Happy 3rd Birthday, Tiger! – Conversations with Stella and the Pack

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, hereby declare today HAPPY TIGER BIRTHDAY!

Me:        You mean that Tiger is happy?

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Stella:    No, Tiger is always serious. Except around Tall Man. And you sometimes, Lady Human.

Me:        So, what you are really declaring is that today is Tiger’s Birthday. Happy Birthday, Tiger!

Tiger:     Thank you!

Me:        Special treat disbursement in honor of Tiger’s birthday!

Stella:    Yea! Happy Birthday, Tiger!

Miss Sweetie:    Yea! Happy Birthday!

Doodlebug:   Yea! Happy Birthday!

Wiggles:   Oh, boy! What is it called? Happy Burpday!

Me:        Snoopey?

Snoopey:   Okay, yeah, whatever.

Me:        Snoopey, wish Tiger a happy birthday.

Snoopey:   Why should I? She yells at me all the time. She prisses around and gives me the stink eye. Maybe I just don’t like her. Maybe I just don’t want to wish her a ‘happy’ birthday.

Stella:    Are we having cake?

Me:        No, just bulldog treats.

Stella:    Wait, what? Are you taking some of our bulldog treats?

Me:        No, you all are having treats. Not me.

Stella:    Not even human cake?

Me:        I’ve cut back on human cake. I don’t even necessarily have cake on my own birthday.

Stella:    That’s sad, Lady Human. Not as sad as taking our treats, but still sad.

Me:        There are lots of ways to celebrate birthdays. It doesn’t have to be with food.

Stella:    Bite your tongue! But only if it tastes good.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t Be An Attention Hound! – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, the one and only Illustrious Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Nobody appointed me. Nobody elected me. I just came this way.

First of all, let me say that I do not get enough attention…

Me:        Haha! As if!

Stella:    As if what, Lady Human?

Me:        It’s just an expression. It means that I doubt what you just said.

Stella:    How rude! Who would know better than I if I am getting enough attention or not? I know when I am being fed, being petted, being talked to – not that “Do this, Stella!” and “Don’t do that, Stella!” human nonsense talk but actual conversation about food, and treats, and what is that scary thing on the Picture Box, and…

Me:        Life’s important issues.

Stella:    Exactly.

Me:        You are an attention hound.

Stella:    I beg your pardon.

Me:        Granted.

Stella:    No, I mean how dare you call me a hound of any kind? I am a bulldog. There is no mistaking us for any other kind of dog. If I am an attention anything, it would be an attention…sponge. Yes. A sponge that soaks up all the attentiony goodness and keeps soaking it in until I am full and the attention starts leaking out all over the ground. Attention sponge. That’s me!

Me:        So right now, you are not full of attention and leaking?

Stella:    Right now, I am as dry as a bone. Bone. Now there’s an idea. I could go for one of those about now.

Me:        Would that fill your attention quota?

Stella:    Quota? You use such strange words. Would I be a leaky sponge if I had a bone? No. But add in a shoulder massage and a tummy rub (not one of those one, two, three, and you’re done sort of tummy rubs either), a few treats and a head rub, and throw in one of those long, boring human stories you like to tell…

Me:        Boring?

Stella:    It’s you and me, Lady Human. Don’t worry. I don’t expect it to be exciting.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Watch Your Mouth! – Conversations with Stella

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, salute you, humans! I am here in support of what you call ‘free speech’. Rahrrrh! Grreghhh! Free Speech! Free Speech! Free Speech!

Me:        Stella?

Stella:    Free Speech! Free Speech! Free Speech!

Me:        Stella!

Stella:    Don’t silence my free speech, Lady Human! Now where was I? Free Speech! Free Speech! Free Speech!

Me:        Stella, hello!

Stella:    Lady Human, you are interrupting my freedom of speech. That is what you humans call ‘unmerico’!

Me:        The word you are searching for is ‘un-American’. And freedom of speech is not just walking around shouting ‘free speech’ over and over again. There is a lot more to it than that.

Stella:    What?

Me:        Responsibility. Truth. Courage. Clarity. Wisdom. Honor.

Stella:    Words, words, words. Blah, blah, blah. BORING! Free Speech! Free Speech! Free Speech!

Me:        Stella, you are being so loud!

Stella:    That’s what they all say when you are saying what they do not want to hear.

