You’re All Wet! – Conversations with Stella

I AM STELLA, QUEEN OF THE OLDE ENGLISH BULLDOGGES! HERE ME ROAR!

Me:        Is that what that noise was? I thought you were choking on something. What a relief!

Stella:    Silence, peasant!

Me:        Excuse me?

Stella:    You are excused.

Me:        Stella, remember? “No rude, no crude, no bulldog mood.”

Stella:    Yes, I remember. Sounds like something a human would say.

Me:        It is.

Stella:    You are all wet. You are dripping on the floor. How come?

Me:        Miss Sweetie and I had a difference of opinion about whether or not she would take a bath. I won. And I lost.

Stella:    Hahaha! Well, she does smell better. So I think we all won. But you are still all wet.

Me:        I’ll dry out. One of the great things about being human is our ability to change clothes. One of the great things about wrestling Miss Sweetie over a bath is that I get a wonderful physical workout. 70 pounds of bulldog pulling this way and that makes me work for my victory.

Stella:    Any day Miss Sweetie smells good is a victory for all of us. Congratulations!

Me:        That reminds me. You are about due for a bath yourself.

Stella:    Whaaagggttt? Naw. It wasn’t that long ago. You are all wet.

Me:        So if I dry out and give you a bath, you are saying that I will be all wet again?

Stella:    Well, not on purpose. But yes, on purpose. Have you seen my shake and roll?

Me:        Uh-huh.

Stella:    I can sling it. Yeah, I can. Do you doubt it?

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    I am going to get a bath, am I not?

Me:        Yep. And that’s not a bad thing, my friend.

Stella:    It’s all right in the aftermath. Or afterbath.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Shaken and Stirred

The winds have been up for the past several days, gusting to thunderstorm strength at times, flexing anything flexible and cracking a few things that weren’t. A good shaking now and then sorts things out. Loose items get rearranged so they can be picked up and secured. Weak tree limbs lose their places and new growth appears. A strong shaking lets you know a change is coming.

High winds shake the bulldogs, too. Stella was rock-solid as usual, napping and eating and eating and napping. (Is that stability or laziness?)

Tiger, Snoopey, and Wiggles have been at their wits’ end, jumping (more than usual), charging around the yard (more than usual), and staring at the trees and barking. They are tense, agitated, and unable to settle down.

They focus on me as though I have the answer. What is it? When will it end? Probably when the thunderstorms come through tomorrow or the next day, not that thunderstorms are peaceable. At least I have the advantage of access to weather forecasts. I try to calm them down, but they don’t calm down. There are forces working beyond their understanding and they refuse to be comforted.

In Doggy Study Hall yesterday, Snoopey pressed into my side so hard that she almost bowled me over. I wrapped my arms around her. Experts tell us that dogs don’t like to be I hugged, that it goes against their self-defenses and makes them feel uncomfortable. I agree, but Snoopey broke that rule. She sat still and looked at me calmly as I let my arms lay lightly on her shoulders. She didn’t fidget while we were sitting there. The winds continued to blow.

I don’t like getting shaken up. I enjoy calm and peace and stability. Those have been in short supply lately. Everywhere I look, everyone I talk to is experiencing a shaking – changes, alterations, adjustments, some good but some not so good.

After the shaking winds die away, the dogs will resume their stolid bulldog expressions and I will look around at all the things that were knocked loose, but more importantly, at all the things that stayed in place – what remained strong, what lasted.

“Wherefore we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear…” Hebrews 12:28 KJV

 

© 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.