Lizzie yelled as she tossed a raggedy grayish stuffed sheep to Charles. Charles caught the sheep and ran toward the stairs, then spun around and threw the toy back to Lizzie. “Woolly Bully!” he cried. Buddy dashed back and forth between them, scrabbling and skidding on the floor as he tried to make a quick turn to grab the flying sheep out of the air. His ears were on full alert, his eyes were bright, and he barked and wagged his tail in crazy circles. Buddy loved to play Woolly Bully. So did Lizzie — especially when it took her mind off other things, like . . . well, what had happened at school that day. Who cared what Daphne Drake thought? But Lizzie felt her stomach clench up every time she remembered what Daphne had said. She wished she could talk to Mom about it, but Mom wasn’t there. “Woolly Bully, Woolly Bully, Woolly Bully!” she chanted as she held the sheep high above Buddy’s head. Lizzie couldn’t remember exactly how or when this game had been invented, but she knew that “Wooly Bully”