Me:        What are you saying that I don’t want to hear?

Stella:    I thought I was clear. Free Speech! Free Speech! Free Speech!

Me:        If this is a ploy to do more empty barking, it won’t work.

Stella:    You cannot stop our bulldog mouths. Free Speech! Free…

Me:        Oh, what’s this? A fresh package of your favorite treats. Let me just open this up and…

Stella:    Here! Right in my mouth! Now!

Me:        So, free speech can be silenced.

Stella:    Free what? Oh, whatever. Free treats! Free treats! Free treats!

Me:         Didn’t you have something you wanted to say?

Stella:    Not now, Lady Human! I’m too busy chewing.

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

The Humans Are Hogging The Food – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella. Yes, I am Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, but I am also their watchdog. I am here to report that humans are food hogs.

Me:        I beg your pardon.

Stella:    As indeed you should.

Me:        What food are we humans hogging?

Stella:    All of it except the little dabs that you put in our bowls.

Me:        Again, I beg your pardon…

Stella:    Be patient. I am still considering it.

Me:        You each receive the same amount, the recommended amount so you are neither too fat nor too lean. So there.

Stella:    Why is it that humans eat all day long and well into the night when we only get fed once a day? You have breakfast AND lunch AND supper AND a whole string of treats AND special drinks in addition to water. Lady Human, I protest. We bulldogs are deprived.

Me:        You don’t look deprived.

Stella:    Are you calling us ‘fat’?

Me:        No, I am calling you healthy and well-fed.

Stella:    And how about you?

Me:        I… maybe should cut back on a few things.

Stella:    Cut back means only 6 meals a day and 3 treats?

Me:        All right. Maybe more than a few. I don’t eat 6 meals a day.

Stella:    You haven’t been keeping count. We can help. You can share your hoarded food with us. We will be happy to gobble it up to help you stay healthy the way you help us to stay healthy – by depriving us of 6 meals a day.

Me:        I still think you’re wrong about the 6 meals a day.

Stella:    I have 4 paws. Each paw has 4 toes. This paw plus these 2 toes makes 6. If you start eating more than 16 meals per day, I must start using my tail, my two ears, and my two bulldog upside down vampire fangs. Please don’t make me count higher than 21. I will run out of parts.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Stupid Awards – Human Edition – Conversations with Stella

Hello, dogs, humans, and…cats…if any are interested in this which I doubt. Anyway, there are no cats on the Stupid Awards list this time. I find that almost inexplicable. Still, it is my list.

Me:        Is this that award where you get a treat whenever someone wins the award so it is just about you getting more treats?

Stella:    Those are the rules.

Me:        Solely to refresh my memory, are the awards stupid or are the recipients stupid?

Stella:    Both. Now for the first Stupie…

Me:        Stupie? Oh, I forgot. That’s the award’s nickname. Please go on.

Stella:    I was about to when I was so rudely interrupted. Ahem. The first Stupie goes to…. drrrrrrrrrruhhhh…

Me:        What?

Stella:    That is a drum roll. I heard it on the Picture Box. We do not have a drummer so I will do that part myself. Ahem, the first Stupie goes to ALL HUMANS LOUDLY TALKING POLITICS ON THE PICTURE BOX ABOUT THE HUMAN ELECTION NONSENSE! Tada!!! All treats go to me. How many will that be, Lady Human?

Me:        I have no idea. Is it limited to candidates or do moderators and commentators count, too?

Stella:    ALL HUMANS. LOUDLY TALKING. POLITICS. PICTURE BOX. ELECTION NONSENSE.

Me:        Is “Picture Box” limited to television? Or does that include the internet and social media?

Stella:    I have no idea what you are talking about.

Me:        Because that could be in the millions. Quite frankly, I cannot foot that kind of bill for dog treats.

Stella:    Well, we can work out a deal on that later.

Me:        Are there any other Stupies to be given out now?

Stella:    Quite a few. There is never a shortage of human stupidity.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Unfair Disbursement – Conversations with Stella

I, Queen Stella the Illustrious Olde English Bulldogge, hereby issue a decree: the humans shall guarantee that each bulldog shall receive the same quantity of treats, no exceptions. Well, one exception and that’s me.

Me:        Everybody gets a treat at the same time so it’s all fair.

Stella:    No, it’s not. Not all is fair in love and treats. I heard a human say that.

