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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:lady_lolth
Date:May 17th, 2007 08:13 pm (UTC)
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Hi ! I don't know you at all but I had to search you out to credit the story. It is fantastic!! Even tho It is already posted, do you mind if I repost? Better late then never :)
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From:allez_cuisine
Date:May 18th, 2007 02:21 pm (UTC)

WOE.

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Is your dog part basset? Because I get the look of WOE constantly from my hound. He will bat me with his oversized paw until I say "Oh ALL RIGHT!" and give him a crumb of something.

We haven't had the Sweet Potato Experience, but this week it was the flyers from the Sunday paper that were deemed a tasty snack by another 'starving' canine.
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From:see_me_naked
Date:May 18th, 2007 03:30 pm (UTC)
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LOL. Sounds like your dog is 10% smarter than you. And has learned how to open the fridge.
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From:rainswolf
Date:May 19th, 2007 06:20 pm (UTC)
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Someone referred me to this post. OMG, we have the same exact dog!!!
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From:michellewhois
Date:May 20th, 2007 12:52 pm (UTC)
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Hope you don't mind but I would love to post this elsewhere. It had me laughing myself silly and I think it would help to make a few friends day.
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From:ladycat98
Date:May 23rd, 2007 02:26 pm (UTC)

*wiping tears of laughter from my face*

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toooooo funny!!!! just consider yourself lucky that dog didn't pay you back with passing gas for stealing the taters and not feeding them HAHAHAHA
From:(Anonymous)
Date:May 24th, 2007 08:25 pm (UTC)

Cat and Chicken

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Great Story!

Our "runt of the litter" kitty who turned into a cat who could reach the back of the counter while standing on the floor, loved chicken. Just like any other kitty, he would purr *motorboat* and rub and stretch for his favorite. One night we left a cassarole dish of a full oven baked chicken on the counter for my Dad. Dad didn;t go straight home to eat, but came directly to the show. Two hours later we all return home. Upon flicking on the kitchen light, we are meet with a chicken skeleton and one very stuffed kitty stretched out on the floor next to it.
"I can't believe I ate the whole thing" look upon his face.
---
Don't even get me started w/ Dog stories. :-)
"Into each day, a little fur must fall."
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From:rhyssafireheart
Date:May 25th, 2007 02:13 am (UTC)
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OMG! I'm crying here! That was so freaking hilarious, and yet somehow, I can imagine my Golden doing something similar.

Found the link over on nebroadwe's page. Glad I followed the link. I think I'll have to forward this on for my gaming guild, they will love it.

Thanks so much for posting it!
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From:paintbrush12
Date:May 25th, 2007 03:08 am (UTC)

ba

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HAHAHAHHAAHHAAAAHAHHAAHAHA
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From:babyofmine
Date:May 26th, 2007 05:04 pm (UTC)

hahahahahahaha

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can't. stop! LAUGHING!!! :D :D :D
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From:callendrethe
Date:May 28th, 2007 09:52 pm (UTC)
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Wow... The dog/potato thing doesn't surprise me, but that narrative was impressive.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:May 29th, 2007 07:11 pm (UTC)
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Reminds me of the time my dog ate a box of Crayons and pooping rainbows for a few days.
Myassis.Dragon - just visiting - and wiping thw tears from my eyes.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:May 29th, 2007 07:12 pm (UTC)
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Reminds me of the time my dog ate a box of Crayons and pooped rainbows for a few days.
Myassis.Dragon - just visiting - and wiping the tears from my eyes.
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From:bammba_m
Date:May 30th, 2007 05:40 pm (UTC)
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Hi! i've been reading your posts and find them absolutely delightful, so i've added you to my flist.

That's really it.

Oh, and this was a brilliant post.
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From:therienne
Date:June 1st, 2007 04:45 pm (UTC)
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Pssst. You just made it onto the front page of Petconnection.com!
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