Olde English Bulldogge – Page 7

Promise Me or I’ll Scream – Conversations with Stella

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

This is Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Please allow me to begin this conversation with a SCREAM!!! AAAAAGGGHHHHEEEEEEE!!!

Me: Ow, Stella! What was that? It hurt my ears!

Stella: WHERE DID YOU GO?

Me: Stella, stop yelling! I went to the store, that’s all. I was only gone for an hour.

Stella: Only an hour from hell!

Me: But there’s nothing wrong. Everything seems fine. Everyone is here. No one is hurt and no one else is screaming. Why are you so upset?

Stella: The Picture Box! Look at the Picture Box!

Me: The television? I’m looking. It’s all right.

Stella: All right? All right? Look at the humans running! Hear them screaming! They are being chased by a…GIANT LIZARD! You never told me that there were GIANT LIZARDS! Why? Why are there such things?

Me: It’s all right, Stella.

Stella: No, no it’s not! Why isn’t someone helping those poor humans?

Me: It is not a news program. It is a movie. It’s entertainment.

Stella: Humans think that giant lizards chasing and eating people is entertainment? Think again!

Me: It’s all make-believe, made up stuff. It’s not real.

Stella: You mean that there never have been any giant lizards?

Me: Well, actually there were…

Stella: NO! Horrible!

Me: Calm down. They haven’t been around for a long, long time.

Stella: Do you promise me that there are no giant lizards now?

Me: It depends on your definition of ‘giant’. There are some lizards that are your size.

Stella: Life is a nightmare.

Me: No, it isn’t. In all your time on Earth, have you ever seen a lizard anywhere near your size?

Stella: Hmmm. No. Just little guys like that green talking one that keeps showing up on the Picture Box. He’s okay.

Me: So admit it. Life is not a nightmare.

Stella: I will reserve judgment for now.

Me: What can I do to make this all better for you?

Stella: I can’t tell the difference between your human make-believe and your human news programs.

Me: Neither can I.

Stella: Pledge to me that you will not leave the Picture Box on when you go to the store or anyplace else.

Me: All right. I pledge that I will not leave the television on when I leave the house. Subject to the following exceptions: I may forget, I may not be able to turn it off, someone else may turn it on, you may turn it on, I may not want to turn it off.

Stella: That does not sound like a pledge.

Me: The meaning of the word ‘pledge’ has weakened considerably over the years.

Stella: So humans no longer make real pledges?

Me: Of course they do. It all depends on who the person is who is making the pledge. And on who is receiving it.

Stella: But you still promise that there are no more giant lizards, right?

Me: Hmmm.

My Heavy Crown – Stella’s Blog

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

As Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, I, Stella McStarFace the First, have many responsibilities.

I have to guard all of my toys to make sure they aren’t misappropriated. Misappropriated is a long word that Lady Human taught me. It means stolen by bulldogs.

I have to complain – loudly, using my outdoor voice in an inappropriate manner so I get maximum attention. Inappropriate is another of Lady Human’s long words. She uses those words when she stands in front of the bulldogs and talks and talks and talks, usually after someone has caused a riot or a ruckus. The speeches are pretty boring, but they increase my vocabulary so I don’t complain about them. Much. Usually I just drift off into a nap.

So what, you may ask, do I have to complain about? That list is lengthy and the subject for another blog post. In fact, I should include that list in a conversation with Lady Human. That will save time. How do the humans put it? Kill two cats with one stone.

(Transcriptionist: No, not cats. The old expression is…oh, nevermind.)

Please ignore any interruptions by my staff. To continue –

3. I have the primary responsibility for chasing Moon the Cat. Oh, the others pretend that they will, but when they come face to face with her, what do they do? They stare and walk on by, leaving all the real chasing for me. It is quite lazy of them and selfish to boot. As much as I enjoy cat-chasing, the whole weight of it should not fall on me and my heavy head.

4. I am the bulldog representative to the humans, not just for complaining even though that is the most fun. The humans are pretty clueless and I let them know what needs to be done, such as when we need treats, and more treats, and different types of treats, and more of those treats, too. I am also the taste-tester for all new treats. Unless it has my royal approval, it doesn’t get shared with the others. Of course, I don’t mind finishing off the rejects.

I am sure that I have other queenly responsibilities, but I don’t know what they are so I don’t care. Right now, I am going to exercise my prerogative to take a long nap. Being queen is a tiring business.

