Curfew Violator – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and once again, Lady Human has broken her curfew.

Me:        I am a grown human. I have no curfew. Besides, I went to the grocery store at 3:30 in the afternoon.

Stella:    And you said when you left that you would not be gone long. But you were gone long. And do you know what happened while you were gone? Big booms and light flashes in the sky. And rain hit the glass squares in the wall like buckets of water being thrown by a giant.

Me:        That’s an interesting image, Stella.

Stella:    A giant insect.

Me:        Ohhh-kay. Well, the same storm hit the store where I was. That is why I was delayed. The wind blew the heavy rain sideways, so thick and fast that we couldn’t see the parking lot. It was wrapped in gray. It looked like a hurricane.

Stella:    What would have happened if you had never come back?

Me:        Don’t worry, girl. Tall Man would have been here after his work ends.

Stella:    There was no storm where Tall Man is?

Me:        Yes, there was.

Stella:    It was not as bad as our storm?

Me:        A little worse. They had wind and rain and hail the size of ping pong balls.

Stella:    No!!! The Great Creator must tell the sky to stop throwing ping pong balls!

Me:        I am adding that to my prayer list. Really.

Stella:    Why does the sky throw ping pong balls?

Me:        They are actually chunks of ice. You see, water starts to come down through the atmosphere. Way up there, it is very cold and the water freezes; then another wind pushes the ice back up where it gets coated with another layer of water which also freezes, and that keeps on happening until the ice chunk is heavier than the upper wind can support and it falls to the ground…

Stella:    Boring! I mean why can’t the sky throw flowers or real ping pong balls that we could chase or…treats! That would be useful and it wouldn’t hurt if someone got hit by them!

Me:        Things aren’t set up that way. Flowers don’t fall from the sky. They grow from the ground.

Stella:    I think that should be different. I think ping pong ice should not fall from the sky. Flowers should.

Me:        Is that your bulldog plan?

Stella:    Yes.

Me:        Have you figured out how this will take place?

Stella:    No. I am letting you and the Great Creator work that out.

Me:        That is wise. I think that I will turn that over to Him. He is much better at planning how the earth works than I am.

Stella:    Probably a good idea, Lady Human. I have seen how you plan things.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Where Are The Stars? – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, but that makes no difference to the sky. One minute it’s dark. The next minute it lights up with a blue flash. Then it goes dark again.

Me:        Do you feel that?

Stella:    The wind is rising. It feels good. Where are the stars?

Me:        Hidden by clouds. It’ll be almost 20 degrees cooler by morning.

Stella:    Does the blue flashing light make the air colder?

Me:        No.

Stella:    What is the light?

Me:        We call it ‘lightning’. It is electricity.

Stella:    Did the Great Creator make it?

Me:        Yes, I believe so. When I see it, it makes me think of Him.

Stella:    It scares me a little.

Me:        Me, too. God is great. He can be scary, too. But He is love.

Stella:    Is electricity dangerous?

Me:        Sure.

Stella:    Then why are we standing out here in it?

Me:        It’s not here quite yet. Look at the chickens. They know. They’re getting their last feed in before the storm hits.

Stella:    They aren’t usually out this far after dark.

Me:        They sense that they may have to stay in their chicken house for a while. This storm is supposed to pass by in a few hours.

Stella:    Will we be all right?

Me:        By God’s good grace and mercy, yes.

Stella:    How can you be sure?

Me:        Well, He and I have had a few adventures together. I’ve never found Him to be absent or lacking. I’ll have to tell you sometime about the Supercell storm my daughter and I outran 2 years ago. He was with us that day.

Stella:    What if He has gone on vacation, the way the humans do?

Me:        He never slumbers or sleeps. And He doesn’t go on vacation. He is always God.

Stella:    Even now, with the sky all lit up like blue fire?

Me:        Especially now. But He does expect us to use the sense He gave us, so let’s go on inside. Do you feel that? The rain is starting.

Stella:    It feels like a shower except colder.

Me:        Yes. Except colder.

Stella:    Let’s go in now! Nobody likes cold showers!

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

Why Am I Peeing in the Rain? – Conversations with Stella

Me:        Why are we talking about bathroom issues again, Stella?