Me:        I doubt any human ever said that. They probably said something like ‘all is fair in love and war’.

Stella:    Precisely. That’s what I said.

Me:        I don’t think so…

Stella:    Love. Treats. Fair. War. Yep. I love my treats and if you are not fair, I will go to war for my treats.

Me:        What has brought this on?

Stella:    The chicken jerky treats are not being evenly distributed.

Me:        I break the strips up and make sure that each of you gets a piece.

Stella:    How do you break them up?

Me:        I snap them with my fingers.

Stella:    And your fingers have measuring marks on them?

Me:        Uh, no.

Stella:    So how do you know how much Snoopey is getting compared to me?

Me:        They look about the same length…

Stella:    You are guessing!

Me:        I’m pretty close each time.

Stella:    Pretty close is not close.

Me:        They are approximately the same size.

Stella:    Wrong! What does ‘approximately’ mean? If Snoopey gets one millimeter more per day for 10 days, that means I was cheated 10 millimeters. In 100 days, you owe me 10 centimeters of chicken jerky. That is almost 4 inches of chicken jerky! It adds up fast.

Me:        Stella, what have you been doing with yout free time? Where did you learn about millimeters and centimeters?

Stella:    Sometimes at night, Tall Man works on his projects by my crate. He has a long yellow ribbon with markings on it and he calls out numbers as he measures. It’s really fun to watch and pretty soon he has built another something that he takes away and we never see again.

Me:        He is very handy.

Stella:    No, he only has two of them.

Me:        What I mean is…never mind. I understand that you want everything to be evenly divided. When I was a kid, a cousin of mine always wanted to divide any candy bar we got and he always made sure that his piece was a little bigger than mine. I thought it was very unfair, but when I complained, he gobbled up his piece, destroying the evidence.

Stella:    He sounds like a true treat lover. My kind of human. But you see my point about fairness.

Me:        I see your point. Here is mine. If I have to measure jerky treats to the nearest millimeter, it is going to slow treat distribution to a crawl. And then there’s the question of how thick each treat is. You wouldn’t want to get a big thick piece while poor Snoopey got a thin slice, would you?

Stella:    Mmmm, I wouldn’t mind that so much.

Me:        Fair?

Stella:    I could be appointed the Royal Treat Taster and pick my own.

Me:        I have a feeling that all the treats would end up in your mouth and I wouldn’t be fast enough to stop you. Maybe you should focus on gratitude for what you do get.

Stella:    Is that what you did toward your puppy cousin?

Me:        No, young humans often are unwise. Gratitude came much later.

Stella:    What did you do?

Me:         I learned to buy my own candy bars and hide them.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Spoiled Humans and Their Toys – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    A box came.

Me:        No introduction this time? No “I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges”?

Stella:    Thank you for handling that for me. A box came.

Me:        Yes.

Stella:    A box came through the door.

Me:        Yes.

Stella:    A box came through the door into the house.

Me:        Yes. This is a wonderful exercise in sentence building.

Stella:    What is a sentence?

Me:        Never mind.

Stella:    The box. Was the box for me?

Me:        No.

Stella:    Did the box have toys for me?

Me:        No.

Stella:    Did the box have treats for me?

Me:        No.

Stella:    Did the box have food for me?

Me:        No.

Stella:    Oh, no! Did the box have an undignified costume for me? Like a pumpkin?

Me:        I like bulldogs dressed as pumpkins. And ballerinas. And cowboys. And…

Stella:    No! I knew it! Where can I hide until costume season is over? Couch? No, can’t fit under there. Behind the Picture Box? No, not enough room back there.

Me:        The box is not for you.

Stella:    For Tiger then? She’s always wanted to be a ballerina.

Me:        The box was for me. It was a new laptop computer. My old one died.

Stella:    Died? I am so sorry, Lady Human. You may pet my head if it will make you feel better.

Me:        It was not a living creature. It was a machine. When I say it ‘died’, it stopped working and was not worth fixing.

Stella:    It was a toy like the ones we shredded last year. No fun, no more.

Me:        It’s a toy and it’s a tool.

Stella:    Humans have lots of toys and tools. Your hands are always doing things I don’t understand. You spend too much time playing with them. I think I should take some of them away. When the next box comes, that will be mine. You don’t need any more toys. You are spoiled.

Me:        I am spoiled?