Signed,

Stella the First, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

The Stupid Award – Conversations with Stella

Posted on July 19, 2016July 19, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Stella: In my authority as Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, I hereby institute the Stupid Awards. Tah-dah! As the humans say.

Me: Just wondering. Are the awards stupid or are the recipients stupid?

Stella: Silence! The Queen is speaking!

Me: Yeah, that kind of command doesn’t work on me. Human, remember?

Stella: I am never allowed to forget. (Sigh)

Me: I apologize, Stella. I’ll play along. Are these Stupid Awards like your List of Offenders?

Stella: Oh, no. Offenders don’t get prizes. The Stupids will.

Me: I can’t wait to see what they are.

Stella: You won’t have to wait. You will be providing them.

Me: Well…that depends…

Stella: Each award winner will be credited with one treat of their choice, which will then be given to me.

Me: So this is really all about you getting more treats.

Stella: No, it is about recognizing stupidity where it lives.

Me: There is no shortage of stupidity in the world.

Stella: I will be happy to hand out awards for all of it. I haven’t decided what the short name for the awards should be. I am leaning toward calling them Stupies.

Me: Who is your award winner?

Stella: The first Stupie goes to Tiger for jumping up on your leg and digging her nail into your skin. You were wearing those pants that are missing the knee parts and she made you bleed your own blood. That was stupid.

Me: She was not stupid. She was just excited. I think it surprised her as much as it did me.

Stella: Drawing blood is stupid. There! I said it! I am the Queen. My decision stands. That will be one treat for me, please.

Me: Shouldn’t you share the treat with Tiger since she won the award?

Stella: What? Award someone for being stupid. How stupid do you think I am?

Me: Oh, Stella, I don’t think you are stupid at all. Here’s your treat.

Stella: Mmmmm. Sweet potato chip. Maybe I should hand out more stupid awards.

Me: Let’s not overdo it. You don’t want to spoil your supper. By the way, what happens if you win the Stupid Award?

Stella: Not that I ever would, but double treats for me! I win again! Yea, me!

The Trophy

Posted on July 18, 2016July 18, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Doodlebug and Miss Sweetie still qualify as puppies. They are 9 month old litter mates, rambunctious and wild as…well. ..as young bulldogs. I was going to say March Hares, but bulldogs probably would not appreciate being compared to any variety of rabbit. They would admire their speed, but rabbits don’t possess those iconic bulldog fangs, something of which the bulldogs are justly proud.

A favorite game of theirs is to grab the scruff of the other’s neck, a particularly loose area of skin on bulldogs. One will grip the other, usually while they are in full gallop, Then let the wrestling begin. The grabber pulls the grab-ee down, they roll around for a few minutes and, turnabout being fair play, the grab-ee returns the favor. Doodlebug drags Miss Sweetie across the yard. Miss Sweetie takes her turn doing the same.

The whole game appears rough. It is. And they love it. They are best friends for life and their tit for tat is continually forgiven.

But Miss Sweetie may have gone a little too far during one of their games.

When it was time for them to come in from play to avoid the brutal heat, I opened the back door and Doodlebug rushed in, sans his new collar. Great. Okay. The search was on.

It didn’t take long. Out in the yard, refusing to come in, was Miss Sweetie with Doodlebug’s collar hanging from her mouth. I caught up with her and retrieved the stolen collar. Its latch was broken. She had grabbed him, not by the scruff of his neck, but by his collar. So much easier.

Her powerful jaws had cracked one side of the latch and she let her brother go, preferring to keep his collar as a trophy of victory. Doodlebug is stronger than she is and it is rare that she comes out on top in their contests.

Still, to her credit, she never gives up. This time she came away with something to prove her triumph.

Trophies are iffy things. Not everyone who has one deserves it.

I am reminded by Doodlebug’s broken collar –

It’s not much of a trophy if I tore it out of the rightful owner’s hands.

It’s not a victory if I claimed what was not mine.

It’s not a true victory if I didn’t play by the rules. (2 Timothy 2:5)

Did Miss Sweetie compete lawfully according to bulldog rules? I don’t know. They have not deigned to include me on those details. Perhaps someday I will understand them.

Once Upon a Time – Conversations with Stella

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

Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge Queen, is back with me for another conversation. So what’s the topic this time, girl?”

Stella: Girl? How rude! Would you call the Queen of England “girl”?

Me: No, but the Queen of England is…how shall I say this…a real queen.

Stella: Hmmph! You don’t know your queens, do you? A crown does not a queen make. So, by the way, where’s my crown?

Me: I thought you just said that a crown does not a queen make.

