Olde English Bulldogge – Page 4

Christmas Rant – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 20, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, beg everyone’s pardon. Apparently, Lady Human has something that she wishes to say. Proceed, Lady Human.

Me: I’ve had it. This is my rant. It is long overdue. Here it comes! I HATE CHRISTMAS! No, that’s not true. I like Christmas. I hate what we’ve done to it. I hate the stupidity of how we celebrate and how I have allowed it to affect me.

Stella: Rant! Rant! Rant! Rant! I love rants! Go on.

Me: I was stuck at an intersection because all these silly people decided that they had to get their cars washed on the last Saturday before Christmas Eve. REALLY? And on a day when the temperature was expected to drop 52 degrees. From 73 degrees, down to 19 degrees. Who does that? I mean REALLY! WHO DOES THAT? The whole intersection was blocked and the silly woman in front of me – all right, maybe she wasn’t a silly woman, maybe she was just confused, but it was silly that she wouldn’t move at all and REALLY? Did she think that the situation was going to change? DECIDE! MOVE IN A DIRECTION! ANY DIRECTION! LOOK! YOU JUST LOST ANOTHER GREEN LIGHT! WHAT DOES THAT MAKE? FIVE?

Stella: Was it five? I can count to five. One, two, three, four, five…that’s a lot. This is so exciting! What happened then?

Me: Then, she finally moved. And I got out of the intersection, too. I was so stupid to go out in holiday traffic.

Stella: Stupid. Yes. Yes, you were. So human of you.

Me: And I called her an ugly name. She couldn’t hear me, but that didn’t matter. Not Christian of me. Not Christmasy.

Stella: I love ugly names! I have a secret, ugly name for each of the bulldogs. Someday, I may share them with you, but you can’t tell the others. Rant on!

Me: My patience level should have been higher. My attitude should have been better. I was naughty, not nice.

Stella: Oh, Lady Human, did you fall off the list of that fat, bearded man in the red suit? Wait, is this still a rant? Because it doesn’t sound very ranty anymore.

Me: I’m just mad at myself for acting up, for having a bad attitude, being selfish, and impatient.

Stella: Boy, Lady Human, you really were naughty. You should fall off that nice list. You have me tired simply hearing about it. Nap time! We’ll rant more later.

Blue Norther = Blue Nose – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 17, 2016December 16, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges and I am not happy. I just thought everyone should know. Why should I keep my misery to myself?

Me: What misery are we talking about this time?

Stella: Haven’t you noticed? Don’t you feel it?

Me: Well, if you’re talking about the weather…

Stella: Those boxes that Tall Man put in the windows have frozen everything including my feet. They must be turned off immediately. Once upon a time a few hours ago, the air was fine. Now your boxes are forming icicles on my eyelashes.

Me: First, those boxes are air conditioner window units and they are not on. They haven’t been for some weeks. Secondly, the air conditioners cool the air inside the house, not outside. What you are experiencing is a Blue Norther, a strong cold front that just roared in.

Stella: Feel my toes. If I could guess a color, I would say they are blue. See what your Blue Norther has done.

Me: It’s not my Blue Norther. It’s a weather front. I’m cold, too, so the sooner you get business done out here, the sooner we can get back inside.

Stella: Oh, no! Something terrible is happening in my nose. When I breathe, smoke comes out! Smoke! My nose is on fire and freezing at the same time! Look! A big cloudy puff and it came right out of my bulldoggy nose. Lady Human, this is an emergency! Do something!

Me: Stella, you do something and we can go back inside. And that is not smoke coming out of your nose. It’s the moisture in your breath condensing in the cold air.

Stella: Make it stop!

Me: If you think it’s cold now, wait until morning. The temperature is supposed to drop another 17 degrees or so.

Stella: And you expect me to go the bathroom out here in a frozen wasteland! What if EVERYTHING freezes! Noooo!

Me: I don’t think things work that way.

Stella: If Tall Man can install cold air boxes in the windows, he can install a warm air bulldog bathroom inside. Make that two. I need my privacy. The others can share. I am Queen. I hereby decree it. Have the plans on my desk tomorrow.

Me: Your desk? You have a desk?

Stella: I’ll take the one in the front room. Every queen needs a desk. And a crown, remember?

Do What the Ancient Romans Do – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 15, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella. I am an Olde English Bulldogge. I am a Queen. I am Illustrious. I am Noble. And my Lady Human is looking at me weird which means she has a question on her head.

Me: In my head, not on it.

Stella: Uh-oh. How will you get it out?

Me: I will ask it.

Stella: So questions come from the mouth part of your head.

