Random: Now that's one evil little dog ...

[nebroadwe]

Today, thanks to the good offices of nateprentice (who need not offer me any other birthday present now), I read the funniest "Pets: Who Knows What They're Really Thinking?" piece I've seen since Charlie Stross posted his little riff on the interior life of cats a month of Sundays ago. littera_abactor had a go-round with his dog and some root vegetables, which is "summarized in conversation form" over here. I quote from it this excerpt to give you some idea why I was stuffing a handkerchief into my mouth at work:

[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.]

Please, go and read the whole anecdote. Put down your coffee/tea/juice/champagne first, though. And have a handkerchief handy.

Comments

[silverkatie.livejournal.com]

LOVED. THAT. POST.
*laughs uncontrollably*
*falls out of chair*
*continues to laugh*

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

Isn't it great? I swear, I'm going to bring it on Sunday and read it aloud at dinner. My birthday present to myself: watching everyone splork their food.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

And that, Best Beloved, is the bestest gift of all.