Stella: That doesn’t mean I don’t want one. I have even started a story about it.

Once upon a time, there was a special dog named Stella. She was a queen, but nobody gave her a crown to wear, just a dumb old collar that was at least a pretty color. Without a crown, people could not tell that she was a queen. One day, she pulled her collar off and wore it on her head, but since it had no gold or jewels, people stared at her and said, “Look! A dog with a collar on her head. Who does she think she is – a queen?

How do you like it so far?

Me: It’s kind of sad. Now I want to get you a crown.

Stella: Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Make it solid gold with jewels, all different colors, and those pointy things all around the top. Will you ever wear a crown, Lady Human?

Me: Only as God grants.

Stella: I think you would look good in one. Not as good as I will, but good enough.

Mouth Traffic Jam – Stella’s Blog

Posted on July 14, 2016July 14, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Once again, hello!

We bulldogs are known everywhere by our big, beautiful mouths. They are wide and deep and framed on the bottom by serious-looking teeth that Lady Human calls our “upside down vampire fangs”. I don’t know what an upside down vampire is. Since she loves bulldogs, that was probably a compliment to us. Probably. Maybe. Lady Human says weird things sometimes. I still love her. Probably.

Bulldogs are vocal. Human translation: LOUD. It is one of the things I like most about us. If you are a dog, bark. If you are going to bark, BARK LOUD!

Don’t be a pipsqueak!

But having said that, there is too much bulldog mouth traffic around here. This past week has been LOUD. When Lady Human takes me somewhere in her rolling box and there are too many other rolling boxes in front of her, she says, ‘Traffic jam!’ That means we won’t get to the fun place or…yuck, the vet (a sweet lady, but you know, vet) any time soon.

What we have at our house is a MOUTH TRAFFIC JAM. Too much bulldog talk too much of the time. Why does this bother me? Because with everyone else barking, no one can hear me. As queen, I deserve to be heard first, foremost, and all the time.

If the queen barks and no one hears her, how can she be queen?

So today I am issuing a queen order. (A what? An edict? If you say so.) I am issuing an edict.

NOBODY TALKS WHILE I AM TALKING. IF I AM QUIET AND START TALKING, EVERYBODY ELSE, SHUT UP!

SIGNED, QUEEN STELLA

Well, that was easy enough. I am surprised that the humans haven’t figured out the edict thing yet. It would solve all of their problems.

Signed, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

Jump for Joy

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

Had I turned around three seconds later, I would have missed it. Isn’t that the way with so many things in life? A couple of seconds here, a minute there, and the event is over . Done and gone.

Doodlebug and Miss Sweetie cut loose with a mad puppy dash around the den and kitchen. Mind you, each of these “puppies” weighs sixty pounds. At this point, they are more of an imitation of Sherman tanks on the roll, much like their adult counterparts when they are so inspired.

I corralled Doodlebug and, as I was leading him back to the calm of his crate, Miss Sweetie roared out of the kitchen at a gallop. Not a trot, not a run – a full out gallop.

And then she did it. Her four bulldog legs launched her body into the air. She kicked her hind legs flat in a bucking bronc move. A bucking bulldog. The leap flew her 18 inches off the floor. She landed with her full galloping stride unchecked. She slid to a stop in the utility room, turned, and continued her bolting run back toward the kitchen.

By the time I caught up to her, her tongue lolled to the right side of her mouth and her face wore a satisfied look that declared, “I did what I came to do and it was great.”

Her leap was a jump of pure joy.

It would not have scored high marks at the Olympics. Nobody will base a dance craze on it. And since I had no camera rolling, no video of it will go viral.

But I smiled. And I grinned when I saw her bulldoggy face and the satisfaction written all over it. Thank the LORD for jumps of joy.

So many tears have been shed. For so many reasons.

But then there is joy.

“…weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5 KJV)

Please Walk With Me, Not Against Me – Conversations with Stella

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

I am here once again with Stella, QUEEN of the Olde English Bulldogges…

Stella: Thank you for remembering to mention my proper title.

Me: How could I forget? Training bulldogs to walk on a lead or leash has been a greater challenge than I had expected.

Stella: Wait! When you bring out the leash, I get all excited and it has been training? As in…yuck…obedience training?

Me: Uh, yeah. Not that obedience has had much to do with it. I do enjoy taking you places and walking with you, but, thus far, I consider my leash training efforts to have been a failure.

Stella: Let’s see. How would you put it? YEAH, DUH, WE’RE BULLDOGS!