Me: Questions form in my mind and then my brain communicates them through my mouth.

Stella: I don’t have that problem. All the parts of my head work together at the same time. It’s one big head. What question does your mouth want to ask?

Me: I’ve been noticing that you hardly ever stand up when you eat. You lie down next to your bowl and grab a mouthful every now and then.

Stella: It’s the best way. I’ve seen you do it yourself except you balance your bowl on your stomach. That’s hard for a bulldog. Round belly. No hands. Besides, it is easier to watch the Picture Box.

Me: Your reclining reminded me of the Ancient Romans. They reclined on couches when they ate.

Stella: Ancient Romans. Are they bulldogs?

Me: No, they were humans who lived a long, long time ago.

Stella: That’s not nearly so cool. Humans are boring.

Me: It was probably only the rich and the Caesars who did that.

Stella: See-sars. Like those things at the park that go up and down?

Me: No. Caesars were leaders, more like…

Stella: QUEENS!

Me: Uh-oh. Well, kings. Never mind. Forget I said anything. I’m sorry I brought it up.

Stella: I am eating like ancient Roman queens. I knew it ran in the family.

Bulldog Thinking – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 13, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Shhhh! Everybody be quiet! I am Stella, Queen of the Illustrious Olde English Bulldogges. I think Lady Human is asleep. I know what sleeping looks like because bulldogs sleep a lot. Just about any time, I can look around and see a bulldog snoozing and snoring. We are famous for it.

Me: I’m not asleep.

Stella: Shhhh! Go back to sleep, Lady Human.

Me: I can’t go back to sleep because I was not asleep.

Stella: Were you trying to fool me?

Me: No, I was thinking with my eyes closed.

Stella: Thinking about what?

Me: Stuff. Nothing. Everything.

Stella: That’s a lot. No wonder you closed your eyes. Why so much thinking?

Me: Humans overthink everything. Thinking is how we spend most of our time.

Stella: Then why aren’t things way better?

Me: Just because someone has a thought doesn’t mean it is an intelligent thought. Or useful. Or helpful. Or any good.

Stella: Is that more of that overthinking?

Me: Maybe.

Stella: Bulldogs don’t have that problem. We don’t overthink anything. We think about food. And treats which are also food. And what food tastes like. And how food feels in our stomachs. And what food smells like. And what food looks like. And when we will see food again. But we don’t overthink anything so I guess we are better off than humans.

Me: Stella, I am tired of thinking about all of it.

Stella: Then go back to sleep, Lady Human. No more thinking. Night. Night. We will do the thinking for you.

Me: Uh-oh.

Driver’s Seat for Drivers Only – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 12, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Stella, of the Olde English Bulldogges, Queen, enjoyed an illustrious lunch from my friends at The Bomb Fried Pies. Lady Human drove me to their trailer where they shared with me fried baloney, the best of all kinds of baloney, certainly better than what the humans call ‘a bunch of baloney’ which, from what I can tell, is just a lot of silly human talk and has nothing to do with meat at all.

It would have been an illustrious day had it not been for what happened when we got back to the Little Rolling Box on Wheels.

Me: I thought the whole day was fairly routine.

Stella: You don’t even remember the insult, do you?

Me: Nobody insulted you. That one gentleman pointed out how pretty you are and the Fried Pie ladies were happy to see you.

Stella: Not them, Lady Human. Your insult!

Me: Oh, great, what did I do?

Stella: It hurts my feelings to think about it. And you don’t even remember.

Me: If this goes on much longer, Stella, I am going to take a nap like the others. Wait. Is this about when you climbed into the driver’s seat before I could jump into the car?

Stella: Hmmmpph! You wouldn’t let me sit there.

Me: That was no insult. That was common sense. You weigh 51 pounds.

Stella: Are you calling me fat?

Me: No, you are perfect, but you barely fit by yourself in the passenger seat as it is. There is no way you and I both can sit in the driver’s seat.

Stella: How much do you weigh? Maybe you’re the problem.

Me: Not the issue. You are not allowed to ride in the driver’s seat. It’s not safe. It’s not comfortable. On top of that, the wind was cold and I was standing outside my own car, arguing with a bulldog who would not get out of my seat.

Stella: ‘Move over! Move over!’ That was no argument. That was just plain rude.

Me: I had asked politely the first 5 times. I finally had to sit down sideways on the edge of the driver’s seat and inch backward until you gave in.

Stella: I had to give in. You were sucking up all the space. The whole affair almost made me sorry that we went to get the fried baloney. Almost…Just you wait until I grow up and get my own car.