Stella:    Yes. I saw those plush pajama pants you brought home. You can’t fool me. Those are for you, not for me.

Me:        They would not fit you.

Stella:    Are you saying that I am too fat? How rude!

Me:        No, I am saying that they are made for humans and that’s me. You may be disappointed with the next box that shows up. It will have books in it. Are you planning to learn to read?

Stella:    Books? You mean those things you hold in your lap and stare at hour after hour? I’ll take them. They look delicious.

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

When in Doubt, Spit It Out! – Conversations with Stella

Me:        Stella…Stella…Stella!

Stella:    Me…Me…Me…Yay, me! Wait? What?

Me:        Not everything that is in my hand belongs in your mouth.

Stella:    Why not?

Me:        Because not everything I hold in my hand is edible. You just tried to eat your metal rabies vaccination tag.

Stella:    I’m sorry. It was shiny and it looked delicious. Everything looks delicious to me.

Me:        You need to exercise a little self control. When you see that I am holding something, wait for me to let you know if it is for you. Don’t jump. Don’t grab.

Stella:    Aaaggghhh! But it takes so much time. Sometimes you walk around and around and do stuff and I patiently follow you to make sure you don’t lose a treat or drop it on the floor where some other bulldog may accidentally find it when it really belongs to me.

Me:        Think of it as just another human privilege. And you know that I would never let the other bulldogs deprive you of your treats. That would not be fair and I want to be fair to you all.

Stella:    Thank you, Lady Human. I think it would be fair if you let me taste test all treats from now on. I believe the others will benefit from my expert taste buds. I am a connoisseur of treats.

Me:        Oh, really?

Stella:    Yes, and I promise to exercise A LITTLE self control and not to try to eat my vaccination tags from now on.

Me:        That is very reasonable of you.

Stella:    Bulldogs are very reasonable creatures.

Me:        Well…trying to eat a metal disc…Reasonable? I’m not so sure.

Stella:    Once I would have tasted it, I would have realized that it was metal and I would have spit it out.

Me:        Now that is reasonable.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

What’s In The Bag? – Conversations with Stella

I am here with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge and, lest I forget, their Queen.

Stella:    Thank you, Lady Human, for giving me my due.

Me:        No prob, Bob.

Stella:    Who is Bob? Is he another bulldog?

Me:        Nevermind.

Stella:    What was in that bag you brought in awhile ago?

Me:        Just some special food for tonight.

Stella:    I smelled it. It is wonderful.

Me:        I noticed you working your nose.

Stella:    Did you really think that you could sneak it past me? What is it?

Me:        Barbeque beef brisket, barbeque ribs, potato salad, fried okra. That’s all.

Stella:    That’s enough. I’ll take mine right over here.

Me:        Mmmm.  I don’t think the barbeque sauce will be good for you. It might upset your stomach.

Stella:    A risk worth taking.

Me:        Nope. I’ll see if I can pull some pieces out that have no sauce on them.

Stella:    And po-ta-to salad? And fried okra?

Me:        Nope.

Stella:    Awwww.

Me:        Not worth a griping belly. Not worth itchy skin patches.

Stella:    I beg to differ.

Me:        Differ away. Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure, those treats that you call chicken bacon jerky, truth be told, there is no bacon in them.

Stella:    Yes, there is.

Me:        No, there isn’t.

Stella:    What? Not fair! Where is the bacon?

Me:        Not in those treats. Just chicken.

Stella:    It cannot be.

Me:        It is. But if knowing that fact means that you don’t like them anymore, I can always give them to the others…

Stella:    NO! That won’t be necessary. I will make the sacrifice and eat them, even without the bacon.

Me:        You don’t have to.

Stella:    It is all right. I will force myself to choke them down. By the way, do you have any of those handy?

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME and my sister, Snoopey – Stella’s Blog

Yay! It is my birthday. Lady Human told me so. She thought it was months ago, but Tall Man showed her a paper that says it is today! I am so excited, but I don’t know why. I didn’t even know what a birthday was until she told me. I just figured that I had always been.

Oh, and since Snoopey is my sister, it is her birthday, too. Apparently, puppy sisters are born at the same time. But that is not the important point. The important point is that it’s MY BIRTHDAY!

