Of the leash
-
For a pair of pants
His favorite pastime
For the last time
-
Why can't I be a normal kid like any other?
Now, doodle bug, listen to mother.
I hate dogs.
I do not wish to be a dog.
Yes!
-Aah!
Rise and shine, gooey gumball!
Where's my big, old fourth grade boy? Ooh, I have to give him a kiss.
Mwah!
Mom, you're not gonna do that at school.
Oh, of course not, Mr. Worry-Pants.
At school, I'm not mommy,
I'm just Mrs. Helperman, your fourth grade teacher.
And I'm just Leonard Helperman...
Class dork.
Ha ha ha ha. I love you, too, Spot.
But even dog breath and slobber kisses
can't help me today.
This is gonna be the crummiest year ever.
Boy, I wish I could stay home like you, Spot.
Stay home like me? Are you insane, boy?
Would that I could go to school like you.
What wouldn't I give to breathe in
the smell of a freshly sharpened pencil,
to thrill to the crack of the binding
of a math book being opened for the first time, to--
Cut it out, Spot.
That's gross.
To walk down the hallowed halls of learning
in brand-new sneakers
that have yet to see the light of day.
But, no, I'm a dog.
I stay home and bite my buttocks.
Surprise, hon! For the first day of school.
A purple bunny backpack?
You think Tyler, Taylor, or Trevor would be caught dead
wearing a purple bunny backpack?
I thought-- I thought it would be special.
I don't want to be special, Mom.
I just want to be normal. I just want to fit in.
Okay, well, if it makes you more comfy,
just use your old backpack, doodle bug.
And don't call me doodle bug!!
Oh, right... I, uh...
I meant dude.
Hi, Leslie.
I like your dress.
Hi, Leonard.
Hi, Spot!
Yes, oh, what a good boy!
Yes, what a good, good dog.
That's a really pretty dress.
It's the nicest dress I ever saw on you.
Oh, you're the best doggy in the whole world.
Yeah, he's the greatest.
Go home, Spot.
Sorry, fella. Dogs can't come to school.
Aw, poor little guy. Bet he wishes he could.
Hmm. If only you knew how much.
Oh, if only I'd been born a kid instead of a stupid slobbering dog.
Oh, Spot, I can't understand you at all.
I just feel so cheated by fate!
He means he can't understand you
with that stupid tennis ball in your mouth, dummy.
Oh. Sorry.
Isn't that just the story of my life--
a ball in my mouth instead of a book in my hand.
Ugh. Filthy, nasty habit.
You don't know where that ball's been.
Pretty Boy does have a point. It could be crawling with outdoor cooties,
and the lord only knows
if your vaccinations are current.
Oh, this is bad. It's is very bad.
What difference does it make whether I live or die
from old tennis ball germs
if the rest of my life is to be spent
in a pile of dirty clothes, trapped between these walls
waiting for the people to come home?
Did they feed him this morning?
Wait a minute!
Who says I have to live like this?
Why must I settle?
Where is it written that I have to suffer my days
lying on a pile of cast-off dirty clothes?
In the Doggy Handbook, bobo, chapter one,
right after "scratch the door to get out"!
No, don't you see? This is my destiny.
I was the runt of the litter,
abandoned by a cruel pet-store owner
before my eyes even turned brown,
but a kindly fourth grade class on a field trip rescued me
and took me into the bosom of their classroom.
Oh, how I yearn for that golden puppyhood.
It's been my lifelong dream to return.
What's he talking about? What's he doing?
I am going to school.
Gasp! Out there? You can't.
Oh, can't I?
Hey.
What's up?
Look at that weird kid running on all fours!
Now I've seen everything.
Wow.
Ow!
Ohh. Oh, no, not here.
Not now.
Are you okay, kid?
I-I-I-I-I'll be fine.
Uh, the color of it just shocked me, that's all.
Yeah, it's yellow, all right.
Well, see you later.
Ha ha ha. See you later.
I'm a boy, not a dog-- a boy, not a dog.
Don't blow it now. They wouldn't understand.
What's your problem?
Phbt!
-We like your dress. -We like your dress.
Really?
Kelsey and Chelsea like my dress.