Me: I don’t believe that will happen.

Stella: Why not?

Me: Your insurance rates would be too high.

Stella: Oh. All right then. You have my permission to keep driving me to get fried baloney. I still say the driver’s seat is mine.

Me: You may have a point, Stella.

Bulldog Priorities – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 9, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Hello! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, Illustrious and Noble and still crown-less. And might I add Stella the Cat Catcher. All I can say is OW!

Me: And you can’t say I didn’t warn you.

Stella: You didn’t tell me that cat claws hurt.

Me: Did you think that they were purely decorative? I warned you not to chase Moon the Cat. You chose to do that instead of getting petted. What was that about?

Stella: First things first. Cat chasing, then pets and rubs and scratching. Human scratching does not hurt. Why do cat claws hurt?

Me: Cat claws are functional weapons for defense and, if necessary, for catching food and establishing territorial boundaries. My fingernails, not so much. I told you…

Stella: I know. I know. Don’t chase the cat.

Me: She could have done a lot worse to you. You have a tiny blood pinprick on your nose and one on your muzzle.

Stella: Ow. It doesn’t hurt so much now. Did she mess up my beautiful face?

Me: Not at all. By tomorrow, no one will be able to tell that it happened, not even you. You understand what your mistake was, don’t you? The other bulldogs chase the cat and never have gotten swiped by her. You don’t just chase her; you insist on catching her.

Stella: I never hurt her. I never bite. I just drool on her a little.

Me: You could pull back at the last second and do a stare down the way the others do. But Noooo…not Stella the Cat Catcher.

Stella: All right. All right. I am so embarrassed. For today only, my name is Stella the Cat-Scratched. Don’t say it in front of the others. It makes my ears cramp up just thinking about it. But tomorrow Stella the Cat Catcher will be back, bigger and bolder than ever. I know what I want for Christmas, Lady Human. A big scary mask and a helmet. CHARGE!

Me: And I can get Moon the Cat a pair of cat-sized boxing gloves. That might save a lot of trouble.

Bulldog Manners 101 – ‘Scuse Me Again – Conversation with the Pack

Posted on December 8, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Illustrious Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I hereby call bulldog class to order – again! This would not have been necessary if the bulldogs paid attention in our prior session. Instead, they decided to take naps.

Now hear this! No one naps during this course! If you do not intend to stay awake and pay attention for the whole class, there is no reason for you to be here.

Tiger: Okay. See you later.

Wiggles: I agree. Bye.

Snoopey: Sounds good to me. Class dismissed.

Miss Sweetie: What? What’s happening?

Doodlebug: We’re free! Run!

Stella: STOP! NOBODY MOVE! NOBODY FALL ASLEEP!

Wiggles: (snore)

Stella: Wiggles, wake up! Everybody, listen! We are going to learn manners so we can behave better around the humans!

Snoopey: I behave just fine, thank you.

Stella: Rule 1: Keep your feet on the floor. Never slap a human with your feet. That means you, Snoopey.

Wiggles: So Rule 1 is just for Snoopey? That means that I can slap any human I want to with my feet. Cool!

Stella: No, Wiggles, it applies to you, too.

Doodlebug: But it does not apply to…

Stella: Yes, Doodlebug, Rule 1 applies to you. It applies to everyone. So does Rule 2. Never cut in front of a human with your big, round bulldog body. You could trip them. They don’t like to be tripped. They only have a maximum of 2 legs, not 4, so it is harder for them to stop themselves from falling.

Miss Sweetie: Why don’t they just grow more legs?

Stella: Oh, Sweetie. That’s not how we are made. There is so much for you to learn.

Snoopey: Well, I don’t need to learn anything. Rule 1. Rule 2. Done and done.

Stella: Not so fast, Sister. Rule 3: When a human says ‘Scuse me, they are simply being polite. What they mean is ‘GET OUT OF MY WAY!’ If they can be polite to us, we can at least be polite to them.

Tiger: Blah, blah, blah. Tall Man likes it when I slap him with my paws and jump in front of him. He plays with me. If he starts to fall, I will catch him.

Stella: The humans have an expression about stuff like you just said. Baloney.

Tiger: What is baloney?

Stella: It is a wonderful, delicious form of meat.

Tiger: And I said baloney and it appears? Where is this baloney?

Stella: I haven’t figured that out yet, but the humans don’t put great store in it. We will have to keep looking for it. Very well. Enough for today. Does anyone remember the Rules of Bulldog Manners thus far?

Wiggles: No.

Tiger: I wasn’t listening.

Snoopey: I don’t care.