Me: If I could do it safely, I would let all of you out with no leashes. But someplaces, like those state parks where we camped, won’t allow that at all, and some places, like public sidewalks, aren’t safe for you.

Cars rush by. Strange dogs are running around.

Stella: Strange dogs? What is strange about them? Just how strange are they? Do they have eight legs? Do they fly?

Me: (sigh) Strange as in unfamiliar to you. Regular dogs you have not met and that haven’t met you.

Stella: Well, all right. If you say so. You would tell me if there were such unusual dogs, wouldn’t you?

Me: If I learn of dogs that fly or dogs that run on eight legs…

Stella: Spider Dogs.

Me: Spider Dogs. Yes, I will warn you in advance. In fact, I might just stay home all the time with you.

Stella: You could still brave it to go buy more treats when we run low.

Me: Thanks, Stella, I would risk encountering monster dogs to go pick up your treats.

Stella: I know. And that is one of the reasons why I love you, Lady Human.

Me: Back to leash training. When you bulldogs “walk” on a leash, you don’t walk with me. You pull me or you veer off in a perpendicular direction, left or right.

Stella: I don’t know where this “perpendicular” is, but you are right. We pretty much go whichever way we want. As for pulling, doesn’t that help you speed up your walking?

Me: I have to speed up to walk with you. Any of you. But that’s not my goal as much as keeping myself upright and not kissing the pavement.

Stella: Pavement kissing is not your favorite thing?

Me: I don’t do it voluntarily.

Stella: I do pavement sniffing all the time and I rather like it.

Me: Two totally different activities by two totally different creatures. Can we please work on walking in the same direction with you walking beside me and not pulling me from the front or from the side?

Stella: We can work on it. Not making any promises. I can’t deny my nature.

Me: But you can curb it.

Stella: Curbs. Yes. I totally understand curbs.

“Can two walk together, except they be agreed?” (Amos 3:3 KJV)

Poop and Patience

Posted on July 11, 2016July 11, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Eventually, if you talk about dogs long enough, you will come to the subject of poop. Yes, we humans refer to this as bathroom talk. I only bring it up now because for months we have been working with Miss Sweetie to view the whole of outdoors as her bathroom and indoors as off limits for that type of activity.

It has been a challenge, a long battle, and on various weeks, we thought we had won the fight, only to have a setback, a retreat, if you will, into old bad habits. You see, at a mysterious point in her young life, Miss Sweetie had a crate accident and came to associate her crate with her bathroom.

Solitary trips outside without the other dogs helped. When she is outside with the others, it is time for play-play, not poo-poo, and she never gets down to business.

After months of training, we still have the occasional incident. It seems that Miss Sweetie does not want to bother us by asking to be let out, so she silently takes care of her needs indoors, usually in her crate. We have tried the cleaning solutions, putting her food in her crate, lavish, instant praise, and other suggestions by internet dog poop gurus, and things are going much better.

Still, poop happens.

I walk around outside with Miss Sweetie, just the two of us, so that there are no bulldog distractions. Every morning, you can hear me encouraging her, saying words I never intended in my life to say to anyone.

“Poop! Go ahead. You can poop. You can do it. Anytime now. It’s fine. Just pick your favorite spot. Or a new spot. Any spot. Poop. This is your time.This is your moment.”

I sincerely hope no one is within earshot during these sessions. I can hear them now. “There goes that poor woman who thinks she has to talk her dog into pooping.”

After minutes…and minutes…and minutes of sniffing, visiting with the chickens, taste-testing new sticks, pointing her smooshy face skyward to catch the latest scent on the wind, Miss Sweetie ambles away from me, on a poop quest at last, and secretly I rejoice.

So what have I learned from this?

That if I want people to be patient with me, I need to be patient with them.

That some things can’t be rushed.

That it’s perfectly all right not to be in a hurry.

That while I do not want to smell poop, I need to slow down and smell the morning air.

That I can wait for my first cup of coffee/tea a few more minutes.(Flexibility is good. I’m not going to die.)

That not everything responds instantly to my command. (Who do I think I am anyway?And what am I rushing off to? Get real. It is probably no more interesting than waiting for a dog to poop.)

I keep coming back to this:

But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. (James 1:4 KJV)

Stella’s Blog – An Open Letter to My Sister, Snoopey

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

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hello!

This is an open letter to my sister, Snoopey McLoud BarkyFace:

Dear Snoopey:

Shut up!!!

