How Do You Replace a Beloved Stuffie? – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    Whatcha doin’?

Me:        Hello, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.

Stella:    Don’t change the subject. Whatcha doin’?

Me:        Nothin’.

Stella:    All right. I asked politely. I am a dog, but I am not stupid. It is obvious that you are doing something. You have cloth on your lap and it is not clothing, or a blanket, or a napkin. So now I am demanding an answer as your queen…

Me:        MY Queen?

Stella:    What are you doing?

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Me:        I am attempting the impossible. I bought material today to put together an indestructible bulldog toy to replace Miss Sweetie’s stuffed chicken…Stella? Stella?

Stella:    Hahahahahaha! Wait…I am catching my breath…Hahahahahahahahaha!

Me:        Don’t you see that it would be better for her to have a soft toy she will like but will not be able to pull apart and swallow?

Stella:    Yes. Hahahahahahahaha! Indestructible and bulldog never fit in the same sentence. How many years do you plan on devoting to this impossible task?

Me:        Not years. A few days, off and on when I have time.

Stella:    Days? Hahahahahahahahahahaha!

Me:        Well, thank you for your support.

Stella:    You are welcome. I have all kinds of plans for how you should spend your time. First, buy me treats.

Me:        You have treats.

Stella:    I need more. Second, feed me my treats.

Me:        Takes a couple of seconds, that’s it.

Stella:    Third, scratch me and massage my shoulders until I say ‘stop’.

Me:        Which is one word that you will never say, so pretty much the rest of our lives.

Stella:    What’s the problem? It’s more fun than sewing some toy for Sweetie that she is going to destroy in a few minutes, isn’t it?

Me:        Mmmm. I’m going to have to think about that. Still, I bought all this fabric…

Stella:    I’ve been wanting a hoodie for cold weather camping.

Me:        Mmmm. 5 months or so. That might just about give me enough time. But Sweetie is without her toy. I feel sorry for her.

Stella:    Never feel sorry for a spoiled bulldog. They will control you forever. Now, scratch my belly!

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

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.