Friday, September 17, 2010

I can has sweet potato?

Many readers are probably familiar with a wonderfully funny LiveJournal post from 2007, describing a man's (fruitless) attempts to stop his dog devouring every sweet potato in the house. Here's a short extract.

[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.

. . .

[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.

I remember laughing myself silly reading it, way back . . . but unfortunately I lost track of it, along with many other funny bits and pieces that came through my inbox.

To my great pleasure, I ran across it again this week - now with about 30 pages of comments added! It's every bit as funny as I remember it. For those who own (or are owned by) dogs, it'll ring particularly true - as will the comments.

For your reading pleasure, then (if you haven't already read it), I point you to "I has a sweet potato". Go read, and have a good laugh!



Anonymous said...

If you can keep the dog out of them, they make pretty tasty fries, too.


Anonymous said...

My parents first post-child housecat was a bit addlepated. He would carry off and eat bread, bagels and waffles. You'd turn you back to the counter and zip! off he went dragging his prey to shred and eat under the closest bed. He had a few other problems, too.