You are so tense. Every noise, every hint of a noise, every time one of the humans comes or goes, up you jump and loudly you bark. Now you have me jumping up whenever you jump up. Declare an end to the stupid! I have only had two 10-hour naps today and I am sleep deprived. All thanks to you.

The humans are under pressure because of bad things that happened within miles, but not in our backyard. They are sad and that’s when they need us the most. If you are tense because they are, get over it. Jumping up to bark every few minutes won’t help anybody and, more importantly, it ticks me off!

It is late. Listen to me. I am your sister and I love you. Well, maybe, most of the time. Don’t get any ideas of taking advantage. No treat sharing or toy sharing, so don’t even ask. Sharing is for puppies and sister love extends only so far.

GO TO SLEEP! PLEASE! You will feel better in the morning. If not, we can find an island where you can go on a nice vacation and sunbathe on the warm sand. Lady Human tells me that such places exist. I don’t know that they are dog islands though, so you will probably have to get something called a “passport”.

Good Night, Snoopey! Sweet dreams. Everything will be all right.

Love (sort of),

Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges (and your sister)

When You Don’t Know What to Say, Pray – Conversations with Stella

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

I am Stella. I am an Olde English Bulldogge. In fact, I am their queen. For those who don’t know me, that was my introduction. My question today is

The humans are sad. Why?

Me: Something terrible took place last night not many miles from where we are.

Stella: I don’t understand. How far is “miles”? Did it happen in our backyard?

Me: No, but it feels as though it did.

Stella: Did it happen to us?

Me: As hard as this may be for you to comprehend, it happened to all of us.

Stella: I don’t feel different. And when I woke up this morning, I counted and all of us were here, bulldogs and humans. Even the cat.

Me: Not every family can say that.

Stella: Tell me the truth. Did some bulldogs get loose and run wild?

Me: No, nothing like that.

Stella: So it is not our fault?

Me: No.

Stella: That is a relief. I always feel guilty when dogs cause a problem. I want to stop problems, not cause them.

Me: Me, too.

Stella: Was it a storm? Because those can cause problems and I don’t know how to stop them either.

Me: It was like a storm, but humans caused it.

Stella: But humans don’t like storms! Why would humans cause one?

Me: Hatred. Confusion. Mistrust. Do you remember when Tiger came to us and why?

Stella: Yes, a dog attacked Tiger and hurt her so badly that she almost crossed over. Was what happened last night like that, but it was not done by dogs, but by humans?

Me: Yes.

Stella: But humans are supposed to have more understanding than we do. Humans are supposed to know better.

Me: We don’t apparently. Not by a long shot.

Stella: But the Great Creator put humans in charge and we are all subject to you. Stop the human-made storms! What are you going to do?

Me: Pray. And keep praying. Never stop. Even if things look all right. Ask the LORD and obey what He says. And never give up. Never. Never. Never.

Stella: What can I do?

Me: Be yourself, Stella. That’s what God created you to do.

Stella: How can that help?

Me: We need to smile again. And laugh. That’s another part of this life that God has given us. And that, Stella, is where you come in.

“For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work. But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.” (James 3:3 KJV)

Stop the Noise! I Can’t Think! – Conversations with Stella

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

The noise level in the house has increased ten-fold this week. Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, may be able to shed light on why.

Stella: Not our fault. Totally falls on the humans’ shoulders. What did you think would happen when you brought a long red pole with a sponge on it into the house? Who can stand such a thing?

Me: It’s a mop. How are we supposed to mop the floor without a mop?

Stella: Stick a towel on your feet and skate. I’ve seen you do that before.

Me: On a small area. Not on the whole floor. And you didn’t just go nuts barking at the mop. Once you got your bucket kicked over, you all were barking at everything.

Stella: Our barking is a public service. If you don’t want us to bark, don’t bring in strange things that fit on the end of long poles. We hate long, skinny stuff. And don’t bring around strange people either, no matter what shape they are. We are not partial to strangers. It took us long enough to get used to you and Tall Man.

Me: Well, with all the barking, I can’t think my way out of a box.

Stella: Why would you be in a box?

Me: It means that I can’t think through even simple problems.

Stella: I am sorry, Lady Human. I am sorry that we are so annoying. We are bulldogs.

Me: No, don’t be sorry, Stella. If it weren’t for your noise, things would be too quiet around here.

Stella: As a favor to you, we will stop barking. For today only. Just to make room for your thinking. We don’t want you to be stuck in a box. Tomorrow we will recommence.

