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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 12th, 2007 05:04 am (UTC)
Ok, it's 1am and everyone in the house is sound asleep and I should be too and instead I'm laughing so hard I'm crying and my nose is running and ohmygod my face hurts and I'm going to wake everyone up laughing so hard, must be quiet must be quiet--


Ah. Ok. Much better. Got it (*snicker*) under control (*chortle, snerk*) now.

Thanks very much for posting this.

[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 05:10 am (UTC)
I want to feel bad, but strangely, I cannot.

The puke, it was orange. Bright orange! Heheheheheheheheh.
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 06:00 am (UTC)
That was awesome! I had tears in my eyes I was laughing so hard.

Dog: Pity me, a sad and tragic creature, for I can barely walk, I am so starving. WOE.

[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 07:56 am (UTC)
That is one very determined (and hungry) dog. Hee!
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 09:32 am (UTC)
I was pointed here by brisingamen and then I wandered around reading some of your other posts, and after the boobs one and the tampon one I just knew I had to add you :)
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 10:06 am (UTC)
I adored this! Had me rolling on the floor. Thankyou. Not a great day from your point of view, but a good evening from mine.
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 10:45 am (UTC)
Absolutely histerical!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Date:May 12th, 2007 01:01 pm (UTC)

is the Dog perhaps an Eskie?

That is the absolute FUNNIEST thing I have read in a long time.

I swear, that Dog must have come from the same Dog Brain Distribution Center as mine.

My dog also has a supernatural obsession with root vegetables, tho not to the extreme that you described. Then again, my little burger flipper of the dog world also eats cat turds. He tells me they taste like squirrel and that's why he likes them.
Date:May 12th, 2007 01:23 pm (UTC)
So, like many, many people, I came here via a link, and have since been rolling in my chair laughing helplessly. *applauds, giggling a LOT*
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 02:20 pm (UTC)
Got here from a friends link.

This is so fucking hysterical, I am crying and my sides are in serious pain from reading this. You rock.
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 05:28 pm (UTC)
Too funny, laughing so hard - it hurts. A friend told me to check out your post because I can totally relate. I have two demon spawn who each stand over 3' at the shoulder ( Irish Wolfhounds). Nothing on the counters, in drawers, or in closets can escape a hungry hound.This post made my day.
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 06:10 pm (UTC)
Oh golly... That's just hysterical! I, too, have had creative canines, most notably the one who partnered with the cat to steal the bread and share it all over the house. I followed a link from ORAC at Science Blogs; so glad I did. ^__^
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 06:38 pm (UTC)
This is the best, most accurate dog conversation ever. I love this.
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 07:31 pm (UTC)
(rolls about on floor, helpless with mirth)

If it helps, once upon a time my father had a cat that adored cantaloupe rinds. Whenever we had cantaloupe, we had to take the rinds straight out to the outside garbage or Hubert would eat them and unfortunate results would arrive from both ends of the cat.

He was also freaky on mint chocolate chip ice cream, but that didn't do such a number on his digestive track. Oh, and he liked tomato sauce, but only the kind with hot peppers in it.

That was one weird cat.

Good luck with the root vegetables!
[User Picture]
Date:May 12th, 2007 08:08 pm (UTC)
that made me laugh hard enough that I'm friending you now. Hello!
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