In an ironic twist, a dog really ate your homework. When you try to explain this to your teacher she says, “Come on, you can do better than that excuse.” Instead of arguing, you take that as a challenge and come up with an elaborate story as to what happened to your homework. Let us hear it.
Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.567
The native English teacher stared at my little body. Her voice was low and heavy and heavily-accented. She took the piece of paper I handed her. “This is just scrap. Where’s your actual homework, Chris?”
“The dog ate it.” I said, gritting my teeth.
“Come on, you can do better than that excuse. You’re already twelve years old and you’re the class monitor.”
“Look at my scars!” I said, shaking my bandaged hands at her. “I actually struggled with my dog at home.”
“Why would a house dog want to eat a pile of paper anyway?”
“This dog is weird. It eats bugs, flies, fruit, anything it gets its paws on, even chicken and fish bones. It even bites your toes if you don’t have your shoes on. My cousin once put on slippers with toes sticking out and the dog bit his toes so badly he had to go to hospital.”
“The dog should be put down,” said the teacher. “It might have rabies.”
“It’s been part of family since I was seven. I was working on my homework and this dog barked. It wanted to play with me but I was busy. I dragged it to the garden but it whimpered, so I got down and patted it. At once it leapt upon the table and scratched my English assignment booklet. I tried to yank it away from the dog but it had already bitten through the book. It looked like the Apple logo, but this time it was a rectangle with a big corner chewed off.”
“Did you happen to bring it with you?”
“I wish I had, but as soon as I retrieved my booklet, the dog pounced upon me and I struggled to get it off my back. I dropped the booklet and it bit off more of my booklet. Now two corners were ruined. I opened the booklet and tried to copy down what was left of my homework to a separate sheet of paper, but then the dog sprang upon the table and lapped up the torn booklet.”
The teacher adjusted her glasses. “I still don’t believe you.”
“I still haven’t got to telling you how I got hurt. The dog then appraoched my frantic copy of what remained of my homework, this paper. By that time I realised something. The ink I used to do my homework with had a blueberry scent.” I took out the pen. It had several bite marks near the nib. “Look at this,” I said. “I shoved the pen into its mouth and it bit me as well. That’s how I figured out why the dog ate my homework. And to show you I’m not joking, I gave you the piece of paper.”
The teacher held up my paper.
“The first part of it is written in blue ink. That was this pen.”
She stroked her chin.
“I’m not making an excuse here. The dog was clearly after the scent. So the dog ate my homework indeed.”