Dogfood made herself tags out of construction paper and a leash and collar out of ribbon. She “nursed” stuffed puppies (while her mom was nursing her new baby brother). She insisted on being taken for daily walks (“don’t forget the poop bags!)” She told her granny to tie her up or she might “bite” the dishwasher repairman. She barked at you if you used her real name but would talk if you called her Dogfood. She often went to all fours to get around. She took her vitamin in cheese just like my dog who was ill and had to take a lot of pills. She turned a craft table into her feeding table (my dog had a raised feeding station that was green as was her table). Food had to be prepared or cut into bone shapes. Mama and Dadda became “my owners.” She quit sleeping in her parents’ bed and started sleeping at the foot of the bed (like dogs do). She actually persuaded a nanny to buy her fake “dog fur” at a craft store and then asked her mom to make her a dog suit. She used to “chase cars” during recess at preschool. (Another parent was overheard to say: “I want to meet the mom of the girl who turned my son into a dog.”)

The mythology she invented was deep and layered and incredibly charming.

And it lasted almost a year, until she went into the ocean on vacation as Dogfood, got stung by a jellyfish, and came out of the water as Wave, the Crab. Wave lasted a week or so and then my niece came back.

As Dr. Beatrice, the vet.

She’s 10 now and totally normal, albeit still a pretty creative thinker.

Always nice to know I’m not the only one and that my kid’s boringly average. Never liked Lake Wobegon anyway.

X

Supa