Doodlebug: Run! Play! Run! Play!

Miss Sweetie: Huh?

Stella: Fine! Class dismissed!

Snoopey: Finally! Not a moment too soon.

‘Scuse Me – Bulldog Manners 101 – Conversation with the Pack

Posted on December 7, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Illustrious Stella, Olde English Bulldogge Queen, hereby call bulldog class to order. Bulldogs, please listen to my illustrious instructions. Let us begin.

Wiggles: Mwaaah. Nap time.

Stella: No, Wiggles. Not nap time. Class time. Wiggles? Wiggles!

Wiggles: (snore)

Stella: Wiggles! Wake up! You need this class as much as anybody! Oh, never mind!

Snoopey: Why do we need a class on manners? I use perfect manners with the humans.

Stella: Oh, really, Sis? Like when you slap Lady Human on the leg with your oh-so-heavy paw after she has told you umpteen gillion times not to.

Snoopey: Umpteen gillion. You made that number up.

Tiger: I agree with Wiggles. Nap time. Good evening.

Stella: Tiger! No!

Tiger: (snore)

Stella: The most stubborn, uncooperative, pig-headed…

Doodlebug: Don’t call yourself ugly names, Aunt Stella.

Stella: Ggguurrrhhh! That’s Queen Stella to you, youngster! The younger generation has no respect. Sit down and listen!

Miss Sweetie: Ggguurrrhhh! How was that, Aunt Stella? Is that how you do it? Did I show good manners? Do I sound like you? I look like you. I will listen to your class. Teach me. Ggguurrrhhh!

Stella: Maybe tomorrow, Sweetie. And yes, you do a good imitation of me.

Snoopey: As though anyone wants to hear that. Pack nap time! (snore)

Stella: To be continued. (sigh)

Why Are Trees Living in a Parking Lot? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 5, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen.

Me: Is that all? Queen of what?

Stella: Queen of all I see. And today I see a parking lot with trees growing in it. Many, many tall green trees. How did this happen? I am a dog and even I know that trees grow in the dirt.

Me: Those are cut trees for Christmas. They aren’t growing there. They grew far away and were brought in by trucks.

Stella: Why?

Me: For Christmas trees.

Stella: Why?

Me: Because some people like to put up a fresh tree in the house for a decoration at this time of year.

Stella: Why?

Me: It’s an old tradition in some places.

Stella: Places like parking lots?

Me: No.

Stella: Is this one of those weird human things?

Me: Well, it’s a thing that some humans do, but the humans who do it are not weird. Necessarily.

Stella: Are you going to bring a wild tree into our house, Lady Human?

Me: No, I’m doing what I did last year and the year before. I have a tiny artificial tree that I put on a table and decorate.

Stella: Why don’t you bring a big wild tree into our house? It would be so fun.

Me: Bulldog fun. Can you imagine what a tree would look like after Miss Sweetie or Doodlebug had bulldog fun with it?

Stella: Yes! Yes, I can! Best parking lot tree ever!

What Is That Ugly Thing on Your Head? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 4, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Lady Human, hold very still. There is something on your head and I think it is alive.

Me: Hello to you, too, Stella. There is nothing alive on my head, but thank you for caring. And staring.

Stella: No, really, Lady Human. Don’t move! The thing on your head is fuzzy and wiggling. I think it is trying to eat your head. Here. Just bend down and let…me…hit…it…with my big paw.

Me: I am not about to bend down so you can slap my head with your paw.

Stella: But if I don’t get it now, it may be too late! What about your brain? You need your brain!

Me: I am wearing an old knit cap from when I was in college many years ago. Tall Man found it today while we were cleaning out. It’s in good shape after all this time, don’t you think?

Stella: No, I think not.

Me: Aw, Stella, it was perfect timing. This is the first weekend that the weather has been cool enough to even consider wearing a knit hat. I think it looks good, sort of.

Stella: No, I think not.

Me: Are you a fashion critic now?

Stella: I am a dog. If I am staring at something on your head, that means you have something weird on your head. Enough said. I still think it’s alive. Did you look inside to make sure a creature had not taken up residence before you simply plopped it on your head?

Me: Of course, I did.

Stella: Better check again.

Me: Nope.

Stella: There is a fuzzy round knob on top. It is shaking. Lady Human! There may be a squirrel living in it. It would be just like a squirrel to sneak into a human’s hat.

Me: Nope.

Stella: Even if it is empty, there is another great reason to take it off.

Me: What?

Stella: It’s ugly.

Me: A matter of opinion.

Stella: Aren’t we supposed to love others?

Me: Yes.