Me: Can’t we make that bark stoppage permanent?

Stella: Not if you insist on mopping.

Stella’s Blog – Why Are Humans Crazy?

Posted on July 6, 2016July 6, 2016 by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Hello!

Today’s question: Why are humans crazy?

I wish I understood humans better. Not just their long words that don’t translate into bulldoggese, but why they keep bringing in weird stuff that is scary.

The vacuum I understand. It is loud and annoying, but I now know that it will not suck me in. The humans use it to clean up dog hair. Dog hair is not a problem, but it is the humans’ time to waste so I don’t interfere.

The little round boxes that make a false wind are not a problem anymore either. They make us feel cooler and the wind is never strong enough to knock anything down. I will allow them to stay.

Then there are all the strange, loud things that Tall Man does outside. Roaring and sawing and banging. Buzzing that sounds like a giant bee. (Oh, no! Not giant insects! Not again! If we are really quiet, maybe they will go away.)

And now, the latest horror. A LONG RED POLE with a SPONGE attached to one end. Why is that so frightening? I HAVE NO IDEA, BUT IT IS!

How would you like it if a long red stick with a sponge showed up in your home and someone started dipping it in water and pushing it around the floor? Exactly! You wouldn’t like it at all. We sure didn’t. We barked and yelped and told it to leave. We didn’t care that Tall Man was the one pushing it. The awful pole with the sponge had fooled him into bringing into the house. I don’t know what it was up to, what its evil plan was, but all the bulldogs agreed that it needed to leave.

Of course, Moon the Cat was no help, as usual. She slept through the whole thing or pretended to. She may have planned the whole thing. How do we know what she is doing when she is out of sight?

How can we bulldogs stop these frightening things from happening? How long will the humans bring crazy, scary things into the house?

Well, at least things have settled down…wait, what is that in Tall Man’s hands? It is a LONG GREEN POLE with a SAW on the end of it. Humans! Will the nightmare never end?

Have a nice day!

Signed,

Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

Stella’s Blog – You Call This a Celebration?

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

This is Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

What was going on last night?

Boom-booms started after the sun went to bed. They rocked the sky for hours. I thought a big storm was roaring, but when I finally agreed to let Lady Human lead me out into the yard, no storm, no rain, no wind, just boom-booms and more boom-booms.

Tiger refused to go out; she was afraid of the sky booming. Ridiculous! Tiger, never pass up a chance to go to the bathroom!

Lady Human did not seem nervous or afraid so I decided that I did not have to worry, but I got my business done in double quick time all the same.

I waited for her to tell me what was happening. When she didn’t, I stared at her until she got the point. Humans need hints. I didn’t understand all of her words, but she said that the humans were celebrating something big and the boom-booming was how they showed their joy.

That makes no sense. When bulldogs celebrate, we don’t make loud noises – oh, wait, we do, but barking is not nearly so loud and annoying and scary as boom-booming in the sky. How the humans were making the sky boom, I have no idea. Humans are very clever and are able to make things fly. They are also silly and waste their time on things that have nothing to do with food, treats, or toys.

Bulldogs know how to celebrate. We dance, we prance, we roll, we bark, we talk, we eat, we sleep, we sniff, we run, we slap with our paws, we chew, we burp, and we let air out in other ways not so popular.

Humans could learn a thing or two about celebrating from us.

Finally, the boom-booming slowed down. Then it stopped. The humans causing it had fallen asleep or had run out of loud noise makers. But a little later, the sky got loud again, and this time we saw light flash. A storm had arrived. Thunder cracked and sky fire lit up everything. It went on and on.

The humans may disagree with me, but I think the Great Creator was celebrating with them.

Happy Celebrating, People!

Signed, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

Why Are You Sticking Your Tongue Out at Me? – Conversations with Stella

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

I have a question for Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge…

Stella: Queen!

Me: Whatever. Why do bulldogs stick out their tongues?

Stella: Tongues need fresh air. It is a bulldog thing. Other dogs do it. Bulldogs do it best.

Me: But why?

Stella: Don’t humans stick their tongues out?

Me: Only to lick our lips or to be rude.

Stella: How is sticking your tongue out rude?

Me: To humans, it means something like, ‘I don’t care what you think. In your face.’

Stella: How is that rude?

Me: Believe me. When humans do it, it’s rude. It’s the attitude behind it.

Stella: I have no attitude behind sticking my tongue out. I do it because it feels good to me and it cools me off a little and it is a bulldog move and I am proud to be a bulldog.