Stella:    Do you pee in the rain?

Me:        No, well, I’m not going to say never. I have been camping in the wilderness before, but…

Stella:    Well, I have for the last three days. So have we all, we bulldogs that is. If you get to pee inside when it rains, so should we.

Me:        The logistics are a little difficult.

Stella:    Logistics? Is that a word that means ‘peeing in the rain’? Because we want an indoor toilet. Humans understand these things. I know. I heard that man singing on the Picture Box about peeing in the rain.

Me:        Wait! When was that?

Stella:    That old singing movie you watch all the time on the Picture Box. He dances and sings about peeing.

Me:        No. No. No. No. He’s not ‘peeing in the rain’. He’s singing in the rain. Do you need your ears cleaned?

Stella:    Oh, that makes more sense because he seems happy and I am never happy and I never dance when I pee in the rain. I thought it was odd that you kept watching a movie about peeing in the rain when I never see humans do that.

Me:        I am sorry about the continued rain. It is supposed to start drying out tomorrow. Honestly, an indoor toilet for the bulldogs is not an option.

Stella:    Then somebody needs to tell Wiggles. She thinks the whole indoor/outdoor thing is a personal choice.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Stella’s Blog – No Barking at Breakfast

Hello! I am Stella, Queen (Yes, QUEEN) of the Olde English Bulldogges. Welcome once again to my blog. I like blogging because I have much to say on every subject, even subjects I know nothing about.

The sky has been crying a lot. Rain, the humans call it. But I am dry and comfortable. Why? Because I do not dance in the water like Miss Sweetie and Doodlebug. They are silly puppies and come back in the house painted with mud and who knows what else. I am dignified and all grown up and…oh, what’s that? The cat is running and I must catch her!  Aaaagghh! I slid on the floor. Missed chance! Where was I? Ah, I am a dignified grown-up and I don’t do silly things.

Which is why I want to complain about barking at breakfast.

I like a nice, quiet morning. Breakfast comes after outdoor potty time (take note, Miss Sweetie – outdoor potty time. There is no official indoor potty time ever.) Lady Human calls our food time “The Hallelujah Breakfast Club” and she eats with us. Not the same food  out of our bowls. I would not like that. Everybody, stay out of my bowl! I don’t want your dirty mouths in it. That goes double for Lady Human. I have no idea what humans eat or chew on. I don’t even want to think about it.

I have noted way too much loud bulldog talk during breakfast. Tiger is the biggest loudmouth. If I can wait patiently for my bowl to be filled, why can’t you,Tiger? And Doodlebug does not have to put his five pennies in either.

(Pause for consultation with transcriptionist)

 Two cents. I have been informed that the human expression is two cents. Very well. Two cents. It sounded more like five to me.

The point is they have nothing to say and it is too early to be listening to loud noises. Barking should be used for emergencies only, such as strangers, hurry up bathroom runs, Moon the Cat, and singing the song of our people.

So please, everyone, dogs and people, keep the barking down in the mornings. The only sound that we should hear is bulldog mouths chomping our food. Humans may stay if they eat silently.

Thank you for your kind attention. That is all.

Signed,

Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Conversations with Stella – The Crying Sky

Me:        Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, is back for another conversation about her important question of the day. So what has you perturbed today, Stella?

Stella:   First of all, QUEEN STELLA to you. Others may call me “Your Majesty”.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:   The sky has been crying too much.

Me:        We have been having a wet spring.

Stella:   Why?

Me:        It would take a long to explain and I’m not sure you would understand. I ‘m not sure that I do. Some years are rainy and some are dry.

Stella:   Is the sky sad?

Me:        The sky doesn’t have emotions like that. There are a lot of things going on up there.

Stella:   Is the Creator angry? I heard the big booms over and over again the past few nights. And light was flashing outside.

Me:        Those were thunderstorms. The Creator is far more powerful than a thunderstorm. We can’t even imagine how powerful. If the Creator were angry with us, a thunderstorm would be the least of our concerns.

Stella:   It was scary.

Me:        But you were safe even though something scary was going on.

Stella:   Snoopey was so stupid. She started barking and all that did was make things louder.

Me:        The storms frighten her, too. She was just trying to warn us.

