I Have a Dog

I have a dog
Mum was teaching dictation to her class of five-year-olds. It was hard labor.
‘I…have… a…dog…
I…have…a…dog…
I…have…a…dog…’
They bent over, clenching their pencils, while she repeated endlessly. After twenty minutes most of them had mastered their three prescribed sentences, but she noticed one blank copybook. She asked the little boy (‘he’s bright but a divil’) why he hadn’t written anything.
‘Cos I don’t have a dog, Mrs. Hangley.’