The humans count off a certain number of days and declare that to be a year and every year on the same day, they have a birthday. And so do bulldogs. I do not understand what time is or what they call calendars. I don’t believe bulldogs need such things. Every day is special. Every day is a new beginning. When the sun comes into the morning sky, all things start over.  Things happened before, but they are not as important as what is happening right now.

And right now, it’s MY BIRTHDAY!

Lady Human says that I am three years old. That does not sound like much. I think I have been around for at least 100 years,whatever a year is. (I still don’t understand that part.)  She says that I have been here with her for a little over one year.  That can’t be right. I don’t remember much about the days before I came here.It seems so long ago. Maybe those days were not as significant. Maybe I was too young to understand them.

But none of that matters because it’s MY BIRTHDAY!

So what else does a birthday mean?

Lady Human says that some humans put special shiny hats and collars and clothes on their dogs, but she is not going to do that to us. Good! It is too hot for extra clothes right now. She says that some humans give their dogs special cakes, but our tummies are too bulldog delicate for that.

She is giving all of us extra treats, good ones like sweet potato chips and chicken bacon jerky which are our favorites.

Why the non-birthday bulldogs are getting extra treats alongside us birthday girls, I don’t understand. Lady Human says it is a celebration and besides, she doesn’t know when Wiggles’ birthday is and she doesn’t want Wiggles to miss out. I guess that’s all right as long as I get my fair share. By fair share, I mean double what everyone else gets.

(And even Moon the Cat is getting her cat treats. Why? It’s not her birthday. This is a bulldog party. No cats! Oh, nevermind. I can be generous one day a year, whatever that is.)

So to everyone out there in the world, HAPPY MY BIRTHDAY! You can have your own treats, even cake if you like and it won’t hurt your stomachs. And you can sing happy songs, too. It doesn’t matter to me. I won’t hear you.

I will be thinking about my treats and how Lady Human sang to us because we are unique and I will be dreaming of my birthday next year, whatever year means. I hope it comes tomorrow.

Signed,

Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges (and Sister Snoopey who is not the Queen)

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

No Treats for the Wicked – Conversations with Stella

I, Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, will begin this conversation. I just witnessed something truly disturbing.

Me:        A giant insect? A giant lizard?

Stella:    No, worse. Why was the cat getting treats?

Me:        I give her cat treats every now and then.

Stella:    Why was the cat getting treats?

Me:        Because I wanted her to have something special.

Stella:    Why was the cat getting treats?

Me:        Sounds like your record is broken.

Stella:    No treats for cats!

Me:        I don’t give her your treats.

Stella:    What did she do to earn them?

Me:        She was just being herself.

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Stella:    That is simply wrong! She is a cat! You know how they are!

Me:        Well, what do you do to earn most of your treats?

Stella:    Not important!

Me:        Why can’t I give the cat treats just because I want to?

Stella:    Because CAT! Cats don’t deserve treats!

Me:        We get good things we don’t deserve and we don’t get some hard things that we do deserve.  We call that grace, both ways. Grace can’t be earned.

Stella:    Would you give me some grace?

Me:        When you say the word ‘grace’, you are really thinking about treats, aren’t you?

Stella:    When I say any word, I am always thinking about treats.

Me:        All you had to do was ask, Stella.

Stella:    Wait! Grace doesn’t mean a cat treat, does it?

Me:        No, I wouldn’t fool you like that. That wouldn’t be gracious.

“Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?…how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him?”  Matthew 7:9-11 KJV

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

My Heavy Crown – Stella’s Blog

As Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, I, Stella McStarFace the First, have many responsibilities.

  1. I have to guard all of my toys to make sure they aren’t misappropriated. Misappropriated is a long word that Lady Human taught me. It means stolen by bulldogs.
  1. I have to complain – loudly, using my outdoor voice in an inappropriate manner so I get maximum attention. Inappropriate is another of Lady Human’s long words. She uses those words when she stands in front of the bulldogs and talks and talks and talks, usually after someone has caused a riot or a ruckus. The speeches are pretty boring, but they increase my vocabulary so I don’t complain about them. Much. Usually I just drift off into a nap.

So what, you may ask, do I have to complain about? That list is lengthy and the                         subject for another blog post. In fact, I should include that list in a conversation with             Lady Human. That will save time. How do the humans put it? Kill two cats with one               stone.

           (Transcriptionist: No, not cats. The old expression is…oh, nevermind.)

