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02:29 pm: I Has a Sweet Potato
You know, a lot of times I write up random posts and then don't post them. But Best Beloved just called me, and I could not really explain why I was inarticulate about sweet potatoes, so I said I'd go ahead and post this. That way, she can read it at work and know just what kind of day it has been. (Short version, for those who do not feel like reading the whole post: ARRRRRRG. Fucking sweet potatoes.)

The longer version, summarized in conversation form:

Dog: I am starving.
Me: Actually, no. You aren't starving. You get two very good meals a day. And treats. And Best Beloved fed you extra food while I was gone.
Me: I saw you get fed not four hours ago! You are not starving.
Dog: Pity me, a sad and tragic creature, for I can barely walk, I am so starving. WOE.
Me: I am now ignoring you.
Dog: Did you hear me? I am starving.
Dog: Are you seriously ignoring me? Fine.

[There is a pause, during which the dog exits the room in a pointed manner.]

[From the kitchen, there comes a noise like someone is eating a baseball bat.]

Me, yelling: What the hell are you doing?
Me: *makes haste for the kitchen and finds dog there*
Dog: *picks up entire raw sweet potato, which is what was causing the baseball bat noise, and flees for the bedroom*
Me: *chases dog, retrieves most of sweet potato, less the portion which has disappeared into dog's gullet*
Me: ...That can't be good for you. It's a RAW SWEET POTATO.
Dog: I had to do it. I haven't been fed. Ever.
Me: You realize you aren't normal. Normal dogs don't steal raw sweet potatoes.
Dog, sadly: I was badly brought up.
Me: Yes. Yes, you were.
Dog: By people who starved me.
Me: Oh, no. I am not doing this again.
Me: *exits the room, bearing sweet potato*

[There is a pause.]

[There is a noise like someone is trying to eat a baseball bat very very quietly.]

Me: Oh, for the love of GOD.
Me: *heads off to the kitchen*
Dog: I am not eating a raw sweet potato.
Me: You have sweet potato parts all over your snout.
Dog: But you don't actually SEE a raw sweet potato, do you? So maybe that's just - um. A birthmark.
Me: Did you seriously eat a whole sweet potato?
Dog: You don't listen. I told you, I wasn't eating a sweet potato.
Me, searching around fruitlessly: Look. NO MORE SWEET POTATOES.
Me: Oh, what am I saying? This is you we're talking about, here. *goes to hide all the sweet potatoes that are left - which isn't many - in the fridge, because some people cannot be trusted*
Dog: *attempts to look thwarted*
Dog: *does not succeed, because her tail is wagging so hard small cyclones are forming in the kitchen*
Me: *has a very bad feeling about this*

[There is a pause, during which I do not even bother trying to return to what I was doing. I just stand in the computer room, waiting.]

[There is, as I wholly expected, a baseball-bat-eating noise.]

Me, stomping back to the kitchen: OKAY. GIVE ME THE DAMNED SWEET POTATO.
Dog, looking up guiltily: What sweet potato?
Dog: Oh, did you want this? I just, um. Found it. Lying here.
Me: *confiscates the sweet potato and deposits it in the locking trashcan*
Me: Let us say no more about this.
Dog: ...Nooooo! They be stealin' my sweet potato!

[I attempt to remember what I was doing before the sweet potato episode.]

[Some ten minutes later, I succeed, and return to it.]

[NOT ONE MINUTE LATER, I hear a noise with which I have become all too familiar.]

Me, bonking head on desk: Arg.
Me, arriving in kitchen: How did you even get another sweet potato?
Dog, smugly: I have my ways.
Me: Are you punishing me for being away for several days? I was at a FUNERAL, you know. It wasn't FUN.
Dog: How would I know? You didn't take me. You left me here with only one human to look after my needs. One human is NOT ENOUGH.
Me: *shuts dog in bedroom, conducts a sweep of the kitchen to track down all remaining sweet potatoes, wipes up random sweet potato particles from floor, eradicates all traces of sweet potato from house*
Me: *lets dog out*
Dog, sulkily: Oh, so you think you've won.

[I watch her go about her business with the same sense of overwhelming doom that heroines of Victorian novels get when they meet Count Sinistrus Grimblack for the first time.]

[Half an hour later, there is a wetter, juicier eating noise, as though someone was eating a very moist baseball bat.]

Me, wearily: What NOW?
Dog, hunched over the remains of a butternut squash: *says something garbled because her mouth is full*
Me: Okay. Fine.
Me: *stomps over, empties entire vegetable bowl into trash*
Dog: I'm not even remotely sorry. I told you I was hungry. And you went to a funeral without me.

[A half-hour later, there is another baseball-bat-eating noise from the kitchen. The dog, who apparently does not know how to win gracefully, has found another sweet potato, or possibly caused one to materialize from the Rift.]

Me, hauling chewed sweet potato parts from the mouth of a dog very reluctant to part with them: Oh my god how is this my life?
Dog: Don't you think it would just be easier to feed me?
Dog: Actually, I feel...um...not so good.
Dog: *throws up* *vomit is very bright orange*

[Unfortunate details ensue.]

Some time later:
Me, attempting to rescue something from the wreckage: So. What have we learned from this?
Dog: Sweet potatoes are yummy!
Other Dog, looking thoughtful: I should pay more attention to crunching noises. Sweet potatoes are probably yummy.
Me: I need a lobotomy.