I-I like your dress.
You better not talk.
You're going to get in trouble with your mom.
New kid.
Oh, hello. Are you supposed to be in this class?
Um, I, uh, uh, um, uh...
Are you a fourth grader?
Y-Y-Yes!
Then you're supposed to be in this class. What's your name?
Spot.
Did you say Scott?
Uh, yeah, that's a good boy's name.
Uh-huh. And what's your last name, Scott?
Last name? Uh...
Uh...
Give me a second. Um...
Leadready Number Two.
Oh, the second.
Yeah, yeah, that's what I meant.
Well, everyone, say hello to your new classmate
Scott Leadready II.
Hi, Scott.
Hi, guys!
Ooh.
Formica.
Cool purple bunny backpack.
Darn.
Boys and girls,
please take out your "Adventures In Math" books.
Ha ha ha ha! Today we begin long division.
Long division!
Ooh, not just division, but long division!
First participles, now this. Oh, what a day!
Good morning, boys and girls.
I just wanted to stop in and welcome you
to the, uh, the, um...
Um, fourth grade, Principal Strickler.
The fourth grade!
Ah, yes, I remember the fourth grade.
That was the year some irresponsible child
violated school policy
and brought a cute new puppy in for show-and-tell,
and do you know what happened?
It bit off half my thumb!
I hate dogs.
Ah, this world would be a better place
if they were all just kitty cats.
Am I right, young man?
Uh... right!
What's this? Tallulah smells a dog.
I-I...
I have a dog at home.
Maybe she smells him on my clothes.
Yes, that must be it. Next time wash your clothes better,
and whatever you do, make sure that dog stays home
and never comes to school.
Right.
Good. Uhh! Come...On, pretty-- uhh!
Let's go next door and welcome the um, uh...
Fifth grade, Principal Strickler.
Fifth grade! Ah, yes, I remember the fifth grade.
Don't get me started.
Now, who can tell me what this word means?
Okay, um...
Well, I know that there is
at least one very, very smart boy here
who can give us a definition
because he learned it at home, right?
Democracy--
a form of government
in which the power is granted to the people,
born in ancient Greece
and adopted by our bewigged founding fathers
of the Second Continental Congress
on a muggy July 4th in Philadelphia, PA, 1776.
That new kid's going to really take the pressure off us.
-Cool. -Cool.
Wow, Scott. You're really smart.
I knew that. I just didn't want to show off.
Oh, an excellent answer, Scott.
You may sit.
Okay, now, as a part of our unit on democracy,
we are going to hold our very own election!
Yay!
Okay, then.
Um, so whoever wants to run for class president,
you may nominate yourself
by writing your name on the chalkboard right now.
Ewww-en!
We call him that 'cause he's so disgusting.
Ian, uh, chalk is for writing, not eating.
Oh, oh, but it's got secret ingredients
from the deep underlayers of the Brazilian rain forest.
You want some?
Okey-dokey. Ha ha. Anyone else?
Would anyone else like to run?
Oh, great. She expects me to put my name up,
and then everyone's going to feel like they have to vote for me
because my mom's the teacher.
And big deal-- I'll win against Ian Wazaloseky.
Ha ha ha ha! Well, super-dee-duper!
We have another candidate.
New kid!
Boy, he's got guts. And on his first day, too.
New kid! New kid! New kid! New kid! New kid! New kid! New kid!
Hey, what's going on?
-Isn't he awesome? -Isn't he awesome?
So totally.
Big deal. My dog can do the same thing.
I know who you are, and I know
why you can leap 5 feet in the air
and catch a frisbee with your teeth.
I know why you have a purple bunny backpack.
Yes, Leonard, it's true.
You're from the alternative school!
No, Leonard, I'm--
admit it!
Huh? What's this?
Spot Helperman?
What have you done with my dog?
That's what I've been trying to tell you, Leonard.
I am your dog.
No!
What's up? -Nothing. Just a bad reaction
to the, uh, cafeteria's turkey chili nachos.
You might want to leave, guys.
It could get ugly.
Later, dudes.
You-- you can talk.
Yes, I can, Leonard.
-How long? -The whole time.