Please ignore any interruptions by my staff. To continue –

           3. I have the primary responsibility for chasing Moon the Cat. Oh, the others pretend                 that they will, but when they come face to face with her, what do they do? They                       stare and walk on by, leaving all the real chasing for me. It is quite lazy of them and               selfish to boot. As much as I enjoy cat-chasing, the whole weight of it should not                   fall on me and my heavy head.

4. I am the bulldog representative to the humans, not just for complaining even                          though that is the most fun. The humans are pretty clueless and I let them know                    what needs to be done, such as when we need treats, and more treats, and                                  different types of treats, and more of those treats, too. I am also the taste-tester                    for all new treats. Unless it has my royal approval, it doesn’t get shared with the                      others. Of course, I don’t mind finishing off the rejects.

I am sure that I have other queenly responsibilities, but I don’t know what they are so I don’t care. Right now, I am going to exercise my prerogative to take a long nap. Being queen is a tiring business.

Signed,

Stella the First, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

The Stupid Award – Conversations with Stella

Stella:   In my authority as Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges, I hereby institute the Stupid Awards. Tah-dah! As the humans say.

Me:        Just wondering. Are the awards stupid or are the recipients stupid?

Stella:   Silence! The Queen is speaking!

Me:        Yeah, that kind of command doesn’t work on me. Human, remember?

Stella:   I am never allowed to forget. (Sigh)

Me:        I apologize, Stella. I’ll play along. Are these Stupid Awards like your List of Offenders?

Stella:   Oh, no. Offenders don’t get prizes. The Stupids will.

Me:        I can’t wait to see what they are.

Stella:   You won’t have to wait. You will be providing them.

Me:        Well…that depends…

Stella:   Each award winner will be credited with one treat of their choice, which will then be given to me.

Me:        So this is really all about you getting more treats.

Stella:   No, it is about recognizing stupidity where it lives.

Me:        There is no shortage of stupidity in the world.

Stella:   I will be happy to hand out awards for all of it. I haven’t decided what the short name for the awards should be. I am leaning toward calling them Stupies.

Me:        Who is your award winner?

Stella:   The first Stupie goes to Tiger for jumping up on your leg and digging her nail into your skin. You were wearing those pants that are missing the knee parts and she made you bleed your own blood. That was stupid.

Me:        She was not stupid. She was just excited. I think it surprised her as much as it did me.

Stella:   Drawing blood is stupid. There! I said it! I am the Queen. My decision stands. That will be one treat for me, please.

Me:        Shouldn’t you share the treat with Tiger since she won the award?

Stella:   What? Award someone for being stupid. How stupid do you think I am?

Me:        Oh, Stella, I don’t think you are stupid at all. Here’s your treat.

Stella:   Mmmmm. Sweet potato chip. Maybe I should hand out more stupid awards.

Me:        Let’s not overdo it. You don’t want to spoil your supper. By the way, what happens if you win the Stupid Award?

Stella:   Not that I ever would, but double treats for me! I win again! Yea, me!

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

What Were You Dreaming About? – Conversations with Stella

Stella:    Hello. I am Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge, here with Lady Human again. Why? I don’t know.

Me:        I was watching you sleep a while ago.

Stella:    That is creepy. Do you stare at the others while they are sleeping?

Me:        Occasionally, but I was watching you because you were obviously dreaming and I have never seen a dog so active during sleep.

Stella:    What was I doing?

Me:        Your hind legs pumped as though you were running. One even jumped off the ground. Your eyelids twitched. You ruffled your lips. You huffed and puffed like you were out of breath and your sides bellowed in and out. Then your ears perked up, shifting back and forth. Your front legs stayed still, but that was the only part of you that was not engaged in whatever was going on in your head. So what was your dream?

Stella:    I was wearing a crown because, you know…queen. I ran up a grassy hill, leading my people, the bulldog army. We were so many. We charged the cat because she had taken and hidden all of our treats.

Me:        A whole bulldog army to chase one cat?

Stella:    As the humans say, we meant business. Our treats had disappeared! They had to be rescued!

Me:        Rescued so that they could be eaten by you?

Stella:    Not all eaten by me. Most of them, yes because, you know…queen.

Me:        So how did the battle go?

Stella:    It was exciting! I was in the lead because…

Me:        Yeah, I know…queen.