Stella: THEN DON’T WEAR UGLY THINGS THAT OTHERS HAVE TO LOOK AT!

Please Don’t Paw the Driver – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 2, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella and I are out on an errand run. It’s always fun traveling with a dog…Ow! Stella, don’t do that!

Stella: Don’t do what?

Me: Don’t hit me with your paw!

Stella: I had to get your attention.

Me: I can’t give you my attention. I am driving.

Stella: You did not introduce me.

Me: I said your name.

Stella: Not good enough.

Me: Ow! Stella, quit it! Don’t touch the driver. Ever.

Stella: Why not?

Me: It is distracting and drivers should not be distracted.

Stella: Not even by those little black boxes that make funny noises?

Me: Especially not by those.

Stella: Then put yours away!

Me: Oh, all right.

Stella: Introduce me!

Me: Ow! Don’t paw me!

Stella: But I love you.

Me: And that’s why you hit me?

Stella: I didn’t hit you. I loved you with my rough, heavy paw.

Me: If you keep it up, I will have to pull over and put you in the backseat.

Stella: I will just paw at you from there. Introduce me.

Me: Stella. Queen. Old English Bulldogge.

Stella: What else?

Me: Illustrious. Noble.

Stella: Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Me: You don’t know the challenges of driving.

Stella: Well, at least I am having a good time.

Me: That’s what it’s all about, Stella.

Stop Staring At Me! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on December 1, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Illustrious Queen (yes, I said it again!) of the Olde English Bulldogges. Lady Human and I are on an errand, a wonderful, wonderful errand to the feed store. Why? I’m glad you asked. We are going to pick up bulldog food. FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-LAH-FOOD! That’s a song that I just now made up.

Me: Probably not.

Stella: Yes, I did. I heard it on the car music box and they had the words all wrong. Except for the fah-lah-lah part. That was all right.

Me: Please remember to be polite in the feed store. If any other dogs are in there, they are not your business. No bulldog leash tugging.

Stella: I’ll be polite if they are polite. I am not putting up with rude.

Me: Ignoring rudeness is not putting up with it. Ignoring rudeness is putting rudeness in its place. It’s nothing and other people’s rudeness isn’t your business.

Stella: Stop staring at me!

Me: I’m not staring at you.

Stella: Not you. Those people in that car parked next to us. How rude! This is not a zoo! I am not an exhibit!

Me: They are smiling at you.

Stella: And look at that. They’re pointing at me! How would they like it if I pointed my stubby little toes at them? What? Now they are waving at me! Stop invading my space!

Me: They like you. They think you are cute.

Stella: Cute? How undignified! I am a queen!

Me: You could still wave or smile. Real queens do.

Stella: What do you mean ‘real queens’? Hmmpphh! Well, maybe one small…oh, look, they’re gone. Good. It’s about time.

“Love is not rude…” [I Corinthians 13:5 KJV]

Bulldoggy Chores Are #1 – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 29, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella: Lady Human, what are you doing?

Me: I am working on an arrangement that will make it easier for the cat to…

Stella: Oh, nothing important then. That’s what I thought. Stop doing that and start doing this.

Me: Start doing what? Stella, I am busy here.

Stella: Just with cat stuff. I need my toys washed and arranged. My water bowl needs to be cleaned. And I think my breakfast bowl this morning was not as full as usual so please check into that. Oh, and I was scratching a while ago and shed some hair behind my crate so that needs to be swept up. And Miss Sweetie drooled and snooted on the floor over there so break out that strong smelling stuff you use to wipe up messes. And…

Me: Woah, hold up there, Horsey! Just a cotton pickin’ minute! Who is in charge here?

Stella: I have been wondering about that for a long time now.

Thanksgiving Aftermath – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 24, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Once upon a time, yesterday, I, Stella the Illustrious, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, decreed that the Humans have a HAPPY THANKSGIVING with lots of excessive eating. I am sorry to report that our humans did not carry out my orders.

Me: How did we not carry out Thanksgiving? We celebrated Thanksgiving. We gave thanks to God. We gave you all extra treats. We ate. Lots. Abundant desserts. Potatoes. Cornbread dressing.

Stella: And where was this feast?

Me: Well, at a family friend’s house.

Stella: Not here.

Me: No.

Stella: So, we bulldogs missed out. Why couldn’t we go? Was it a bulldog-free zone?

Me: Yeah, they have a dog-aggressive bully breed and there were a bunch of small kids. Space was limited.

Stella: Are you saying we are fat?

Me: Never. Y’all are bulldog stocky. Outside dogs were not invited. Sorry.

