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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.]


Date:May 8th, 2007 09:43 pm (UTC)
See, I told you the dogs missed you - they didn't have nearly as much fun with me.

I hesitate to ask this, but where did she get the root vegetables?
[User Picture]
Date:May 8th, 2007 10:00 pm (UTC)

At least, I think she did. I never actually saw her do it, but they were in the bowl and then they were in her mouth, so you be the judge.
[User Picture]
Date:May 8th, 2007 10:10 pm (UTC)
[User Picture]
Date:May 8th, 2007 10:21 pm (UTC)
I would not be at all surprised.

Of course, if she has developed a superpower, I am DOOMED. But I was fairly doomed anyway, so I'm managing to face the prospect without open hysteria and first-pounding and shrieks of, "WHY ME, GOD? WHYYYYYYY?"

(Also, your icon nearly killed me. Death from joy still a very likely outcome, here. OMG! EEEE! Best icon ever!)
[User Picture]
Date:May 8th, 2007 10:29 pm (UTC)
Isn't this the most marvelous icon? It's by jolinar_x_icons and it's sharable (with credit to her, of course) if you'd like to snag it.
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 03:23 pm (UTC)
Is that O'Neill with the dog he was giving Cassandra?
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 04:57 pm (UTC)
Yep, the little Shiba Inu. :-)
[User Picture]
Date:August 16th, 2007 05:28 am (UTC)

Icon Woe

Oh, sadness. I went looking for jolinar_x_icons for more Icon Joy and discovered that the journal's been deleted and purged. More links?

*lurves the icon too*

[User Picture]
Date:May 9th, 2007 04:57 am (UTC)
Quakes at thought of canine superpowers. Bad enough that Emma (seen in icon) can open doors which have handles (as opposed to knobs), and can undo zippers.
[User Picture]
Date:May 10th, 2007 12:30 am (UTC)
Years ago I read a book about dogs that gave a list of smart breeds that were good problem-solvers and then noted that good problem-solving is not really a virtue in a dog: "Remember, to a dog, a closed door is a PROBLEM."

Much like tasty sweet potatoes in a bowl placed out of reach.
Date:May 13th, 2007 04:09 pm (UTC)
Vaguely wondering how hilleviw discovered that Emma is able to undo zippers.... but afraid to ask....
[User Picture]
Date:May 13th, 2007 10:55 pm (UTC)
She was traveling with me from New England to California and was in a travel crate under the seat in front of me. She'd been sitting there still and silent for quite a while, and must've gotten bored. Figured out that she could push the zipper tab, and suddenly the man next to me screamed "It's ALIVE" as her little fuzzy head emerged and looked around.

Once she discovered that zippers were part of her skillset, she also worked out that when I wear a dress with a zipper and I'm sitting next to her, and I want to stand up before she's ready...a claw in the pulltab can promptly change my plans.
Date:October 9th, 2008 02:56 pm (UTC)
They try to keep her in but she always manages to get out, and they don't always know it. I've taught my kids to stay away from her.
Date:October 9th, 2008 04:04 pm (UTC)
The teachers were told they had to come to a meeting and they did, but were not told they had to listen, so they didn't.
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