Stella:    Now you understand. Anyway, I was running, but a bulldog with longer legs…I think it was Snoopey but it all happened so fast… passed me and others passed me and so I jumped over them. I tilted my ears left and right to direct which way the army would go. At the top of the hill I found the cat. I ruffled an order for her to leave the treats and depart. She pretended that she did not understand me and just sat licking herself as though she didn’t care. The treats were in a basket behind her. I was about to grab them with my big bulldog mouth when…I woke up. I was at home. There was no army. There were no treats. It was just a dream. Unless…

Me:        Unless what?

Stella:    You make my dream come true.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stella’s Blog – Humans. Why?

Hello! I am Stella, the Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. (Let’s wait a few moments to see if my transcriptionist will interrupt to say something like, “No, you’re not the queen” or “self-styled”. I don’t know what “self-styled” means, but I am sure that it is rude.)

Okay, no interruption so far. Please join me for MY blog. Today’s topic: Humans. Why?

I discussed a similar question with my blog post entitled “Why Did God Make Cats?”

The existence of humans is not nearly as confusing as the existence of cats. Actually, I still have no answer for why cats should exist. That one may be a long time in coming, but I believe the Creator will help me to understand someday. I am sure He had His reasons.

Humans are an easier question because they actually do stuff that helps dogs. (Can cats truthfully say that?)

Here’s a short list of how humans help us:

Food.

Treats.

Food.

Treats.

Did I mention food?

(Transcriptionist: Stella, you’re repeating yourself.)

Ah, our first interruption. MY BLOG, MY RULES. Where was I?

Treats.

Treats.

Treats.

What else?

Softy toys – Humans don’t really have to make them in the shape of pink and blue dogs and red lobsters. We are not fooled. We know that they are not real. People think we are stupid. Here’s a secret: We’re not the ones making pink and blue wiener dogs that don’t even have any wieners in them. Where are the wieners, humans?

Chew toys – Great for relaxing after a long day, though for many, many thousands of years, we dogs have provided our own chew toys in the form of sticks.

Soft beds – What a wonderful invention. Perfect for lazy dogs. And the humans can use them, if there is enough room.

Love – did I say that?

(Transcriptionist: Yes, you did, you sweet, smooshy- faced, old thing,)

 Well, I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out. And now you’ve gone and called me those mushy names. Please stop it. I just meant that the head pets are nice and the belly rubs. But stay away from that hugging business.

So do humans serve a purpose? The Great Creator must have thought so. (Of course, He made cats, too, and I still don’t understand that.)

They keep telling me that dog is man’s best friend.  Maybe the humans are ours.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Where Did the Treats Go? – Conversations with Stella

I am back for another conversation with Stella, the Olde English Bulldogge….

Stella:  Ahem…Queen Stella.

Me:        Ahem?

Stella:   That’s what you say when you want to interrupt politely.

Me:        I don’t believe that I have ever said “ahem” in my life.

Stella:   Exactly. I was trying to be polite. Most humans just blurt stuff out.

Me:        I’ve heard plenty of bulldogs just “blurt” stuff out. Back to the point, what is your question this time?

Stella:   Where did the treats go?

Me:        What treats?

Stella:   Yes.

Me:        There aren’t any treats.

Stella:   I agree.

Me:        I get it. There haven’t been as many over the past few days and you noticed.

Stella:   Thank you! Now we are in the same crate!

Me:        I believe the human expression you want to use is “now we are on the same page”.

Stella:   What’s a “page”?

Me:        Never mind. You observed correctly. There have been treats, but fewer of them.

Stella:   Why?

Me:        They were all gone at the store.

Stella:   Have you called the police?

Me:        No, they weren’t stolen. The store just ran out of our brand. They’re waiting for more to come.

Stella:   How could such a thing happen?

Me:        Easily. More people are buying them…

Stella:   Why are people eating our treats? They get their own human treats, the ones that they are always hiding from us. Leave our treats alone!

Me:        The humans aren’t buying your treats for themselves. They are getting them for their own dogs.

Stella:   What! Other dogs are eating our treats? How could you let them do that? Stop them!

Me:        Hey, didn’t I share one of my apple chicken sausages with you all this week? One that I cooked for myself?

Stella:   Yesss…

Me:        And wasn’t it good?

Stella:   Yesss… Will we ever see them again?

Me:        Perhaps.

Stella:   When? When? When?

Me:        When we all develop a little more patience?

Stella:   Is that something else the store is out of?

 

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.