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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:June 12th, 2007 05:36 am (UTC)
Utterly, utterly delightful.

Well, the writing part, anyway. The results? Not so much.
[User Picture]
Date:June 13th, 2007 04:19 am (UTC)
Holy crap that was absolutely hilarious!
[User Picture]
Date:June 16th, 2007 05:40 pm (UTC)
OMG I have a lab and this made me laugh so hard I had tears. A typical day in our house! What kind of dog was it?
[User Picture]
Date:June 16th, 2007 06:08 pm (UTC)
This is just about the funniest thing I have ever heard. And I ditto germankitty on the dachshund fun, because my dachsie would TOTALLY do something like that.
[User Picture]
Date:June 18th, 2007 11:36 am (UTC)


Thanks! I laughed so hard, tears are running down my face...
[User Picture]
Date:June 20th, 2007 02:52 pm (UTC)
Wow. That may have been the best thing ever.
Date:June 21st, 2007 05:13 pm (UTC)

Set your settings to PRIVATE!

I saw a site that is copying your work! You should set your settings to private!!! Not a joke.
[User Picture]
Date:June 21st, 2007 06:40 pm (UTC)
Oh this is priceless! ROFLMAO Thanks for linking to it. I missed it the first time.
[User Picture]
Date:June 21st, 2007 08:15 pm (UTC)
I'm a bit late to the shindig, I know, but seriously that has totally made my (otherwise pretty crappy) day.

*dies of funny*
Date:June 22nd, 2007 12:57 pm (UTC)

At least your dog goes after the healthy stuff

Our lab ate THREE AND A HALF POUNDS (raw weight) of spare ribs that had been left to cool on the back of the stove in about half an hour while we went to the train station to pick up a guest... When we got home, she was so full her apologetic roll over was limited to a squinty head tilt. There was nothing left of dinner but a bunch of greasy footprints on the kitchen floor and one so-clean-it-was-unused-looking pan in the corner. I took a photo of her distended stomach because it was so horrible and funny, but lay awake all night listening to her breathe, fearing the worst---perforated bowel from the bones, pancreatitis from the grease, bloat from the sheer quantity of food. The next day we had to leave her in the yard for fear the volume of dog gas would set off the fire alarms, but that was the extent of the damage. Someday someone is going to patent the all-digestive system that is found in any Laborador and apply it to landfills as a compaction device...
[User Picture]
Date:June 26th, 2007 11:03 pm (UTC)

Re: At least your dog goes after the healthy stuff

Hey, at least she didn't eat chocolate by the truckload. That's more on the realm of a beagle, though. My mother in law has the world's most idiot savant beagle, by her own estimate, unless it comes to food. When it comes to food, she is nothing short of a machiavelian mastermind.

Last winter, a friend of my sister in law's decided to do something very thoughtful for her: my sister in law loves chocolate cupcakes, so her friend baked her some and stopped by my MIL's house to drop them off so that my SIL would be pleasantly suprised. Knowing about the dog, she put the cupcakes in a high grade plastic container with childproof/spillproof locks, and puts it towards the back of the kitchen counter of my MIL's house. MIL was already on her way out, so she left the house for what she guesses was less than an hour to run a very short errand.

Long story short, she ate 11 out of 18 standard size cupcakes before someone came home and discovered the deed. By which point the dog was too wired to eat more. Oh, but it doesn't end there. The dog is yelled at, the vet is called. The vet, relieved at the fact that it wasn't tylenol this time (and that's another terrific story about her), says to wait and see, and bring her in only if she vomits. Meanwhile, she should probably not eat anymore food. Usually this particular dog would be unhappy about that verdict, but she was in really high spirits. Why was she in really high spirits? As my SIL found out later that evening, the reason why the dog was not upset about the whole thing was that she had stashed one of the 11 cupcakes in my SIL's room, for later consumption.
[User Picture]
Date:June 26th, 2007 02:23 am (UTC)
Oh dude. Hilarious. Added to mems :)
Date:June 27th, 2007 08:18 am (UTC)
This is hilarious.

Have you read "Marley and Me"? The dog devours ripe mangos and poops piles "the size and color of traffic cones".
[User Picture]
Date:June 27th, 2007 11:58 am (UTC)
I feel some of your pain...

My hubby and I came home one day and saw that we'd forgotten to close the kitchen door before we left. Our little dachshund somehow managed to open the cubord door and pull out the trash can and had then proceeded to dump trash all over the floor. We had just cleaned out the fridge too so as I was throwing moldy cheese and stale tortilla shells back into the garbage I couldn't figure out for the life of me what it was that he was going for. Well... I coulnd't figure it out, that is, until I came across an empty soup can. An empty soup can that HAD been filled up to the top with several months worth of beef grease... The dog got to spend the night on the patio and clean-up was less than fun the next morning. :-P blech.
[User Picture]
Date:June 28th, 2007 12:02 am (UTC)
I'm in the "at least your dog goes after healthy stuff" mindset; mine is partial to unattended office supplies: paper clips, rubber bands, etc., including metal filing cabinets. Not a good thing. Many thanks for the laughs. :)
[User Picture]
Date:June 28th, 2007 04:20 pm (UTC)
This is, without a doubt, the funniest thing I've read in quite a while. I'm sure it wasn't fun to live through -- especially when the dog got sick! -- but your retelling of it is just plain priceless. Thanks for sharing (and for letting others link it around)!
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