Stella in Broken Arrow, OK

(NOTE: My screenwriter says youse need to read this like you been binge streaming The Sopranos. Cue the theme music: heavy bass, slow zoom on me struttin’ down the Jersey Tulsa sidewalk like I own every inch of it.)

Da name is Stella. Stella “2 Patella” Mortadella is what they call me down at the neighborhood bodega. You mighta heard of me. I’m the Capo – the enforcer – for the Cavalieri mob. We specialize in crimes of passion. My particular MO (da foster lady says that Latin for modus operandi) is suffocating my victims with love and kisses. She also says I’m a force, the Cavalieri crew’s top enforcer of affection overwhelm. My weapon of choice? Kisses. My motive? Love (and good treats, naturally). My alibi? Always airtight.

Let’s get somethin’ straight right off the bat: if you’re a man, I prefer you sittin’ down until I’ve conducted my security check. I gotta make sure you’re unarmed, relaxed, and ideally carryin’ contraband snacks. Once I confirm you’re clean — or better yet, loaded with treats — then we can talk cuddles, kisses, maybe even a little supervised belly rub. Standing men? Suspicious. Sitting men with treats? Familia! The minute you sit down, I’m droppin’ the tough girl act and curlin’ up like you’re my favorite underboss.

At my foster compound, I run a tight operation. Me and my crew conduct “nap practice” — tactical recharging — in the gated dining room until the humans return. When they walk through that door? Boom! The love mob mobilizes. I run my crew like the seasoned capo I am: cuddle drills, high speed zoomie operations, all executed with military precision.

And I got crew requirements: I like runnin’ with dogs my age who can keep up, or seniors who still got a little fire, humans who understand loyalty is earned (with snacks), capisce?

Mealtime? Listen, I ain’t a growler. I’m a ghost. One second the bowls are all full — next second it’s a cold case. No witnesses. No evidence. No regrets. You might wanna feed me separately from the other residents at first. And I’m a hearty eater. None of that picky stuff.

The massage part of dis bath thing is nice and I don’t mind a good brushing, but those hair dryers? Fuggedaboutit! They’re loud, unpredictable, and probably workin’ for the Feds.

I’m housebroken like a made woman — out at daylight, meals, every few hours, then bedtime. And you’re comin’ with me. I gotta guard you from intruders, suspicious objects, and anything that looks like it might owe me money.

I’m fast, really fast for a dog that’s been kneecapped. Yeah, I’ve been “kneecapped.” Not mob style — congenital. But the rescue folks brought in a surgeon who’s basically the Michael Corleone of orthopedics. Two kneecaps – patellas – repaired and ready for another 100,000 miles. Now I run, jump, and spin like I’m dodgin’ a RICO charge. You’ll need a fenced yard. A secure fenced yard. I got wheels like a getaway car. And make sure you don’t leave the door open. I can outrun you and the FBI.

This leash thing ain’t too bad. I’m learnin’ the ropes — sniffin’ everything, takin’ my time with strangers. A training class? That’s like a corporate retreat for me. I’m smart, motivated, and ready to rise through the ranks.

My offer to you:

If you want a dog  equal parts sweetheart, street legend, and professional treat inspector,

if you want loyalty thicker than Sunday gravy

if you want kisses that hit harder than a union dispute…

I’m ready to make you family.

Just remember: Men sit first. Treats out. Respect the process.

If you are looking for a bright, energetic young girl with great disposition and lots of enforced affection (yes, that means leaping in your arms and pinning you to the sofa), fill out the online application and contact Janis Stauffer at okstauffer@AOL.com. Her guy will get with my guy.

Online Application