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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]
From:Inés Flores
Date:September 1st, 2011 05:43 pm (UTC)


You made my day. I know this post is from more than four years ago, but I think it's been that long since the last time I laughed as hard.

So thanks.

(Wipes her eyes while still giggling)
[User Picture]
Date:September 30th, 2011 09:40 pm (UTC)

One potato, two potato...

Somebody sent me the link to this. I know you are aware how funny it is, so I won't bother pointing that out. Just wanted to share that this Made My Day. Thank you so much for sharing! Just so's you know, none of MY dogs is ever fed either...

[User Picture]
Date:November 8th, 2011 04:01 pm (UTC)
I was linked to this and it utterly made my morning. Four years later, your comedy is going strong around the Interwebs. Thank you.
[User Picture]
Date:November 15th, 2011 11:10 pm (UTC)

Your dog is not the only one

[User Picture]
Date:November 20th, 2011 08:18 am (UTC)

Loved it

This made me laugh out loud-- while eyeing my puppy suspiciously. She's a locavore who loves stone fruit. How do I know this? Well, after ignoring grocery store fruit for a year, when I started buying Farmers Market fruit, she got very interested...until one day, I came home, put my market basket way up high, ran back outside for something else...and returned to an overturned basket on the floor, and a "path" of half-eaten fruit leading to her dog bed, where she was drunk on plums, peaches and nectarines. She did that in five minutes! I thought it was a one-time thing, but when I took her to the Farmers Market, I quickly had to remove her-- she was trying to steal more fruit!

Thank you for this post. :) It made me feel like I wasn't alone.
[User Picture]
Date:December 5th, 2011 11:50 pm (UTC)
"Unfortunate details ensue."

Love it.
[User Picture]
Date:December 22nd, 2011 11:33 am (UTC)
I know you aren't responding to comments, but I wanted to tell you that you made a difference. My mother died December 6th, the funeral was last Monday. And a very, very, very dear friend in Canada who reads your blog and remembered this entry called me up, and after listening to me cry, and crying with me, told it to me from memory over the phone. And then searched for it and emailed me the link so I could read the original. She made me smile for the first time in days and days. Your words made me smile. And remember that life goes on, with illicit sweet potatoes that materialize from the Rift.

Thank you. I hope the coming new year brings you much joy and very very little orange dog barf.
[User Picture]
Date:December 23rd, 2011 11:54 pm (UTC)
I'm pretty sure that your dog and my dog are related. Or, perhaps, they are secretly the same animal, as in this way they/she can con two people into feeding her. (Mine ate firewood today. Twice. Also two bowls of dog food, three cookies, and a whole carrot that I dropped while making lunch. And yet, she continues to give me the STARVING eyes.)
[User Picture]
Date:January 27th, 2012 03:33 pm (UTC)
I have read this, and re-read this, and re-read this yet again, and every time I read it I laugh until I hurt and share it widely. Thank you, yet again, for this FABULOUS tale.
[User Picture]
Date:April 17th, 2012 07:08 pm (UTC)
I have a dear friend who is going through some issues with her Lab, Lucy. (Poor pitiful Lucy HAS to raid the garbage, etc. The mean humans have her on DIET food of all things!)
I immediately thought of this post to send to my friend to let her know she wasn't alone.

While my Sadie-dog doesn't go after root vegetables, she has been known to get a bread bag open by removing the tie and not tearing the bag. Sealth bomber and trained nijias have nothing on a food-obessed dog.
[User Picture]
From:Lizzie Lynch
Date:May 20th, 2012 09:27 pm (UTC)
Reminds me of the days when I had a lab cross dalmation. That dog would eat anything, window frames included. She once ate the pegs that secured the bench in the kitchen, it was quite funny when it fell apart, but it wasn't me sitting on it. She would empty the bin in five minutes. She ate all my spices and the rack she managed to get off the wall above the kitchen work surface! She also ate my husbands mobile phone mic in the days of car phones before it even went live. I once came home to smell gas and she'd jumped up to look on the hob for food and managed to to turn the gas on. It's a good job I didn't come home at night we'd both be dead! My husband once found her shaking in her bed (yes there was the capacity for guilt but she couldn't stop herself) and she had 6 eggs under her belly, all unbroken. The list goes on and on, I feel your pain!
[User Picture]
From:Jay Silverfish
Date:July 17th, 2012 07:26 pm (UTC)
Someone linked this to my Facebook page today and I've shared it again to my page and to a FB group. It is so beautifully written and so funny, that though I've read it before, it's well worth reading again. I'm very fortunate that neither of my dogs steal - either things or food. I'm so very thankful for that, especially when I read a post like this!

Thank you - once again - for the laugh!
[User Picture]
Date:October 25th, 2012 11:07 am (UTC)
Seriously, I am laughing so hard that I'm crying..
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