Stella: You came in with bags and bags the other day. Where is our feast?

Me: We still have lots of food and we will share with you. Judiciously.

Stella: Is ‘judiciously’ a word that means we don’t get any?

Me: No, ‘judiciously’ means that we won’t feed you too much or feed you stuff that will likely make you sick.

Stella: Okay. It’s a deal.

Me: Are you still thankful?

Stella: Yes, because even though we could not share your Thanksgiving dinner today, we will thankfully consume all the rest of your abundance in the days to come. Thanksgiving is not limited to one day.

Stella’s Thanksgiving Proclamation – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 23, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Stella, Illustrious and Noble Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, hereby declare tomorrow to be Happy Thanksgiving Day, the Great Feast Day of the Humans Who Call Themselves Americans. Let the excessive eating begin.

Me: Thank you, Stella…

Stella: You see! My decree is already having an effect.

Me: Actually, the official Thanksgiving Day Proclamation goes back over a century and a half, so you are a little late.

Stella: A century and a half. Is that like yesterday afternoon?

Me: Not by a long sight. A century is a hundred years. To put that in perspective, you are 3 years old.

Stella: How can that be? I have been me forever.

Me: Time is a strange thing. Tell me, for what are you giving thanks?

Stella: I haven’t thought about it.

Me: Just off the top of your head.

Stella: I haven’t got anything on the top of my head. Not even a crown for which I am still waiting patiently – hint, hint. Nothing is on the top of my head…Except hair.. And my ears. All right. I am thankful to the Great Creator for my hair and for my ears.

Me: That’s not exactly what I meant.

Stella: Off the top of my head, I am thankful for my head. I am thankful that it is a bulldog head. Any other head would look weird on my body. And I am grateful to the Great Creator that the food keeps coming and I know it is from Him because humans are so forgetful. If He did not remind them, they would neglect to buy it.

Me: That makes me grateful to the Great Creator, too, for His reminders.

Stella: And I am grateful for Thanksgiving Day because it is a day of food and there are few things in the world that bulldogs like better than food.

Me: Happy Thanksgiving, Stella.

Stella: Happy Thanksgiving, Lady Human. Now where is my feast?

I Am So Mad and I Like It! – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 21, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Lady Human!

Me: That’s me! What? No long introduction about who you are?

Stella: There is no time! I am highly offended and I can’t let this nasty feeling wear off!

Me: Why do you want to hold on to a nasty feeling?

Stella: Being angry feels good.

Me: Yeah, sometimes. Until it sours your stomach. Dare I ask why you are offended?

Stella: Whether you ask or not, I will tell you. MOON THE CAT!

Me: What about her?

Stella: She looked right at me, right in the eye, and said…listen to this! She said, ‘MEOW!’ Aaaaaghhh! I am so mad!

Me: I am not good at interpreting cat dialects. That sounds like the same thing she says every day. Why is this different?

Stella: It was a cat insult and she meant it! MEOW! She shouted it! How would she feel if I said, “Hey, cat! How dumb are you!” Right in her face! On television, I saw humans carrying signs and marching in the streets. I want a sign, Lady Human! I want to march around the cat, carrying a sign that says, ‘Cat, shut up!’ and ‘No More Meows!’

Me: All right. This is going to sound like a lecture, but why don’t you just forgive her and go on with your life?

Stella: She yelled MEOW at me. That’s a fightin’ word.

Me: I figure every word a cat says to you is a fightin’ word. But not every word is worth fighting over. Why don’t you try walking up to her and saying something nice?

Stella: Like what? ‘Hey, Moon, your face isn’t as ugly today as it usually is.’

Me: Maybe something kinder like ‘Hey, I like the way you can jump up on tall things.’

Stella: I don’t like that. I never know when she is going to pounce on my head.

Me: She has never done that. I think you have blown this whole thing out of proportion.

Stella: Easy for you to say. She has never yelled MEOW in your face. You just wait. One of these days I am going to yell MEOW right back at her. Then we’ll see who out-cats who.

Me: Stella the Bull-cat.

Stella: What did you call me?

Me: Nothing.

Stella: Aw, the nasty mood is fading. I knew it wouldn’t stay around.

Me: Aren’t you starting to feel better?

Stella: Yes. It’s terrible. I really wanted to carry that sign.

Me: Sorry, Stella. You’ll just have to wait until the next time.

Stella: Will there be a next time to be offended?

Me: Sadly, there always is.