And Pretty Boy, Mr. Jolly?
Mm-hmm, all of us.
This is too weird.
Look, no one else needs to know.
Well, of course no one can know.
Are you kidding? Jeez.
If I thought being the teacher's son
made me a freak...
You have to go.
You have to go home right now.
What, before spelling? Are you out of your mind?
You can't stay here. You're-- you're a dog.
I do not wish to be a dog.
It's what you are!
I expected this from the other pets,
but not from you.
No, Leonard, I have finally
found my place in the world.
I am staying at school.
I am staying in the fourth grade.
And what's more, by this time tomorrow,
I will be president of our class!
Oh, no. No.
You can't run.
If you're president,
I'll never get you to go home.
Precisely.
Okay, that's it.
I'm through trying to reason with my dog!
I know what I have to do.
Oh, I am so proud of my ittle-wittle kid-adid.
Oh, ho ho.
Mom, not at school!
I've got to win this thing. I've got to beat that dog.
Leonard, that's no way to talk
about your fellow office-seeker.
I can stomach the Mary's lamb routine--
you follow him to school one day, yada, yada.
But running against your master for president--
that's way over the line!!
Yes, it's bad Karma, Spot.
Oh, dear, oh, me, you're going against nature.
Nature invented the flea.
What care I for nature?
You're a real piece of work.
And so if you elect me, Leonard Helperman,
I promise I will be a good president.
Politics is not for wimps.
I need a drink. Ah, chocolate milk.
Leonard!
I was getting a glass.
Well, I think you better feed your dog.
Oh, look how hungry he is.
Aah! No! No!
My speech.
Bad boy! Out!
Out!
Perhaps you should have gone
to the pain of memorizing it, like I did.
You need a leader--
someone who dares to think outside the box,
color outside the lines,
someone who, when others say, "I can't,"
can say, in the words of the great Sammy Davis Jr.,
"Yes, I can!"
Y-You need a kid like you,
a normal, regular kid
who does normal, regular kid stuff like--
A normal, regular kid.
You need someone who can get rid
of these yak glue sticks and bring back
good old-fashioned pasting pots.
That stuff was delightful.
One for Scott.
One for Leonard.
One for Scott.
One for Leonard.
One for Ian?
"Paste pots rule.
Glue sticks drool"?
I'm sorry, Leonard.
I never meant it to come to this.
In my heart, I'm totally loyal.
You'll always be my master.
I'll never heel for another.
But this was destiny.
No hard feelings. Have a grape.
See? There are some things only humans should attempt.
I want you boys to know that just by running,
you're all winners.
But our new class president
by a single vote is...
Me, me, me.
Mmm. Paste.
Ian Wazaloseky!
Paste pots rule!
Glue sticks drool!
Speech!
Now, as president, Ian,
your special responsibilities will include
cleaning the chalkboard, emptying the pencil sharpener,
and sorting the recycling every day.
-Whew. -Whew.
Hi, loser. And I say that
with the self-mocking good nature
of a fellow loser.
I know that... loser.
Hey. When you say it, it hurts.
You know, that's the stupidest-looking backpack ever.
Really? Leslie seems to like it.
You know, you really would be better off
just staying home and being a dog.
Is that what you want, Leonard?
Well...
Knowing how much I have treasured every moment
of these two days--
the pain and the joy,
the adulation and the rejection?
All right, all right, I get it.
The turkey chili nachos
and the canned peaches in heavy syrup--
Oh, mama!
Okay, you can keep going to school.
Oh! I can? Hooray!
I am so happy, I am so happy!
Oh, you'll never regret it, Leonard.
It's gonna be wonderful-- you and me together at last,
like we were always meant to be.
But you gotta be cool, okay?
No more hot-dogging.
Absolutely. Agreed.
Did you hear I'm going out for the soccer team?
Ooh, I hope to be captain.
That's way better than class president.
Everyone knows the captain of the soccer team.
Ooh, ooh, ooh! And how about a newspaper, huh?
If I started one, I could be editor.
That's the way you sway the unwashed masses.
Uh, we can talk about it when I walk you tonight.
Uh, we're almost home.
Oh, yeah, gotcha.
Good dog.