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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:(Anonymous)
Date:February 16th, 2009 05:15 pm (UTC)

Sweet Taters

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Hey this is Sparky (rescue poodle extrodinare) and I would like to share with you, wiat till they cook the taters they are much better and don't leave as much evedince when you eats them.... my mom starves me and I have found it nessecary to use my kitty siblings to gain access to food such as taters... I hope that they start to feeds you again soon.

Sparky AKA Fariviews Spark Plug
Carolina Poodle Rescue Dog
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From:revolos55
Date:February 21st, 2009 11:55 am (UTC)
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Just dropping back in to say that I discovered this post about a year and a half ago, shared it around, and it has subsequently become part of our lexicon of running jokes, saying to each other "woe is me, for I have never been fed."
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From:welfy
Date:February 23rd, 2009 07:22 pm (UTC)
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I vote that you submit this entry to lj_turns10. I had this in my memories!

Edited at 2009-02-23 07:23 pm (UTC)
From:(Anonymous)
Date:February 24th, 2009 12:37 pm (UTC)

The eating of a sweet potato

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You are a fabulous writer. I enjoyed that tremendously and with a few edits I think it could make a GREAT children's book! Seriously. But perhaps I think it is funny because I just had to stop my 14 month old baby boy from eating a raw sweet potato. We had the same conversation! He doesn't talk either. I just get the big blue eyes. Thanks for posting.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:February 25th, 2009 10:21 pm (UTC)

Cats

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This is why I'm a cat person.

Not that they are any better.
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From:coalboy
Date:March 2nd, 2009 03:15 am (UTC)
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I haven't read more than the first 20 comments, but have you read Max and the Typhoon, speaking of notverybright pets? That story makes me howl with laughter. I think Max comes up if you Google.
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From:hermionegsnape
Date:March 2nd, 2009 06:42 pm (UTC)
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I saw this link on wil wheaton's blog. I have cats & a guinea pig so of course this reminds me of that. Thanks for the laugh although that had to be terrible to clean up
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From:caitykitola
Date:March 14th, 2009 04:49 am (UTC)
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Oh my GOD I've had days like this. From my dogs and my cat. You have my pity!
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From:sweetsoul_slam
Date:March 15th, 2009 10:38 pm (UTC)
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You have just made my day, and I was literally in tears and very upset when I was linked to this, I ended up laughing so hard I cried funny tears and couldn't even read it out loud to my bf....you are awesomesauce ^_^

This has obviously been passed on and on because lady_zip linked me to this and she apparently had someone else link it to her...
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From:karena
Date:March 22nd, 2009 08:33 pm (UTC)
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Just read this again to cheer myself up. Yay!!!
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From:djdig
Date:March 30th, 2009 03:05 am (UTC)
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Thank you so much for sharing.

This post made my day!
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From:hrprrbn
Date:April 4th, 2009 10:49 pm (UTC)
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Was sent here by Seticat...I soooooooooooo know those days. One dog. Two cats. 'Nuff said. Thanks for posting this, not only did it make me laugh, it assured me that I'm not alone with these...animals!
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From:ramblin_phyl
Date:April 5th, 2009 04:35 pm (UTC)
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I had a Labrador retriever who stole lettuce spines from the sink, raw beets from the table, and fresh tomatoes off the vine
From:(Anonymous)
Date:April 6th, 2009 03:21 pm (UTC)

Laughing too hard to write

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Really, I'm still laughing too hard to tell you how much you brightened my day. I am NOT, however, reading this to my evil dog. He has enough ideas without any encouragement!
From:(Anonymous)
Date:April 6th, 2009 06:37 pm (UTC)
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Thanks for a snorting good laugh!

Shortly after getting my first dog, a terrier/bird-dog mutt, from a shelter, I left him alone for the day. When I came home from grad school, I was annoyed to discover that I had apparently hallucinated picking up garlic at the grocer's on my weekly trip. It was a bit of a hike to the store, and I was tired, so I grimaced and made spaghetti sauce without garlic.

It was only later that night, when I climbed into bed, that I discovered what had become of my pungent purchase. As I lifted my pillow to pull back the covers, a full head of garlic tumbled out into the lamp light. Yes, for reasons unknown, my dog had taken it off the kitchen counter and "buried" it in my bedding.

He had never taken anything off the counter before, nor did he do so again for the remaining 16 years of his life. My only guess is that he figured out how to turn on my little B&W TV, saw a vampire movie and got spooked...
From:lhun_dweller
Date:April 6th, 2009 06:38 pm (UTC)

oops...

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...didn't mean to hide behind "anon"!
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