Stella’s Bedtime Story – Conversations with Stella

Posted on November 7, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Hello, humans! I am Queen Stella. Turn down the lights. Silence all loud noises. This bedtime story is for you. You need calming down. You have all been tense for months and Lady Human says that tomorrow is the Official Day of Election Nonsense. Since humans are full of nonsense most of the time, I don’t understand why tomorrow is more nonsensical than other human days, but I will take her word for it. After all, she is human and should know.

Me: May I close my eyes and listen?

Stella: As you wish. Now we begin.

Once upon a time this time yesterday, a sweet, smart bulldog named Stella was baking a meat pie.

Me: You aren’t going to change the main character’s name?

Stella: Listeners must be silent.

Me: Sorry.

Stella: Where was I? Oh, yes. Sweet, smart Stella was baking a wonderful, spicy meat pie. All the bulldogs sniffed the air to catch the aroma. Everyone sat still, quiet and nodding sleepily. She pulled the pie from the oven and set it on the floor where the bulldogs could reach it. As it cooled, the bulldogs dreamed of the magic pie and how good it would taste.

Me: Magic pie?

Stella: It is food, isn’t it? Now close your eyes and be quiet and calm down. It was peaceful, so peaceful when SUDDENLY, IN THROUGH THE WINDOW BURST A FLYING SQUIRREL!

Me: What?

Stella: The squirrel whirled around the kitchen, clawing on each pass at the bulldogs and the precious meat pie. Sweet Stella stood up to defend her kin, transforming into FLYING STELLA, SQUIRREL FIGHTER. She reached into the pie and pulled out a piece of carrot. She threw it out the window in front of the food-stealing squirrel and slammed the window shut behind him. No squirrel was going to get away with her pie!

Me: This is a bedtime story to calm people down?

Stella: Think of defeating a flying squirrel at his own game. That always calms me down. Doesn’t it you?

You Smell Good! Wait! Where Have You Been? – Conversations with Stella

Posted on October 27, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella the Illustrious. (That sounds so good, doesn’t it?) I am Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hello! And once again, Lady Human has come home after dark with no explanation for her absence.

Me: Well, excuse me!

Stella: No. Not this time.

Me: Stella, I am a human, remember? I am not subject to any bulldog curfew.

Stella: When you left, it was daylight. When you came home, it was dark.

Me: I was gone for a total of four hours.

Stella: And you came home smelling of popcorn.

Me: Really? I didn’t notice.

Stella: Are you questioning my dog nose? Even a bulldog has a better sense of scent than any human. You also smelled of wieners and bread and mustard, a delicious odor from what you so rudely refer to as a “Hot Dog”.

Me: You caught that, too. Your nose is more sensitive than I thought. I wasn’t anywhere near the Hot Dog Stand.

Stella: Aha! A confession! You went to a party without us!

Me: Stella, honey, I go lots of places without y’all. No dogs were allowed.

Stella: And yet other animals were. I scented an owl, a porcupine, a possum, small horses, goats, ducks, chickens…

Me: How do you know what a porcupine smells like?

Stella: You weren’t around for my first year and a half. You don’t know what I experienced.

Me: Did you run into a porcupine before you met us?

Stella: Not the point, but I guessed right, didn’t I?

Me: Mmmm. Yeah.

Stella: Where did you go that we could not?

Me: I volunteered at a Fall Festival at my church. It was for humans. Only humans. Families and kids. I worked a snow cone machine.

Stella: Snow cones? I like snow cones.

Me: And we had a popcorn machine.

Stella: Popcorn? I like popcorn.

Me: And a cotton candy machine.

Stella: Cotton candy. I like to eat cotton.

Me: Cotton candy is a little different. And we had hot dogs.

Stella: That’s me.

Me: And a petting zoo with ponies, goats, ducks, and chickens. And the City Zoo brought an owl and a possum and, yes, a porcupine.

Stella; I knew it! They let other animals in, but not bulldogs. Unfair!

Me: Maybe next year, Stella.

Stella: I will volunteer, Lady Human, but only if I get one snow cone, two hot dogs, a bag of popcorn, and a taste of cotton candy. And if I can get petted by all the children. No adults, please. I can get petted by adults anytime.

Unfair Disbursement – Conversations with Stella

Posted on October 24, 2016October 24, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I, Queen Stella the Illustrious Olde English Bulldogge, hereby issue a decree: the humans shall guarantee that each bulldog shall receive the same quantity of treats, no exceptions. Well, one exception and that’s me.

Me: Everybody gets a treat at the same time so it’s all fair.

Stella: No, it’s not. Not all is fair in love and treats. I heard a human say that.

Me: I doubt any human ever said that. They probably said something like ‘all is fair in love and war’.

