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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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Date:November 22nd, 2007 03:06 am (UTC)

Sweet Potato

I can not thank you enough for this post! I read it out load this morning to my husband and there were tears running down my checks due to laughing so hard!

This is my life with my dogs! It was brilliant!
[User Picture]
Date:November 22nd, 2007 03:41 am (UTC)
I love you, your dog, your potatoes, and every person that linked this fabulous thing. Eat on, you crazy 'tater-loving dog!
[User Picture]
Date:November 22nd, 2007 06:54 am (UTC)
One human is NOT ENOUGH.

Very evidently true. Where did she get all the sweet potatoes from, anyway? (Yes, I realize you speculate she materialized them from the Rift.) This was hilarious enough to scare away my cat. :-)
Date:November 23rd, 2007 04:22 am (UTC)

Linked from our blog

You are a gifted writer. Thanks for the laughs! We linked from our family blog at CorgiFeathers(dot)typepad(dot)com(backslash)CorgiFeathers. Come visit us!

[User Picture]
Date:November 23rd, 2007 06:08 am (UTC)
Oh dear, that was pee-my-pants funny!
[User Picture]
Date:November 23rd, 2007 07:21 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for posting this. ^_^ I love reading it when I need a laugh. :D
I have a dog who is very much like that, but we don't have any sweet potatoes. She uses carrots instead. >_
Date:November 24th, 2007 01:39 am (UTC)
This - is - priceless! I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. Two of my three cats came to see what's so funny, and I'm SO glad that they don't know how to read... they're bad enough without any outside encouragement. The dogs know better than to even try for people food, which is most likely due to the fact that we passed the stage of leaving edibles accessible years ago in this household.
You have my sympathy. I remember those days well... *grin*.
[User Picture]
Date:November 24th, 2007 05:50 pm (UTC)
I just linked from my journal. I'm sorry you had such a bad day, but thanks for sharing it. :)
[User Picture]
Date:November 25th, 2007 01:24 am (UTC)
My friend's dog, Charlie, is an alcoholic.
True story, this.
Lemme give you a few examples, you'll find them amusing, and they relate well to this story above, which I happened to StumbleUpon just now. ^_^.

First time I realized Charlie was an alchy, I was spendng the night with my friend, and she had a full red-plastic-party-cup of beer sitting on a table that wasn't very high up, maybe 3 feet?
We were outside.
Our other friend, very drunk, stumbled outside, flung her foot wildly around, and kicked the cup over.
Charlie, having been asleep, 2 rooms over, and a floor up, hears the cup fall, and comes running outside.
He then proceeds to stick his face into the beer.
Someone reached down to pet him, and he swung his head around like "Look, I'm getting drunk. Don't bother me."

Two weeks later, he was left on the same porch while we in classes for the day. Apparently, someone had left a beer can out there.
Charlie, deciding he's thirsty, and doesn't want the water out there for him, EATS A CHUNK OF THE BEER CAN TO SEE IF THERE IS ANY BEER LEFT.

Date:November 25th, 2007 08:19 pm (UTC)

A fond memory of a beagle and a flower box with sweet potato vines

LOVED reading this- brought back memories of a long-gone beagle, my beloved Barney, who loved sweet potatoes so much that he figured out how to get at flower boxes and knock them over to disgorge the tasty bits of sweet potatoes I'd buried in them ( in hopes of generating cascading sweet potato vines. Never got them. Barney got to them first).

Thank you for bringing back fond memories of my Barney. And you never knew him!
Date:November 26th, 2007 06:17 pm (UTC)
OH MY GOD; I have the dog's sibling at my house...the most recent repast consisted of bananas stolen off the counter, out of the basket and it appears that he ate 2, the first skin and all the second not so much skin, sadly he waits until I leave to help himself so I don't know what the sound effects are like...
Date:November 28th, 2007 02:01 am (UTC)

Your dog sounds like a cutie

You can thank dooce.com for yet another comment. Loved your little script-pictured it all in my head as a little animated story.

Just had to add another hungry lab story: Our pooch Remington (aka "garbage hound") took advantage of any opportunity to eat he could find. As sure as I could brush him all day and never stop getting hair out, his hunger was insatiable.

Take the time we never knew he ate the bread bag. You know, the one with a couple of crumbs in it we thru away. Sure enough, we watched it come out in the back yard wondering, "what the hell IS that?!"

We'll also never forget the time he got into the garbage somehow and ate leftover chicken bones then couldn't poop for three days. He'd be working his tail off pumping and pumping out there in the back yard trying to get something going but he was stopped up like concrete. Was kind of comical even though it was scary not knowing if something was going to perforate. I called the vet's office and explained the problem. The solution? A vaseline sandwich. "Excuse me, did you say vaseline sandwich? He'll never eat that!" was my reply. How wrong I was. After gulping down that piece of bread with greasy petroleum by-product he gave me a look to say, "MMMMM, how 'bout another?"

Suffice it to say, later that day out came hard-packed chewed poultry bones. I don't know how his butt wasn't bleeding!

Rem's been gone several years now and we still miss him. I picture him over the Rainbow Bridge rummaging thru garbage heaven.
[User Picture]
Date:December 2nd, 2007 03:43 am (UTC)

Thank you!

Oh, man, this was funny. I posted briefly about it here on my own journal.

Thank you for bringing back fond memories of one of my own dogs from when I was a teen.

[User Picture]
Date:December 3rd, 2007 10:59 pm (UTC)
If you'd feed the dog and stop starving him, things like this might not happen. ;)
[User Picture]
Date:December 4th, 2007 04:54 pm (UTC)
One of my cats, and corn husks. I'm just sayin'.

They get shucked at the store now, or triple bagged and I hope he doesn't notice. Gah.

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