Losing Words

AJ walked out of his room this morning smiling and cuddling his new Webkin the little stuffed dog with a web page. He loves his new friend. I asked him "What's your dog's name?" and I watched his face as he processed the question. First his mouth opened slightly and his eyes got a far away look, as if he was reading off some files floating across the room. I watched him search his brain, saw him fidget, a wrinkle across his forehead formed briefly and concern flashed across his face. "That's OK Buddy, take your time." I hinted to him, hoping to trigger the right file to leap out at him. I saw his breathing increase and his eyes narrow, he knew the dog he loved has a name, but he couldn't remember it. His face dropped and he mumbled "a friend." My wife came to his aid "That's right AJ, the doggy is your friend, your friend named Buddy." AJ looked somewhat relieved and still disappointed he didn't remember himself. "Yea, Buddy" Friend was the first name he gave to the dog. More of a label then a name. My wife suggested he try a different name, and that one Buddy, the more abstract one is the one AJ couldn't find. Throughout the day she talked about his dog named Buddy hoping the repetition will anchor and create a link to the correct file for next time.