Woofy and Meowy

I asked our girl yesterday, "Do you want to come with me to church to get your brother from Youth Alive, or do you want to stay here with Daddy?"

"I want to go get Woofy," she said.

For just a second, I wasn't sure what she meant. Then I remembered that she is "Meowy" and he is "Woofy" when the two of them play Animal Rescue, an amusement they cooked up based on their individual interests—his in rescue vehicles and hers in animals.

They play AR daily, often first thing in the morning and again when "Woofy" returns from kindergarten. In fact, they're playing right now.

As you might imagine, "Woofy" is the alpha dog, providing leadership in dreaming up dramatic rescues in which elephants are hauled to the animal hospital in the back of Army jeeps or lions are carried off in aerial ladder trucks. (The fact that I know what an aerial ladder truck is frightens me just a little.)

While the throaty siren sounds "Woofy" is extremely skilled at making sometimes get annoying, the cooperation between the two of them to find something mutually satisfying to do together is more than worth tolerating a few loud whoops and wails.