White Dog rolled her eyes. "Really?" she said as she looked at YoYoMa's dinner bowl...Steve had just brought it in from the back corner of the yard. "Must EVERYTHING be a toy for her?"
"Her" was Zsofia who was singled out for blame mostly based on the fact that as Steve held Yo's bowl, she was trying to slink past with her own bowl in her mouth.
Of course, Steve tried to grab it and take it away. Of course, Zsofia thought this was a wonderful extension of the fun as she dodged and darted to avoid capture.
Then she headed outside...with her bright purple "Go Slo" bowl.
Which added ANOTHER twist to the game...loping around the yard to keep away from dad. But staying close enough to encourage him to continue the quest. After a bit, Steve came in, beaten. "I'll just go out and get when she comes in," he said, slightly out of breath. The White Dog Army nodded in understanding. They all have been part of games with our darker shade of white energizer pup.
Zsofia clanged through the dog door, still carrying her bowl. She looked around but got no looks of interest or movements toward picking up the game. She sighed and came over to sit by me.
And handed me the bowl.