The Dog Who Taught Math

Corporal’s puppies from the last litter were just entering high school. One day, he came home from work, took a long drink from the toilet and then went into the kitchen, where his daughter Daisy was pondering her homework.

“What’ya doing?”, Corporal asked, sniffing the trash can a little. His daughter rolled her eyes and she ended with a great big dog-yawn.

“Don’t get into the trash, dad”, Daisy admonished, “That is so LAME”

“It was me getting INTO the trash that bought you that new collar, young lady”

“How so?”

“SO, what are you working on?”, Corporal said, changing the subject.

Daisy was torn between fleeing the room and answering her father. Finally, she answered in the smallest voice possible, “Math–”

“–MATH! I love math! I was so good at math in college”, her father exclaimed, barking a few times out of sheer excitement.

“College?”

“Obedience school is a KIND of college”

Daisy let her pencil fall to the floor, “You went to obedience school?”

Corporal said quietly, “For a few weeks… SO, what kind of math are you studying?”

Daisy picked up her pencil, which had broken its lead in the fall. As she sharpened her pencil again, she answered, “Trigonometry”

“I’m great at that. I LOVE trees”

“It’s the study of angles, dad”

“Tree-angels?”

Daisy felt the urge to shake herself off. With her ears flapping from side to side, she couldn’t hear what her father was saying. When she stopped she heard,

“–after that groundhog for three hours, just digging–”

“Dad”, interrupted Daisy, “Can I just do my homework?”

“You NEED my help”, her dad growled.

“Sure…”, she held her book up and open to the page she was working on.

“What the HELL is that?”, asked Corporal.

“Trigonometry”

“Must be a different trigonometry than I remember. I recall trigonometry involving more lying down and not moving”

Daisy rolled her eyes again, “Kind of like playing dead?”

“Yes!”, Corporal barked.

“It’s not that, dad. They start with the concept of the unit circle and then teach us how to map real numbers to real numbers–”

“Do you get to bite people?”

“Of course not, dad”

Corporal sat in front of his youngest puppy and thought and sniffed. “You know, the trigonometry I learned is an older style. I don’t want to confuse you”

Daisy gave her father a straight look, “I appreciate that”

“I’m going outside to check for imaginary prowlers”

“You the man, dad”, Daisy growled without much conviction.

“If you need me, though”

“I’ll bark”

Corporal went out into the backyard and barked at a few squirrels. Then, he lay down and thought to himself about his family and the world in general.

“Kids”, he muttered, “They’ll never understand playing dead”

Moral: You Can’t Teach an Old Dog New Trigs