Me: All right. I understand. What about when you stick your tongue out while you are sunbathing, which I have observed you are doing on a regular basis now. You never used to sunbathe.

Stella: My tongue can use a little sun, too.

Me: Aren’t you concerned that your tongue may get sunburnt?

Stella: Nope. Bulldog tongues are tough. The sun would never dare to burn our tongues.

Me: What would happen if it did?

Stella: We would have to attack that old sun and lick it until we put it out.

Me: A huge pack of bulldogs attacking the sun. I can imagine that.

Stella: Are we getting back on that imagining thing?

Me: It would take a large effort from NASA.

Stella: What is NASA? Is that a bulldog group?

Me: In a way. Keep sticking your tongue out, Stella.

Bulldogs Stink!- Conversations with Stella

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

Hello, humans! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Me: Or simply Stella, as I like to call her.

Stella: I am not simply Stella. I am not simple at all.

Me: All right, complex Stella, what do you want to talk about?

Stella: You and Tall Man were spraying water everywhere this afternoon. Why?

Me: We were giving Doodlebug and Miss Sweetie baths. We put an attachment on the hose that sprayed water all around them, head to tail. It makes washing the soap off easier.

Stella: You wasted your time and your water.

Me: Really? I think they smell a whole lot better than they did.

Stella: Nope, not so much.

Me: We used some nice vanilla-scented shampoo.

Stella: Wasted.

Me: We scrubbed their hair and rinsed them with lots of clean water.

Stella: Wasted.

Me: Now I’m disappointed.

Stella: Have you seen how they roll around in the dirt? And in other stuff?

Me: I thought that was an accident.

Stella: Nope. Stinky dogs like stinky stuff.

Me: You don’t stink.

Stella: Nope. I am a bulldog, not a stinkpot.

Me: Maybe if we give them another bath in a few days.

Stella: Nope! Waste! If you want to save water and the environment, don’t bother bathing Doodlebug or Miss Sweetie.

Me: But if we don’t bathe Doodlebug and Miss Sweetie, we won’t be saving OUR environment.

Stella: Good point. Carry on. But don’t trust to hope. It has abandoned these lands.

Me: So what should we do?

Stella: Do what any sensible bulldog does. Take your paw and put it over your nose.

Don’t Push Away the Hand that Feeds You

Posted on June 28, 2016 by H.J. Hill

Imagine being blind and deaf and an orphan. You are only a few hours old. Smell, touch, and taste are the only senses that guide you. Your mouth craves something warm to suckle, but there is nothing within reach. There should be someone; your instincts tell you that, but that someone is unable to care for you, and why does not matter.

Warmth takes hold of you, not pleasant and pillowy, but skinny, bony, and grasping. You strain and wriggle against it, but it won’t let you go. It presses a strange softness against your mouth. You fight that, too. It is not as soft as it should be. It doesn’t smell right. Finally, you give up and open your lips to receive an odd liquid and your suckling instinct kicks in. The liquid does not taste quite right either, but it fills your hungry belly and now you can sleep.

All of us have been helpless. No one likes it. It is frightening. The funny thing is that often, when help comes, we resist it because we misunderstand. The help does not look like what we expected. Our instincts rebel.

I have watched tiny, un-mothered puppies fight the offer of a bottle nipple full of milk because it does not smell the way their brains say it should smell, or because there is no warm body behind it. Patience wears down the resistance though. The puppies’ survival instinct and hunger win the argument. The little dogs accept the help.

I have fought God more than once. He extended His help to me, His wisdom, His way of doing things, and I didn’t recognize it. It didn’t look, smell, or taste like what I expected or thought that I wanted. Other times, I recognized that God was behind the proffered help, but I didn’t like the shape of His solution. While I refused His help, I only delayed my own deliverance.

So what have I learned from dogs?

A wise puppy latches on even if that bottle is not his first choice.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1 KJV)

It’s 99 Degrees. Do You Know Where Your Bulldogs Are?

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

I just saw the temperature. How did it get to be 99 degrees Fahrenheit without my noticing it? When the mercury rises above 98, that’s when it gets to be a little bit warm. There was that hint in the air this morning, that heavy wet blanket dampening that makes the outdoors a place to avoid.

Oddly, each of the bulldogs in turn wanted to sunbathe this morning. Maybe they sensed the approach of the stultifying afternoon heat and decided to slurp up the kinder, gentler morning sun’s rays while the slurping was safe.

