Woof! Woof! Woof! Homework! Woof! Woof! Woof!

Our three year-old terrier mix is committed to ridding the world of evil squirrels.

When Langley sees a squirrel in a tree, our gracious pooch transforms into a psychotic lunatic. He sprints around the base of the squirrel-laden palms yelping frenetically. He leaps into the air, hurling himself upward in a deranged frenzy. With steel springs in his legs and infinite energy, he has a 40-inch vertical leap.

Of course, the trees-with the squirrels at the top-are 40 feet high.

What does our Langley expect? What is going on in his doggie brain? Does our 35-pounds of man’s best friend think that the squirrel is going to exclaim, “Oh, I know. Here’s a good idea. Let me scamper down this tree, so my furry corpus can be shredded and devoured by that hysterical, slavering idiot of a dog”?

Needless to say, the squirrel chooses a more discrete course and remains safely ensconced in the canopy; Langley continues boinging in all directions at once, barking incessantly, a dog seemingly high on an unfortunate cocktail of performance enhancing drugs and methamphetamine.

Contrast Langley’s snarling and snapping with the following monologue: “Do you have any homework? Don’t tell me you don’t have any homework! I know you have homework! I went on-line to find your homework! You have Wordly Wise homework! You have Algebra homework! Why aren’t you doing your homework? I’ve told you a hundred times to do your homework!”

Is there, by any chance, an analogy here between the concerned parent and my bounding canine? Do you find yourself screaming like schizophrenic preacher on a daily basis for your kids to put down that @#$%^&*! phone and do their *&^%$#@! homework? Do you pontificate endlessly about how homework is necessary, how homework builds character, how homework is helpful, how homework is meaningful for the future, how homework must be done N-O-W?

Do you have more in common with my brown dog than might first appear?

Because if, as a consequence of your virulent spewing of words on the subject, your children actually DID their homework in a productive way (your children doing homework in a productive way would be analogous to the squirrel coming down from the tree,) it could be argued that there was method to your verbiage.

But if, no matter how long or how loudly you scream, the kids are only fulfilling their academic responsibilities in the most cursory was (the squirrel staying up in the tree) then it might be time to rethink your approach.

Indeed, I don’t think Langley wants any part of instant shredded squirrel stew. He has to be aware that he’s never caught a squirrel before and that he’s not going to catch one now. He benefits from his bounding behavior in other ways. He gets valuable exercise; he gets to be in touch with his inner-wolf; he gets to impress us with how muy macho he is.

Are there benefits of your yelling at your kids to do their homework?

1) Are you trying to communicate to your children that, in a perfect world, you would prefer that they be the kinds of kids who enjoy doing homework?

2) Are you trying to communicate that homework has some value?

3) Are you trying to communicate that you have given over the responsibility of educating your children to strangers who are overworked, underpaid, and subject to silly restrictions on how they can teach?

Here are my modest insights into each of the above:

1) Love your children for who they are, not for what they do.

2) The research is against you here. The younger the children, the more contra-indicated is homework.

3) Elementary school teachers are great. But your child is going to have to live with the consequences of his education more than her teachers will.

If by yelling at your kids to do homework, you are communicating that you have anxiety or that you feel there is something fundamentally flawed about your kids, then I have a palm tree you may wish to run around.

But you might want to consider that barking and leaping have never gotten Langley any closer to a squirrel.