Naina Mukherjee ∙ 10/21/2023
I told her to spit it out but she didn’t listen. I don’t think she understands English so I guess I’ll have to teach her. I was just sitting at my dining table doing the hundred pages of long division assigned to me by my teacher when my dog made my hand slip and pushed all the papers off the table and into her mouth. She ate them all in an instant.
I immediately panicked, opening her mouth and trying to get the papers out but there was nothing to salvage, not even a scrap, she had gobbled it down like a box of steaming hot cheez-it soup and I couldn’t stop her. I proceeded to have a staring contest with her. Usually my steel gaze can get me whatever I want out of a person. Well, you know what they say: you can take the dog out of the homework but you can’t take the homework out of the dog. I really tried. You have to trust me.
That’s exactly what I told Ms. Tood-a-loo but she didn’t believe me. She put me in the chokey for exactly one fortnight instead.
Then, the craziest thing happened: My dog came to school. In all her glory; a bright pink jacket from ruffwear, a pink rain hat with holes for her ears and a neck warmer because she has a really long, really cold, neck. I was stunned that she was able to find her way here. Let’s just say that the students here are very…strong-smelling. She walked right into class, oblivious to the envious stares she received from my peers and ate every single paper from off Ms. Tood-a-loo’s desk. Chaos erupted.
“That’s a dog!” It is!
“That’s my dog!” No, it’s mine.
“Hey, that was my essay!” Nobody asked.
“What’s up dog?!” Nothing much.
Someone picked the fire extinguisher off the wall and attempted to extinguish my dog, but her fiery spirit could not be put out. It was inextinguishable. She was inextinguishable. And she was an inextinguishable dog with a mission. She ran through the aisles, knocking papers off desks and consuming them without a thought behind her greedy eyes. Textbooks, notebooks, paper airplanes; all gone in seconds. Anything that didn’t breathe was an unmoving target. She was the canine recycler on a rampage. Her tail wagged at top speed, shoveling papers into her open mouth as she pranced around; joyful, and full of tasty homework.
Ms. Tood-a-loo was flabbergasted, she told me she couldn’t believe how long and cold my dog’s neck was. Then she told me she’d need those papers back and that I needed to stop being in such
“A silly goofy mood.” But I couldn’t go back. I told her, “You can’t make a canine recycler into a canine un-recycler!” She finally agreed and let me go with only three broken hands and a warning to “never ever be silly OR goofy on the premises of her school again.”
On the bright side, my unnamed dog received an early acceptance to UPenn with a full ride scholarship! It seems that eating people's papers is just what a business needs when they commit tax fraud!