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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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From:meri_psychcmedm
Date:May 13th, 2007 11:51 pm (UTC)

Y'know, you HAVE to microwve them...

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I have iguanas. You have to understand that in order to understand why there are ALWAYS sweet potatoes in my house: igs *LURV* them! :)

In September I got a 12 week old Kuvasz puppy. (For those of you not familiar wiht Kuvasz puppies, get your cute overload by google images'ing "kuvasz puppies" -- then go to http://www.kuvaz.com and red up on their History -- it's *really* worth doing in order to understand what I'm about to say.) Shortly thereafter, my sweet, cute, 35# kuvasz puppy got her first taste of the formerly-reserved-for-iguana-treats sweet potato --

AND I NEARLY LOST MY F'N *HAND!!*

Repeat, every night since that first time, as my puppy grows to now be an 80# 11 month old ///bundle of puppy Kuvasz LOOOOOOOVE///adolescent sweet potato-loving Kuvasz.

*cough!*

So: my advice is as follows (and trust me, it's ALREADY too late to go back with this):

Microwave or bake the sweet potato *before* offering it to your dogs.

...And give up thinking they won't get any, ever again. The only way *that* could possibly happen is if they stop making them ;)

Surrender to your fate. You're STUCK. ...Just like those bits on the floor ;)

Best wishes,

--Meri


From:meri_psychcmedm
Date:May 14th, 2007 05:33 am (UTC)

Re: Y'know, you HAVE to microwve them...

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Okay, it seems the wireless keyboard has been dropping characters again (or: I've been typing too fast again ;) ). That link should've been:

http://www.kuvasz.com

Take a look at the History page, for some interesting background info :)

--Meri
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From:ladyrogue79
Date:May 14th, 2007 04:57 pm (UTC)
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Here from MQ. Oh god, this post is made of win and I think I snorted Dr. Pepper. Consider yourself friended.
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From:hobbituk
Date:May 14th, 2007 09:40 pm (UTC)
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I read this and oh! how I missed my beagle... *sigh*

She was always starved too. The fact the vet insisted I put her on a diet every time we went for a checkup was immaterial. Of course, trips to the vet were traumatic anyway because of the whole *whispers* taking the temperature thing. *shudders at the memory*. I didn't know a beagle could make so much noise with no actual, you know, pain...
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From:conqbine
Date:May 15th, 2007 01:18 am (UTC)
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Next time your dog does this cut a lime and wipe/squeeze the juice all over the sweet potatoe. Leave the room with the sweet potatoe where it was on the counter and go get a camera ready for the face it will make...trust me. /cackles

Whenever my pup gets brazen like this we get out the lime and sometimes just chase her around the house with the lime half afterwards to prove the point.

/signed The Lime of DOOOOM Lady


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From:isarian
Date:May 29th, 2007 03:47 am (UTC)
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I was just amused even more by the thought of using a syringe to inject lime juice or something suitably nasty into the actual inside of the root vegetable in question. Classical conditioning works wonders.

Pavlov's dogs are in the hiz-ouse ^_^
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From:ysobelle
Date:May 15th, 2007 06:17 am (UTC)
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I hope you don't mind, but I may have to-- with proper attribution, of course-- send this to every dog-owned human I know. I myself have-- or, more properly, am in thrall to a dog who chews rocks. ROCKS, for the love of heaven. And we won't get into the cat with the suicidal addiction to organdy ribbon.

Thank you so very much.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:May 15th, 2007 02:43 pm (UTC)

Such a shame...

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Its always a shame to see people leeching other people's writing styles. I mean, it's funny I guess, but it would have been more funny had you done a regular "story".

Leech
From:(Anonymous)
Date:June 3rd, 2007 03:41 pm (UTC)

Re: Such a shame...

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WTF? Dude, you're an asshole.

The story was hilarious. As an editor I can tell you that it is in no way derivative. But it is hiarious. Tears were running down my face. Thanks for the best five minutes I've had all day =)
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From:sweete_ladye
Date:May 15th, 2007 09:51 pm (UTC)
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Great Googly Moogely! Thank you for making my day. Really. Thank you.

My dog story involves on cocker spaniel who could not figure out what to do with grapes.

Small ball? Food? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY!! WHAT IS IT?!?
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From:nomdiplume
Date:May 15th, 2007 10:00 pm (UTC)
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Oh my lord. Forgive the comment from a stranger - but a friend linked to this and I just about bust a gut. Also a dog lover. You had me laughing out loud at my desk! Thanks for sharing.
-J
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From:lucabellalu
Date:May 15th, 2007 10:49 pm (UTC)
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I agree with you. My mom sent the link and people asked at work what I was laughing at.......you may have made history with this story. The link was sent around our dog friendly work!

Salute.
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From:lucabellalu
Date:May 15th, 2007 10:48 pm (UTC)
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That was hilarious! I have to add you.
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From:whittles
Date:May 16th, 2007 01:13 am (UTC)
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This story wins the WHOLE day.
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From:ozma914
Date:May 16th, 2007 02:19 am (UTC)

LOL!

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OMG! So you're the one who adopted my last dog!?!
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From:ladycat98
Date:May 23rd, 2007 02:30 pm (UTC)

Re: LOL!

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Then you must be the one that didn't fed it??? HAHAHAHHA
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From:toft_froggy
Date:May 16th, 2007 08:32 am (UTC)
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*almost throws up orange with laughter*
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From:julephenia
Date:May 17th, 2007 05:23 am (UTC)
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Linked from my flist, and I doubt you're reading anymore, but oh, you made me miss my dog, in a good way.

I had a Scottie, as a kid, and you will never meet a dumber dog (seriously sat and waited for squirrels to come DOWN the tree towards him - evil things would jump to a tree behind dog and just look at him). Rags ate a chocolate gift to my mother (complete with wooden crate and wrapping paper, though not the tag), my Barbie dolls, a book I'd just finished reading for a book report (we bagged it), and attempted to eat my American Girl dolls before I banished him for a week. (He never tried that again.)

However, the best part was giving him lemons. He always wanted lemons. My father would cut it up, use it, and then present it to Rags. Rags would sniff, lick, startle/wince, back up, rinse and repeat. At least three times, and it never failed. He just couldn't understand the concept of sour. Endless hours of amusement.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:May 17th, 2007 09:22 am (UTC)

So Funny

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This is the funniest thing I have read in a long time. I'm sending the link to all my friends (and I never, ever do that!)

Thanks for brightening up my day with your crappy one.

Gina
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