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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.
Dog: STARVING.
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: STARVING.
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*
Dog: See? STARVING.
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?
Me: THE ONE IN YOUR MOUTH.
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*
Me: WE JUST WON'T HAVE ANY ROOT VEGETABLES ANYMORE. THERE. ARE YOU HAPPY?
Dog: I'm not even remotely sorry. I told you I was hungry. And you went to a funeral without me.
Me: ARRRRRRRRG.

[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?
Me: EVERYONE GO TO THE BEDROOM AND STAY THERE. EAT NOTHING.
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.

FUCKING SWEET POTATOES. ARG.

[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.]

Comments

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[User Picture]
From:valkyrie_kitten
Date:May 10th, 2007 02:34 am (UTC)
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It could be worse. My cat opens the fridge for my dog. Then they both look innocent. (and I have a drooled on empty fridge.
From:ez_as_pi
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:01 am (UTC)
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oh.my.God.... It feels wrong to laugh so hard about this, cause my dog's pulled somthing similar... and I feel your pain and you probably did too as you pulled your hair out...

But I can't help crying I'm laughing so hard....
[User Picture]
From:surlytart
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:11 am (UTC)
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Found this through a friend. I'm sitting next to my 13 year old mutt and NOT allowing her to read your post. I fear for what would happen.

Incidentally, you can teach your dog to speak. They can say, very clearly, 'foooooooooooooooooooood.' Though she succeeded once, I'm pretty sure it would be folly to encourage the vocal part of an already atrocious begging habit.

Thanks for making me actually laugh out loud, a rather rare occurence!
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From:dslartoo
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:15 am (UTC)
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wyldkyss sent me this way and I have not laughed that hard in WEEKS. My stomach hurts. I don't know you at all, but thanks for sharing this.

"eating a very moist baseball bat", hahahahahahahaha.

cheers,
Phil
[User Picture]
From:unhipster
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:22 am (UTC)
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Hehe, awesome.
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From:at_the_stars
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:35 am (UTC)
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This is seriously the best thing I have read all week.
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From:starofhope
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:39 am (UTC)
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Never read your blog before, but my girlfriend does. I thought this story was amusing/cute. Linked it on my website front page and saw your request to let you know when such happens.

Doggies are awesome.
[User Picture]
From:zuki_san
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:50 am (UTC)
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Correction! I dont' even read your blog! I found this because a blog I *do* read linked me to it, and she had it linked to her by someone that *does* read you. You sir or ma'am, are slowly on your way to achieving brief internet fame.
[User Picture]
From:genopringle
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:50 am (UTC)
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Best god damned anything ever. My dog is just like this, and I feel your pain.
[User Picture]
From:lemonygoat
Date:May 10th, 2007 04:19 am (UTC)

Arg dogs!

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I once had my dog steal 3 boned chicekn breasts, 3 boneless chicken breasts with curry sauce (HOT! curry sauce), 32 merangues, and 2 whole ELK STAKES. I have since learend to lock her in the basement before cooking. Anything.
From:wah
Date:May 10th, 2007 04:27 am (UTC)
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This is absolutely priceless. I love it.

[User Picture]
From:ladywolfsong
Date:May 10th, 2007 04:38 am (UTC)
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this was great....really funny! though I'm sure nowhere near as funny for you :)
[User Picture]
From:multi_facets
Date:May 10th, 2007 04:38 am (UTC)

Here from note_to_cat

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You're sick of comments by now, I'm sure, but I have to say thank you so very much for sharing this. I laughed my ass off, and when I told Dad about this, and the other stories of Things Dogs Have Eaten, he said "Tell them about Heinekin and Annie."

Heinekin was Mom and Dad's second Dachshund as a married couple. Once he got into a half pound of raw ground beef and walked around like a miserable Buddha for the rest of the night.

Now, Annie? She was another Dachshund, and she ate the strangest thing in the history of my parents' marriage: Thirty bucks. That's right, a twenty and two fives. Dad had to follow Annie around for two weeks until he could reconstruct the serial numbers of the bills and exchange them for currency that hadn't been digested. XD

God, LJ has some great stuff!
[User Picture]
From:ehy2k
Date:May 10th, 2007 04:57 am (UTC)

Re: Here from note_to_cat

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I was going to tell about my dachshund that used to eat the crotches out of clothing. New, old, clean, dirty, boys, girls, whatever...he could dig them out of drawers, from the closet, and laundry hamper. The dog nearly ruined my adolescence.
[User Picture]
From:ehy2k
Date:May 10th, 2007 04:53 am (UTC)
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You probably hear this a lot, but I just friended you. Feel no obligation to do likewise, my word-craft isn't worthy of reading most of the time, so my journal ends up being mostly pictures of my house and cats.

yeah, I'm a girlie-girl.
[User Picture]
From:marasca
Date:May 10th, 2007 05:13 am (UTC)
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This must have been crossposted all the hell over the place, and for good reason. It's the funniest thing I've read in months!


P.S. I'm glad I have cats. ;)
[User Picture]
From:edda
Date:May 10th, 2007 05:46 am (UTC)
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Oh my God, MY dog used to do that! Minus the vomiting, but she was a yard dog, so maybe she did it in far corners of our property. This is HILARIOUS.
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