The pressure is on. The heat is rising. Living will take simpler forms for a few months. We will stroll, not rush and we will abide by simple rules.

Keep calm. Calm people and calm dogs make for a cooler life.

Drink plenty of water. Bulldogs are experts at this.

Stay in the shade. Play hide and seek with the sun as “It” and don’t let that mean old fireball find you if you can help it.

Don’t work out during the heat of the day, even if the workout is fun. Running, jumping, wrestling, and chasing are play, but they are hot play.

Take advantage of cooling vests for dogs and puppy pools. Use cooling pads. Humans, use wet scarves and cloths.

Those are just a few basics for summer.

Wait! Is that thunder I hear? The sun is cloaked with clouds. The temperature has already dropped a degree.

Praise the LORD! Now it’s only 98 degrees. Autumn must be just around the corner. All is well!

And in case I didn’t mention it, thank You, LORD, for air conditioning.

Stella’s Blog – List of Offenders

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

Hello! I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogge. I am back with my List of Offenders. I has been a while since I revealed who is causing the most trouble in my domain so my List is necessary to keep accounts straight.

From most offensive to least offensive, they are:

Tall Man – I know that Lady Human says that humans should ever be on the List of Offenders, but Queen’s Rules rule. Tall Man has been letting his new Monster Machine that Lady Human claims is a vacuum drag him through the house again and again. It is terrifying. Then he brought out the broom. That proves that the Monster Machine is not a vacuum and Lady Human is wrong. Why sweep with the broom when a vacuum has already eaten all the dirt on the floor? Dear Tall Man, please stop cleaning. Bulldogs love dirt. Thank you.

Miss Sweetie – How can one dog carry so much dirt around? Maybe she is the reason Tall Man was cleaning so much. She is the only dog using the puppy pool that Lady Human brought us and with one plunge, the water is filthy – every day! Who takes a bath every day? No wonder the rest of us don’t jump in. Who wants to share that? Miss Sweetie, take a bath! Oh…Well then, stop getting so dirty. Not rolling in dirt would be a good start.

Tiger – Of course. What else is new? Reason? Picking fights with Snoopey. What else is new? She had gotten much better about that as though she were truly growing up. She just had her 2^nd Two years is enough time for anyone to grow up. But she couldn’t help herself. She mad dogged Snoopey one day for no reason other than snootiness. Never lock eyes with a pack leader unless you are willing to apologize later.

Snoopey – Moody. Broody. Rude-y. Unbecoming in a pack leader. As Queen, I can comment unfavorably on the pack leader. Rank hath its privileges.

Everyone else had their issues this week except for me, but they were boring so there is no need to comment on them. I was perfect. As expected. As always.

Signed,

Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

What Were You Dreaming About? – Conversations with Stella

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

Stella: Hello. I am Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, here with Lady Human again. Why? I don’t know.

Me: I was watching you sleep a while ago.

Stella: That is creepy. Do you stare at the others while they are sleeping?

Me: Occasionally, but I was watching you because you were obviously dreaming and I have never seen a dog so active during sleep.

Stella: What was I doing?

Me: Your hind legs pumped as though you were running. One even jumped off the ground. Your eyelids twitched. You ruffled your lips. You huffed and puffed like you were out of breath and your sides bellowed in and out. Then your ears perked up, shifting back and forth. Your front legs stayed still, but that was the only part of you that was not engaged in whatever was going on in your head. So what was your dream?

Stella: I was wearing a crown because, you know…queen. I ran up a grassy hill, leading my people, the bulldog army. We were so many. We charged the cat because she had taken and hidden all of our treats.

Me: A whole bulldog army to chase one cat?

Stella: As the humans say, we meant business. Our treats had disappeared! They had to be rescued!

Me: Rescued so that they could be eaten by you?

Stella: Not all eaten by me. Most of them, yes because, you know…queen.

Me: So how did the battle go?

Stella: It was exciting! I was in the lead because…

Me: Yeah, I know…queen.

Stella: Now you understand. Anyway, I was running, but a bulldog with longer legs…I think it was Snoopey but it all happened so fast… passed me and others passed me and so I jumped over them. I tilted my ears left and right to direct which way the army would go. At the top of the hill I found the cat. I ruffled an order for her to leave the treats and depart. She pretended that she did not understand me and just sat licking herself as though she didn’t care. The treats were in a basket behind her. I was about to grab them with my big bulldog mouth when…I woke up. I was at home. There was no army. There were no treats. It was just a dream. Unless…

Me: Unless what?

Stella: You make my dream come true.

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