And that, Best Beloved - and anyone else who made it through that - is What Kind of Day It Has Been.


[ETA 6/22/2007: Hi! I can't reply to comments on this entry any more; I'm reading them all, and loving them, but responding is beyond me. So:

If you'd like to link people here, feel free.

If you'd like to leave a comment, please do. They make me happy.

If you'd like to repost or use this elsewhere, please don't; I'd prefer you to link. And no commercial use of my work without my permission, please.

If you see this reposted or used elsewhere, I'd very much appreciate a comment or email - thefourthvine at livejournal dot com - to let me know where.

Thank you for reading!

...And, yes, she has had more sweet potato; I gave it to her when the comments on this hit the tenth page. I figured she'd earned it.]


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[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:11 pm (UTC)
Got here via someone's link...So brilliant! I was in hysterics the entire time, could barely read it aloud to my girl while she ran for the toilet so as not to have an unfortunate accident on the couch from laughing so hard.

My dog has taken to playing with onions. They're ball shaped, yay! ARRG

[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:30 pm (UTC)
Hee! how did Astro find an onion?

I heart you both. HI!
[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:18 pm (UTC)
Yet another "got it off of someone elses page" person. All I can say is that I have SO been there. They just try to look all cute and innocent and then the second you turn your back, bam!, there are those little bitches (hey, I have a female dog. They are called that for a reason) nose first into the flip lid trash can. I have discovered many times over that snotty tissues are appearently an excellent snack...
[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:19 pm (UTC)
Came here via metaquotes. GREAT STORY. If the SPCA ever heard our cats yowl for food, they'd think we hadn't fed them for weeks. And I'm like, "I fed you an hour ago!"
[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:27 pm (UTC)
I'm dying from the ensuing tears. They shall veritably wash me away in a sea of laughter. One of our dogs could have easily done this too...

... my siblings simply would have flushed them down the toilet!
[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:34 pm (UTC)
Hi, I was linked here as many have been. And as I have commented to people I know that have also loved this post, I am commenting to you. This cracked me up so much. And you have such a way with words. Hilarious and really, really frustrating. I never knew how yummy a raw sweet potato was. Now I know. You are hilarious and your dog, I really love the dog. baseball bat noises. bwah!
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:36 pm (UTC)
Sounds like my kids.

*licks you for being so funny*
[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:40 pm (UTC)
But at least you made my son's whole week, so you have that.
[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 11:47 pm (UTC)
oh. my. Ghod.

I don't know you, I don't think, but as far as I can tell you have an exact clone of MY dog!!!!!!!!!!!

I am laughing so hard that I hurt.

Oh, and for the record, raw sweet potato is actually GOOD for dogs. My vet told me so.
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 12:27 am (UTC)
brilliant. yes. please accept this star.
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 12:31 am (UTC)
Here via half my friendslist.

I have the cat counterparts of your dog. I am apparently perpetually starving them and they will eat ANYTHING. And then throw it all up. Preferably on my office chair.

Hilarious story, thank you.
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 12:45 am (UTC)
I am sorry for your, er... experience, but I wanted to let you know this has been a tough day, and your account has cheered me immensely. Thank you.
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 01:01 am (UTC)
I needed that like YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW.

::hugs you and pours you drink::
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 01:19 am (UTC)
Here via born_to_me, who had it from matociquala. And passed on to several of my co-workers.

One of the standard poodles my family had growing up (not the one in the icon) learned how to open Entenmann's (baked goods) boxes. Not destroy, or damage in any way. No. She opened them (which is tricky sometimes even for humans with opposable thumbs and all), ate the contents, and left the undamaged box abandoned in the middle of the kitchen floor. Sometimes she even closed it again. Entenmann's boxes started living on top of the refrigerator.

This one loved my socks. Not to eat, or even to damage. Just to carry around the house, doing the subtle-but-unmistakable "Ha! Look at me! Look what I'm carrying!" walk. Nice contrast against his black fur (this was before he grayed).
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 06:35 am (UTC)
And I just read the rest of your journal, and have friended you. I loved the bra rant (and bookmarked many links), and the tampon rant. Then I got to the "I am not a girl" one and said, "Huh. Apparently my subconscious has another LJ, with a whole nother life, and never said anything to me." So, from one member of the "Well, I must be a girl, because it explains the ventral contour of my torso (and also the way I fall over forwards), but, um, was there a memo? Cause I seem to have missed the rest of the phenotype..." club to another, hi there.

(And here, have another dog. This one made a habit of escaping the yard by climbing straight up a 5' chain link fence. So we got an invisible fence. Not only did he learn that the beeping noise meant that he would get shocked, so back off, he learned that if he didn't hear the beeping noise it meant that the batteries had run down and he was free to go. Argh!)
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 01:32 am (UTC)
Incidentally, dogs can eat raw sweet potato, it's good for them, and we give ours raw carrot and slices of sweet potato as a treat.

Potatoes = bad. Sweet potatoes = good.

The vomiting could have been because it simply consumed an excessive amount, or because it was trying to trigger a vomiting response and instead of eating grass found another form of raw fibre to do this.
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 02:13 am (UTC)
Thank you for sharing. Please take some solace for your sanity in knowing you've certainly made my day brighter.
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:04 am (UTC)
That is like the most awesome icon ever.....
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