Timmy

I was just wiping the shaving cream remnants from my face, inside my head -- thinking about how, on Friday after work, having drinks with coworkers as a sendoff to one of our number moving on to another dead end job, the new girl accurately guessed my age as forty two -- when it happened.

My wife's voice, accompanied by a two-boy chorus of sniffles and sobs, quietly beckoned from behind me, "Daddy, we have two very upset boys."

Oh my God. "What happened?" I asked, braced for the worst.

"Timmy just died."

"Who?"

"Timmy," she repeated, "their dog."

We have a dog, and her name is Roxie. I wrinkled my eyes to let her know I was waiting for clarification. The boys were on the bed. Emmett's back rose and fell where he lay curled into a ball, face in mommy's pillow.

Jackson looked at me through reddened eyes; in control, but clearly upset. He held out the Nintendo DS, which at one point shown brilliant ebony, now smudged and dull with fingerprints. I understood. The boys had been playing Nintendogs for the last three days, in which you adopt a dog and care for him.

"We donated Timmy," Jackson explained.

My wife added, "They didn't understand the finality of it. Now they can't get him back."

"I just miss him," Emmett wailed as he rolled over and reached his arms up for me. He rested his head on my shoulders as torrents pulsed through his little body.

Jackson continued, "When we gave him away, Timmy looked down and looked so sad." Then he was crying too.

I attempted reparations. "Jackson, you gave the dog up for adoption. Timmy isn't dead. Some other family has adopted him now that will take care of him and give him love. See?"

"You mean Timmy went outside of my DS?"

He believes in Santa Claus, doesn't he? "Sure." But my face had "LIE" written all over it.

"I don't believe you."

"Ok, listen. Timmy is still inside your DS, but it has a little world inside it. And in that world, you just gave Timmy to another family to take care of because you already had enough dogs to take care of. So if you think about it, you did what was best for Timmy. The family that has adopted him will take better care of him."

That seemed to do the trick -- for Jackson. Emmett, on the other hand, wasn't buying any of it.

This morning, Jackson searched around until he found a dog just like Timmy, and showed him to Emmett. "You see," Jackson said, "Timmy is alright."

We think that has done the trick.

Note to self: break out the old board games.