the furniture and knocking stuff over and the cat is on top of stuff and under stuff and behind stuff and everybody’s barking like mad…oh, I see.

Me:        We’ll keep talking about that. And your idea about a vacation is not a bad one. Maybe we can do that sometime.

Stella:    Only we have to go to a place where there are no giant insects!

Me:        That shouldn’t be too hard to find.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

The Secret Treaties of Dogs and Cats

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I walked up on Tiger the Olde English Bulldogge and Moon the Siamese-mix Cat having a eyeball-to-eyeball negotiation in complete silence. A few seconds later, Tiger ran over to where Snoopey was napping in her crate, minding her own business, and picked a fight.

It got loud and it got tense, but at least they couldn’t reach each other. Of course, Stella had to put her two cents into the jukebox, and the noise grew louder…I think. By then, I couldn’t hear my own thoughts so maybe I just imagined that.

I think Moon made a truce with Tiger, a peace treaty of the dog/cat sort.

I, Tiger, agree that I will not chase Moon the Cat. I further agree that I will stir up trouble with the bulldog known as Snoopey instead of siccing the bulldog known as Stella on Moon the Cat.

Game changer. A new alliance has entered the Bulldoggy Nation. What else did that eye-to-eye conversation between Tiger and Moon and the subsequent events signify?

The situation between Tiger and Snoopey had relaxed. Days had been calmer. Nights had been quieter. Not perfect, just better. But Tiger remains an adolescent – a lot of excitement, little wisdom.

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I have always suspected that Tiger and Moon are secretly in league with each other. In fact, I believe they are friends. Too many times have I opened the den door in the middle of the night to find Moon sitting right by an alert but tranquil Tiger. On top of that, Tiger NEVER chases Moon. She always gets someone else to do it, usually Stella because Stella is gullible. Wiggles and Snoopey just ignore Tiger’s grumbling and pointing.

So what was Moon’s part of the bargain?

I, the feline known as Moon the Cat (yuck – that was the best the humans could do?) agree to nothing. I will merely be myself. I will not to chase bulldogs because that is not what I do.

So what understanding do I gain from watching these animals live as imperfect neighbors?

That traditional enmities are not always graven in stone? Maybe.

Never trust a cat? The jury is still out on that one.

That cats are better negotiators than dogs? After all, Tiger and Snoopey have not                     been able to work out their differences.

That “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” is a commandment, not just a good idea. (Matthew 22:39; Leviticus 19:18 KJV). Yes. Amen.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Stella’s Blog #4 – What is a Campout? Hey, Why Are We Outside?

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Lady Human put me in her car one day along with a bunch of interesting smelling stuff, a bag of treats, and several small bags of food. I was so excited because none of the others were coming, just me. And that’s as it should be. I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. No other bulldogs need apply.

We rode for a long time and when we stopped, we walked into a wide space surrounded by trees. What kind of a place was this? We were in someone else’s backyard. We could have stayed in ours. Ours has a fence. Here just anyone could walk up. There was no fence and no house to go into when it got dark or if it started to rain. She kept saying “campout”. I wanted her to stop. That word had an ugly sound like it had something to do with being outside. No. No. No. Inside dog. That’s me.

I took advantage of being outdoors to pee, but instead of leaving, Lady Human spread something on the ground and used long, thin, bendy sticks to raise it up. A tiny cloth house! Cool! That’s where I am sleeping tonight! I told her. Don’t get any ideas about me sleeping out in some stranger’s unfenced backyard. Why did we come here anyway?

Humans are strange creatures. But not as strange as cats.

The tiny cloth house was more comfortable than I imagined it would be. It had my portable crate and my regular bed and Lady Human had brought along my toys. She had a long soft pad that opened up and she could crawl into it. During the night, I left my crate and crawled into it, too. She acted as though there wasn’t enough room, but I pushed and pushed until I proved her wrong.

When daylight came back, we went to a building where Lady Human spoke her odd language with another human and all of a sudden we got into a little car that had no walls. My crate was not in it. Was it safe? My lady seemed to think so. She was not wearing a leash across her middle. She was turning the round toy that made the little car go one way and then another. Scary. She wanted me to sit beside her on the seat. I opted for the floor, thank you very much. It was closer to the ground.

We rode around in the weird little car for a while. There were huge creatures with long faces and very long pointy sticks coming out of the sides of their heads. They stared at us and chewed grass. A little grass now and then is fine, but these beasts made a meal out of it. Their stomachs must have really been upset. They looked angry. I am not happy when my stomach is upset either. I wished my lady would make the rolling car crate go faster. What if they had decided to throw up?

We ate outside. We slept in the tiny cloth house again. Then we ate outside. When it was dark, Lady Human spent a long time sitting in a chair, looking up into the black sky. She kept saying something about “moon”, but Moon the cat was not with us so I don’t know what that was about and I was tired, so I went to bed. Lady Human’s long pad was perfect. She would just have to sleep somewhere else.

Then we got into the real car with all the stuff including the tiny cloth house and we came home. Real home. Everything was the way we had left it. Which causes me to ask again – why were we outside?

 

©2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Are You Related to Me? Really?

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Hello, I am Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge. I am back. Apparently, when I do not blog, my transcriptionist, the Lady Human, does, so you get her point of view and that may not be entirely accurate. I am not saying that she or any human lies, but they see things differently than dogs do and, if I had to choose between a human and a dog, I would trust a dog. Well, not all dogs. Not Tiger. And probably not Snoopey most days. Okay, let me just say that between a human and a dog, I would trust me.

Allow me to explain my frustration. First, here is my current list of offenders, from most serious to least:

  1. TIGER – yes, still. TIGER! TIGER! Please grow up! I don’t remember acting like you are when I was your age. You may be a teenager, but could you speed it up a little? She is still constantly challenging Snoopey for supremacy. Snoopey’s new tactic is to ignore her, well, about half the time. Lady Human is now bribing Tiger with a treat when she comes in from outside so that she will calm down and not try to fight Snoopey. It’s a good ploy and may be working. Treats are good anytime and I do not object on principal to using them as a bribe. Anything to get a treat. I just don’t want Tiger thinking that she deserves them.
  1. SNOOPEY – She still reacts to Tiger, only a little less now. And she got a new bed that she did not deserve at all. Why? At least mine is prettier.
  1. WIGGLES – She is calm and friendly as usual. But she has become obstinate all of a sudden and will not go right into her crate when the humans have to leave to go to their mysterious places. So she has to be coaxed in and once again Lady Human bribes her with a treat which she in no way merits. (Lady Human gives the rest of us treats at the same time, but that’s beside the point.)
  1. ME – Yes, I am the least offensive this time, least offensive to me anyway. Lady Human seemed annoyed when I was telling Tiger off. I was just trying to help. Maybe I did go on a little too long. And loud. The humans do not yet understand my dialect so they probably didn’t understand that I was lecturing Tiger on good behavior. The humans need to work on their language skills.

I expect more from my family members. Snoopey is my sister. Wiggles is my half-sister. Tiger is my niece. Have you ever heard of humans having trouble with their family members? I think not. What? Wait, my transcriptionist is saying something. Oh…well, that is something to think about.

Signed,

Stella the Queen of the Bulldogges

 

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