Stella: Precisely. That’s what I said.

Me: I don’t think so…

Stella: Love. Treats. Fair. War. Yep. I love my treats and if you are not fair, I will go to war for my treats.

Me: What has brought this on?

Stella: The chicken jerky treats are not being evenly distributed.

Me: I break the strips up and make sure that each of you gets a piece.

Stella: How do you break them up?

Me: I snap them with my fingers.

Stella: And your fingers have measuring marks on them?

Me: Uh, no.

Stella: So how do you know how much Snoopey is getting compared to me?

Me: They look about the same length…

Stella: You are guessing!

Me: I’m pretty close each time.

Stella: Pretty close is not close.

Me: They are approximately the same size.

Stella: Wrong! What does ‘approximately’ mean? If Snoopey gets one millimeter more per day for 10 days, that means I was cheated 10 millimeters. In 100 days, you owe me 10 centimeters of chicken jerky. That is almost 4 inches of chicken jerky! It adds up fast.

Me: Stella, what have you been doing with yout free time? Where did you learn about millimeters and centimeters?

Stella: Sometimes at night, Tall Man works on his projects by my crate. He has a long yellow ribbon with markings on it and he calls out numbers as he measures. It’s really fun to watch and pretty soon he has built another something that he takes away and we never see again.

Me: He is very handy.

Stella: No, he only has two of them.

Me: What I mean is…never mind. I understand that you want everything to be evenly divided. When I was a kid, a cousin of mine always wanted to divide any candy bar we got and he always made sure that his piece was a little bigger than mine. I thought it was very unfair, but when I complained, he gobbled up his piece, destroying the evidence.

Stella: He sounds like a true treat lover. My kind of human. But you see my point about fairness.

Me: I see your point. Here is mine. If I have to measure jerky treats to the nearest millimeter, it is going to slow treat distribution to a crawl. And then there’s the question of how thick each treat is. You wouldn’t want to get a big thick piece while poor Snoopey got a thin slice, would you?

Stella: Mmmm, I wouldn’t mind that so much.

Me: Fair?

Stella: I could be appointed the Royal Treat Taster and pick my own.

Me: I have a feeling that all the treats would end up in your mouth and I wouldn’t be fast enough to stop you. Maybe you should focus on gratitude for what you do get.

Stella: Is that what you did toward your puppy cousin?

Me: No, young humans often are unwise. Gratitude came much later.

Stella: What did you do?

Me: I learned to buy my own candy bars and hide them.

Spoiled Humans and Their Toys – Conversations with Stella

Posted on October 9, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella: A box came.

Me: No introduction this time? No “I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges”?

Stella: Thank you for handling that for me. A box came.

Me: Yes.

Stella: A box came through the door.

Me: Yes.

Stella: A box came through the door into the house.

Me: Yes. This is a wonderful exercise in sentence building.

Stella: What is a sentence?

Me: Never mind.

Stella: The box. Was the box for me?

Me: No.

Stella: Did the box have toys for me?

Me: No.

Stella: Did the box have treats for me?

Me: No.

Stella: Did the box have food for me?

Me: No.

Stella: Oh, no! Did the box have an undignified costume for me? Like a pumpkin?

Me: I like bulldogs dressed as pumpkins. And ballerinas. And cowboys. And…

Stella: No! I knew it! Where can I hide until costume season is over? Couch? No, can’t fit under there. Behind the Picture Box? No, not enough room back there.

Me: The box is not for you.

Stella: For Tiger then? She’s always wanted to be a ballerina.

Me: The box was for me. It was a new laptop computer. My old one died.

Stella: Died? I am so sorry, Lady Human. You may pet my head if it will make you feel better.

Me: It was not a living creature. It was a machine. When I say it ‘died’, it stopped working and was not worth fixing.

Stella: It was a toy like the ones we shredded last year. No fun, no more.

Me: It’s a toy and it’s a tool.

Stella: Humans have lots of toys and tools. Your hands are always doing things I don’t understand. You spend too much time playing with them. I think I should take some of them away. When the next box comes, that will be mine. You don’t need any more toys. You are spoiled.

Me: I am spoiled?

Stella: Yes. I saw those plush pajama pants you brought home. You can’t fool me. Those are for you, not for me.

Me: They would not fit you.

Stella: Are you saying that I am too fat? How rude!

Me: No, I am saying that they are made for humans and that’s me. You may be disappointed with the next box that shows up. It will have books in it. Are you planning to learn to read?

Stella: Books? You mean those things you hold in your lap and stare at hour after hour? I’ll take them. They look delicious.

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