R.I.P. Stuffed Chicken Toy, Sweetie’s Old Friend – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

Me:        It is with great sorrow and not a little trepidation that we must say farewell to Stuffed Chicken Toy who has been a great comfort and friend to Miss Sweetie. After much consideration and debate…

Stella:    And after hiding the chicken toy from Sweetie for a whole week…

Me:        …Tall Man and I have decided that we must look for a more indestructible soft toy for Miss Sweetie’s powerful jaws and overwhelming personality.

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Miss Sweetie:    Where is my chicken?

Me:        Gone to a better, a safer place, girl. Safer for you and for Stuffed Chicken Toy.

Miss Sweetie:    But why?

Tiger:     Because, silly, you insisted on tear off pieces of her.

Miss Sweetie:   But we were playing. I thought she enjoyed that.

Snoopey:   And you insisted on eating the pieces you tore off.

Wiggles:   Like the chicken’s foot, remember?

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Miss Sweetie:    Oh, yeah, the foot that disappeared.

Stella:    It only “disappeared” into you and only temporarily.

Me:        Yes, temporarily, thank the LORD.

Miss Sweetie:   You found my chicken’s foot? Where is it? Can she have it back?

Me:        We found it. Yes, she can have it back.

Miss Sweetie:    Where is it?

Me:        It is in a safe place with Stuffed Chicken Toy.

Snoopey:   A place where you can no longer eat it…again.

Miss Sweetie:   I carried her everywhere.

Me:        I know. Y’all were so cute, trundling around the house.

Miss Sweetie:    She was my bestest friend ever.

Stella:    Learn to make friends with real food. You will never go wrong.

Miss Sweetie:   Oh, Stuffed Chicken Toy. I am so sorry that I ate your foot. And your beak. And I think that’s all.

Snoopey:   You would have gotten around to the other parts soon enough.

Stella:   I have a crateful of softie toys and I never eat them.

Tiger:   Some bulldogs just can’t handle the soft stuff.

Doodlebug:   Soft toys, yuck! If you want to eat something soft, eat poop.

Me:        No, Doodlebug. We’ve had long talks about that.

Doodlebug:   Oh, yeah. But still…

Me:   Now I feel bad.

Stella:    Don’t, Lady Human. It’s for her own good.

Me:   I have to find some bulldog-proof soft toys, something she will like.

Stella:   Impossible.

Me:   Why impossible?

Stella:   You said it yourself. Bulldog-proof. Impossible.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Washing Day – Stella’s Stuff – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, and I have terrible news. I have been robbed! I don’t know if a bulldog did it or a human did it. The crime may have been committed by giant insects or the Giant Floating Enemy Balloon that came to live with us last week. All I know is that I went outside briefly, just to pee, and when I came back in, all of my bedding and toys were GONE! Snatched clean out of my crate…

Me:        Stella.

Stella:    Mwaah! Ohhh! the bulldogginess of it!

Me:        Stella.

Stella:    Why me? I’m a good dog! Why did this happen? I know! I won’t ever go outside to pee again. I will pee right here and guard my crate!

Me:        Stella!

Stella:    Wait, Lady Human. I am not finished. As queen, I will conduct a thorough investigation and find the culprit who made off with my things.

Me:        Look no further. I did it.

Stella:    What! NOOO! Why? Why? Why?

Me:        Because…

Stella:    Why? Why? Why? Can no one be trusted? Oh, the horror…

Me:        Stella, it’s all still here! It’s all in the wash. When it comes out of the washer, I’ll put it in the dryer and then back in your crate – bed, blanket, stuffie toys and all.

Stella:    But why me?

Me:        Honey, of all the bulldogges, your crate was the only spot in this whole room that smelled like…well, dog.

Stella:    That’s because I’m a dog!

Me:        So are they!

Stella:    The smell wasn’t bothering me and your nose isn’t nearly as good as mine. Why were you opposed to me smelling bulldoggy? Which I am. Bulldog me!

Me:        You will have all your stuff back before long. A couple of hours at the most.

Stella:    Show me. I want to visit my stuff. I want all the stuffies and my bed to know that they are still loved and I am here for them.

Me:        Hard to do when they are swirling around in the washer.

Stella:    Swirling?

Me:        No, never mind. They are swimming and having a good time.

Stella:    Well, all right. I can’t deny them the pleasure of swimming. But the next time I go out to pee, I am taking my crate with me.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Well, I am taking my stuffies and my bedding with me.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Well, just the stuffies.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Okay then. But I want you to put an alarm on my crate.

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Why ever not?

Me:        To guard what? The stink?

Stella:    We have already discussed that issue, Lady Human. We will just have to agree to disagree on the definition of ‘stink’.

Me:        Nope. My definition wins.

Stella:    Humans are so picky.

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.