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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:January 1st, 2010 05:17 pm (UTC)
Hi its angela, HAPPY NEW YEARS!

search engine optimization agency san diego
Date:January 2nd, 2010 06:57 am (UTC)

Awesome story

I loved your story. My 5 year old basset-hound "Roxie" loves sweet potatoes and carrots. As for the "Rift", I thought Roxie had access to one too until I learned she has several strategically placed hiding places for treats stashed all around the house and out in the yard too. Under pillows in the guest bedroom seems to be her favorite spot. Now if I could only teach her being a 55lb lap dog is not really do-able.
Date:January 6th, 2010 01:50 pm (UTC)

insanely funny

dude, thanks, i really needed that!
[User Picture]
Date:January 8th, 2010 11:39 am (UTC)
This is hilarious! I've linked it on the forums (dragonmount) I frequent so everyone else can see how hilarious it is!

I wanna dog! *pouts*
Date:January 10th, 2010 11:47 pm (UTC)


My dog (a malamute) would not touch meat unless it was the dry food variety, but would munch on carrots with great pleasure. It is actually good for them...

Love your work!!!
Date:January 14th, 2010 06:24 am (UTC)
Here via the Lois McMaster Bujold mailing list (of all places) (www.dendarii.com). Thank you for a really good belly laugh.
Date:January 20th, 2010 04:33 am (UTC)


Clever pup. I realize this is a comment to an old post, but I wanted to let you know that I enjoyed it.
Date:January 22nd, 2010 07:12 pm (UTC)
Oh god, this is the most hilarious thing I've seen in years - I had to stop no fewer than six times to try to remember how to breathe.
Date:January 29th, 2010 07:16 pm (UTC)

My dog Jack

This is my dog Jack, only he likes to chew things that will kill him.

Thank you. My morning has been spent fishing pop bottles (I know how he got that) and olive pits (I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THESE CAME FROM!) from my dog's mouth.
Date:January 31st, 2010 02:38 am (UTC)
This made me laugh helplessly until I cried and my asthma kicked in. (only a little)

Thank you so much!!!
[User Picture]
Date:February 9th, 2010 05:32 pm (UTC)
i'm going to throw this to my facebook friends. because THIS IS THEIR LIFE TOO. huskies mostly.

my life too - substituting cats for dog and inedible objects and semi-poisonous plants for root vegetables.

`wipes coffee sputter off the monitor
Date:February 10th, 2010 04:58 pm (UTC)

Dogs and vegetables

This story makes me laugh every time I read it and it reminds me of the evening when my wife and I were quiet watching TV and our darling beagle, prance triumphantly through the living room with an onion in her mouth.
Date:February 12th, 2010 04:52 am (UTC)
I'm reminded of a couple of doggie stories.

So the first was when my wife and I visited my step dad a few years ago. I took a chunk of freshly-smoked salmon along as a present, it being Christmas. Once we got there, we pulled it out of the suitcase, and put it into the fridge to keep better, then put the bags downstairs.

An hour later I went down to get something, and discovered that my step-dad's basenji had apparently found the smell irresistible, because she'd apparently put a great deal of effort into trying to open the zipper. To the point of destroying the suitcase.

The other story isn't mine, it's a friend's dog Chelsea. So my friend and her bf had a small party, and put out some shrimp, with cocktail sauce. Her bf, being the type who likes things hot, put out some of his jalapeno BBQ sauce.

Chelsea decided she wanted some of this. So she snagged a shrimp, coated in the jalapeno sauce. And thought it was really tasty, too! More, please?

About 20 minutes later, she apparently had a very surprised look, then ran outside through the doggy door. A _full hour later_ she came back in - looking over her shoulder to make sure that whatever it was didn't follow her back inside.
Date:February 16th, 2010 06:37 am (UTC)

The Vegetables in my house

From DownUnder, where even walking into the kitchen is dangerous, & don't dare to pick up a vegetable of any description, or 'Megs' (Border Collie X Labrador), the perpetrator of many a fresh food crime will have you rounded up & 'working' for her. What does she know?! More than me obviously! LOL
As if that isn't bad enough.....the opening of the fridge attracts not only her but the cat as well....try to get a cooked chicken out of the fridge surreptitiously with these two around.
Then there's the visitor Dog who is a sneak thief, at least I can trust my guys to leave the benches alone (I think). Don't leave anything meaty, cheesy, ricey, pasta-ish, or gravy covered anywhere or it is at the very least sniffed out & if at all possible hi-jacked & devoured.
I guess the moral of the story is.....STARVING!
No..not them us..there is no food left in my house!
[User Picture]
Date:March 1st, 2010 10:19 pm (UTC)

Two and a half years on...

Two and a half years later (roughly), and this still makes me laugh so hard I cry.
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