Pounding Paws – Conversations with Stella

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

Me:        Mmhmm.

Stella:    Lady Human! Pound. Pound. Pound.

Me:        Oh, Stella. Why? I’m trying to take a nap.

Stella:    No! You must pay attention to me! Pound. Pound. Pound.

Me:        Please don’t pound me with your paws.

Stella:    That’s what bulldog paws are for.

Me:        I thought they were for walking and running and digging. And for scratching.

Stella:    Wrong. Your hands are for scratching us.

Me:        I was up half the night.  I just want a little nap.

Stella:    Napping is for bulldogs! Pound. Pound. Pound.

Me:        Stella, please! When I cover my shoulders with the sheet and hide my hands, that means sleep time, not petting or scratching time. See! My hands are all tucked in.

Stella:    I like your face.

Me:        Thank you.

Stella:    Here. Let me pound it.




Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.




Itchy Spots We Can’t Reach – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Scratch my back!

Me:        Okay.

Stella:    No, over there. No, over here. Now this spot. Don’t stop.

Me:        Move in closer.

Stella:    You move in closer.

Me:        Hey, I’ve got the fingernails that can reach anywhere, but I’m not putting my arm out of joint.

Stella:    Hey, I’ve got the itchies that can reach anywhere, but I’m already sitting over here.

Me:        Hold on.

Stella:    What are you doing?

Me:        All this scratching is making me itchy. I can’t reach down the center of my back either.

Stella:    You’re funny. You look like a bear rubbing against a tree.

Me:        A door frame makes a good back scratcher if nothing else is handy.

Stella:    Not so much if you’re shaped like a bulldog. Now get back to work using your fingers for what they were made for – scratching my unreachable itchies.




Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Love Taps – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. One of my favorite things is when Lady Human and I spend quiet time alone. She pets me and scratches my itchy spots and massages my shoulders and scratches my back and rubs my ears and… hey, why are you stopping?

Me:        Places to go. People to see.

Stella:    What places? Where? What people? Who?

Me:        I have stuff I’ve got to do. We can meet again later.

Stella:    1…2…3…okay, later is now.

Me:        I know, Stella. I enjoy quiet time, too. But who is going to grocery shop and clean y’all’s bowls and wash the clothes…

Stella:    I don’t wear clothes. Let them wash themselves. Pet me. Scratch me.

Me:        Stella, let me have my hand.

Stella:    Pet me. Scratch me.

Me:        Stella, let my arm go.

Stella:    Never. Pet me. Scratch me. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Me:        You have no idea how heavy your paws are.

Stella:    Yes, I do. Tap. Tap. Tap. Stay here. Pet me. Scratch me. LOVE ME!

Me:        Isn’t cleaning your bowls love?

Stella:    Maybe, but it doesn’t feel as good.




Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.





Your Idea of Fun Vs. My Idea of Fun – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and today has not been a very fun day and I feel the need to complain.

Me:        Is there ever a time you do not feel the need to complain?

Stella:    Certainly, Lady Human. Whenever I get to have as much fun as you humans do.

Me:        Every day is bulldog fun day.

Stella:    Nope. Today wasn’t. You and Tall Man went and came and came and went. You went somewhere…

Me:        Church.

Stella:    Nope. You were gone way too long for church. I timed you.

Me:        How?

Stella:    With my belly. When breakfast is digested, you get home from church.

Me:        Well, there was a church fellowship today so I stayed longer for that.

Stella:    And what did they have at this thing called a ‘fellowship’?

Me:        Brisket…

Stella:    Meat?

Me:        Yes. And they had sausage…

Stella:    More meat?

Me:        Yes. And bread…

Stella:    More meat?

Me:        No. But they had ice cream treats.

Stella:    And then?

Me:        A bounce house…

Stella:    I like those.

Me:        You have never been in one and they were for the kids. No dogs allowed.

Stella:    No fair! I’ll bet you had fun.

Me:        Yes, I’ll admit I did.

Stella:    Where was my fun today? Boo-hoo-hoo. Nowhere. That’s where.

Me:        All right, what’s your idea of fun?

Stella:    You scratching and rubbing my neck, between my ears, my belly, my back…

Me:        In other words, what we do every day.

Stella:    Yep. You’ve had your fun for the day. Now it’s time for mine.



Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Strike! Strike! Strike! – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and something hilariously bulldoggy has just occurred. It should be written down in the annals of bulldogdom.

Me:        Well, I don’t think it’s very funny.

Stella:    You don’t have much of a sense of humor, Lady Human. You should work on that.

Me:        My sense of humor doesn’t match bulldog humor, I guess.

Stella:    It sure doesn’t. Bulldog humor is funny.

Me:        Explain to me how it is funny that Wiggles refuses to move.


Stella:    She’s on strike! I can’t stop laughing.

Me:        I can’t move her! She weighs 80 pounds! Oh, now look! She’s rolled over on her back.

Stella:    Pay no attention. She’ll get tired of the game and get up. Eventually. Until then, just step over her.

Me:        Here. Let me scratch your belly, Wiggles. Is that what you want?

Stella:    No! Lady Human! Don’t give in! Don’t offer a bribe!

Me:        Is that what I’m doing when I give you a treat?

Stella:    No, that’s an act of love. But when Wiggles is on strike in the middle of the floor, on her back, showing her belly, that’s a bribe demand. She’s saying, ‘Scratch my stomach or live with an immovable bulldog in the middle of your floor forever’. She will control you for life. Anytime she wants something, she will flip over and make like a rock. A big, heavy, bulldog-shaped rock.

Me:        Here. Let me toss a treat over there. Maybe she’ll go for it.

Stella:    Treat tossing! Is that the way to break a bulldog strike?

Me:        It’s working. She’s going after it.

Stella:    Not fair! Okay, fine! I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogs, am officially on strike! Boom! Not moving until I get my due.

Wiggles:  Don’t be fooled, Lady Human. She doesn’t know how to strike.

Me:        Why did you strike, Wiggles?

Wiggles:  You’ve been real busy lately and I haven’t had a good long belly scratch in a while so…

Me:        I’m sorry, girl. I wasn’t paying enough attention. You had to make a demand.

Stella:    Hey! Over here! Look at me! A bulldog rock! STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE!

Me:        What should I do about this?

Wiggles:  I would not give into her demands if I were you, Lady Human. You’ll never hear the end of it. She’ll go on strike every day. As for me, I’m reasonable.


Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.