My Dog Ate My Homework (For Real)
by Benny LaughtonA child must prove to their teacher that their dog actually did eat their homework, leading to a hilarious chase
1/31/2026
10 pages
Meet the Characters
Milo
Biscuit
+2 more
Style
Wild Things Crosshatch
Story
Story Arc
Order
Order Book
Humor & ComedyRealistic FictionHonestyPerseveranceDeterminationProblem Solving
A boy, a cat, and a sticky mystery.
Page 1
The morning sun, still low and hazy, cast long shadows through Milo's small window, but his thoughts were already racing. He frowned, tugging at a loose thread on his tunic as a familiar, soft thump echoed from the kitchen. It was Biscuit, likely beginning his daily tour of mischief before Milo even left for school. Milo sighed, knowing whatever delicious treat he had left on the counter was probably no longer safe.
Page 2
Later, at school, the classroom hummed with the easy chatter of Ms. Lily's 3rd-grade students, but Milo felt a familiar knot tightening in his stomach. He unzipped his worn satchel, ready for morning lessons, and a cascade of cookie crumbs tumbled onto his desk, followed by a partially eaten oat cookie. A few giggles rippled through the room. Milo's cheeks flushed crimson, his wide eyes darting around the room, hoping no one had noticed.
Page 3
"Milo, is everything alright?" Ms. Lily's voice was kind, but it carried an expectation of honesty. He looked up, his lips still downturned, trying to find the words. "It's… it's Biscuit," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "He got into my snack again. He's very clever, you see." Ms. Lily listened patiently, but a subtle shift in her expression, a slight narrowing of her eyes, told Milo she simply didn't believe him.
Page 4
The walk home felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of Ms. Lily's unspoken doubt. Milo kicked at a loose pebble on the dusty neighborhood street, his heart sinking with a mix of frustration and determination. How could he possibly convince her that his mischievous housecat was the true culprit behind the cookie capers? He knew Biscuit was cunning, but proving it seemed an impossible task.
Page 5
An idea began to spark in Milo's mind, a tiny flame of hope flickering against the gloom. He spent the afternoon carefully arranging his next day's snack, a fresh batch of Grandma Elara's apple turnovers, prominently on the kitchen table. Then, with quiet precision, he dusted a thin layer of flour across the tabletop around the plate, creating a perfect, powdery witness. He would catch Biscuit red-pawed.
Page 6
The next morning, Milo crept into the kitchen with bated breath, eager to see his clever trap. But the turnovers remained untouched, and the flour lay pristine, an unbroken white circle. Biscuit sat on the windowsill, calmly grooming a paw, his yellow eyes meeting Milo's with an almost smug glint. Milo's shoulders slumped; Biscuit was smarter than he'd given him credit for, easily outmaneuvering his simple plan.
Page 7
Milo watched Biscuit for the rest of the day, a new strategy forming. Biscuit wasn't interested in a direct assault; he preferred stealth and distraction. He noticed how Biscuit would stretch, then yawn, then casually wander past the counter, his tail giving a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch towards the tempting treats. It wasn't about speed; it was about the perfect, unobserved moment. Milo's lips thinned in thought.
Page 8
Armed with his new understanding, Milo prepared a simpler, more direct observation. He placed a small piece of his own breakfast bread, dusted lightly with sugar, on a low shelf, then hid nearby, utterly still. Moments later, Biscuit's shadow-like form glided silently across the floor. Milo held his breath as the cat, with a quick, delicate swipe of a paw, nudged the bread off the shelf, leaving behind a single, tiny, sugared paw print.
Page 9
The next morning, Milo walked to school with a lightness in his step he hadn't felt in days. Carefully cupped in his hand was the definitive proof: a small, dry leaf he had placed on the shelf, now bearing a clear, tiny impression of Biscuit's sugared paw. It was ridiculous, perhaps, to bring a leaf to school as evidence, but the truth, no matter how unbelievable, had a way of revealing itself. He hoped Ms. Lily would see it.
Page 10
Milo approached Ms. Lily's desk, holding out the leaf, his heart thrumming. He explained Biscuit's cleverness, how the cat preferred quiet, sugar-dusted paw prints to floury chaos. Ms. Lily bent closer, her observant eyes widening as she saw the tiny, sweet imprint. A small smile, genuine this time, touched her lips. "Well, Milo," she said, her voice soft with newfound understanding, "it seems Biscuit is even more remarkable than I imagined. And you, Milo, were honest all along."
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