This past winter Emma's teacher had the children make Cotton pod angels. They were adorable. Emma was certainly proud of hers and displayed it proudly for just about 36 hours. That would be just about the time that Ginger decided that Cotton, being a natural fiber was OK to eat. Complete and utter devastation occurred. There was just no way to salvage the angel. According to Emma, Ginger secured herself a position in the "Worst Dog Ever" category. Now don't judge Ginger to harshly, after all she is a Dog. A hyper dog, a dog with a small psychotic streak but a dog none-the-less. We contacted her teacher over the Christmas holiday who assured us we would be able to get another angel.
As it happened, yesterday at roughly 5:00p, Mark and Jack were out playing basketball in the driveway. Ginger was in the backyard, cheering them on. On the occasion the ball does go over the fence Ginger, traps the ball, then dribbles the ball to a stop and by that time one of the boys has scaled the fence and retrieved the ball. Ginger it seems has a natural affinity for soccer, which allows the boys to play a number of games with her.
While they played, Emma and I were in the house. I came upstairs to the computer, a fact I now regret deeply, and Emma took my absence to mean she was free to get up and leave. She did have the good sense to at least take her homework with her. Sadly, however, that good sense did not extend much further. Had she actually been doing her homework outside, had she had her homework in her little hand the following scenario would never have happened. (But, what do I know? I'm just the mom.)
Minutes later the screaming began. I was jolted out of my seat and raced down the stairs, hearing sobs, screaming, more sobbing, wailing and the occasional foot stomping, (absolute hysteria would be the word that comes to mind). When I reached the bottom of the steps Emma held up what looked to be scraps of paper, grass, leaves and mud, "Ginger did this to my homework!"
After taking time to comfort Emma, I began to piece back the paper. On more than one occasion Mark or Jack would bring in the remnants they found blowing outside. With much effort and tape we were able to get the sheet, with the exception of 2 small pieces that I assume Ginger actually ingested and that I am not ever going to try to retrieve. Emma was able to read enough of her paper to get the assignment done, thank goodness, but, to quote her,"There is no way I am taking this to school!" I was faced with the task of emailing her teacher.
Hmm. This, to me, seemed like the most unlikely, not to mention embarrassing of circumstances. I needed to email her teacher, the same teacher I emailed just 4 weeks ago, and explain that yes it's true our dog is hopeless and is still eating Emma's homework.
Dear Mrs. Jones,
This is an email, I never in a million years would have thought I would be writing. Our dog has once again reeked havoc into Emma's life, and eaten her homework. I couldn't believe it myself. This has to be one of the most cliche excuses ever, yet, sadly it's true. Using our best puzzle solving efforts (not to mention a roll of scotch tape) we were able to reconstruct most of her History Newspaper. Much to her relief, she was able to complete the assignment. Sorry for the sloppy paper, not to mention the dog.
Fortunately, Mrs. Jones has a wonderful sense of humor and replied,
That is hysterical! I will give her mine. Thanks for letting me know!!!!!!!
Mortified. Completely. Utterly Mortified. Yes, it is true, some dogs do indeed eat homework.