Stella:   Stupid Snoopey! Barking at the sky!

Me:        But you were scared, too.

Stella:   Yes, but I didn’t bark like a silly head. I hunkered down in my bed and covered my face like a smart dog. Lady Human, you talk to the Creator, don’t you?

Me:        Yes, it’s called prayer.

Stella:   I thought so because sometimes you are talking when no humans are around and you aren’t talking to me or the bulldogs. Or to that silly cat. Would you ask the Creator to stop the sky from crying so much and so loudly?

Me:        I’m not going to ask for the rain to stop. We need it for the lakes and rivers and fields. Summer is coming. But I can ask for moderate rain, not so much all at once.

Stella:   Is the Creator mean?

Me:        No, He is kind.

Stella:   Then why are there scary thunderstorms?

Me:        Maybe He allows them so we will remember to look up.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Hey, Sky! Give Me a Drink!

We have bulldogs that like to play with water, whether from a hose or a squirt bottle, and we have bulldogs that stay away from that sort of frivolity, thank you all the same. A quiet drink lapped from a bowl is just fine for them. They may be willing to tolerate the occasional bath, just don’t make it a habit.

A rain shower came up suddenly while some of the dogs were outside. One wanted to return to the house right away. When I realized it was raining, I found her waiting by the door. She rushed in, glad to have escaped the falling sky water. Still the others didn’t come and I went looking for them.

They were rolling in the gathering water by the chicken run and, when I called, they looked at me with the surprised, disappointed expressions of kids called in for the night after playing on a summer evening. Awwww! Noooo! Not yet!

Well, I wasn’t going to get all wet while they were finishing their fun. It wasn’t cold. There was no lightning. Oh, well. I went back into the house, calculating how many towels would be enough to intercept the dripping from two waterlogged bulldogs.

When I looked out the door again, the stragglers had arrived and, behold, one of them had her head tilted back with her wide open bulldoggy mouth catching a thin stream of rainwater as it cascaded from the valley in the roof.

Of course, before I could swing my camera up and snap a picture, she had stopped. Enough sky water for then.

I would like to drink pure water from a fountain. Not sure about the roof thing. Maybe if it had a strainer. Bulldogs don’t over think joys like drinking rain as it falls from the sky. I need to work on accepting life’s gifts freely as the gifts of God that they are. Not every drink of water needs to be confined to a glass.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

A Little Rain Must Fall

My mother often employed the old expression, “Into every life, a little rain must fall.” She never knew a bulldog or she would have realized that they reject that sentiment utterly. Like oil and water, rain and bulldogs don’t mix.

Our most recent interactions with a morning-long downpour went something like this:

Snoopey. I knew what was going to happen, but I tried anyway. “Come on, girl, outside quick! It’s a little slower now.” She took five steps toward the open door. Nope! Recognizing the wet mess, she whirled around, ran into her crate, and hunkered down.

Okay, next?

Stella didn’t even lift her head. She opened her eyes, glanced at the door, and closed them again. Nope! I generally know when not to waste my time.

Okay, next?

Wiggles. Sweet, sweet Wiggles. I hustled her through the door before she knew what was going on in the world of weather. (Not always quick on the uptake is Wiggles, but as I said, really, really sweet). She halted just outside, cast a longing look over her shoulder at the dry house, sighed, went “oh, well”, and trotted into the yard to get it over with which she did in double quick time. Back inside, she performed the mandatory ceremonial shaking of the coat.

Okay, next?

Tiger. Eager and quick, she ran to the door, skidding to a halt, cartoon style, with all four legs fighting off the soaked threshold. Nope! Oh, come on, Tiger! I gave her a push from behind, but the feet were planted. Nope! I gave up. Some bulldog battles aren’t worth fighting. She flipped around and rushed into her crate, not even detouring for a morning snarl match with Snoopey. That’s how serious avoiding this rain business was.

We all face trials. Some are easier than others to confront. Our attitudes make the difference in how well we come through it.

“…count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.” James 1:2-3 KJV

Like the bulldogs, I don’t always count rain or some other delay or temptation a joy, but if I let it, it does teach patience. And none of the fussing over it stopped a single drop of rain from falling. We all eventually got a little wet.

  

©2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.