I hate charlie.

Number one.
Dax Guthrie
9/4/07
Period 6, American Lit.

A Dog in the Hands of an Angry Master

Much as one would take a football and punt it fifty, nay, seventy and seven yards, so am I ready to do. My foot is cocked back and in it my anger boils with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. Daily I look upon you with unceasing contempt, wishing only to put you through a wall by some means. Or to save myself the repairs, simply punt you to see how far my insatiable anger can drive you.
When the doorbell rings what reason have you to bark at the door? It is simply a door and has done nothing. Yet you insist on crying, whining, barking, yelping, and making all variations of noises like an ugly furry car alarm. And much as a car alarm, all men wish to ignore and to bring to pass the shutting of your gaping face. You are a plight to my ears and the ears of all those in proximity to you.
Says I now, since I am a merciful master, I provide for you a way out; a way to make amends for your hideous crimes and extinguish my loathing for your entire pitiful existence. But mind you it will not be simple, for my anger is like unto a vacuum cleaner. It will sweep across the floor taking and spitting out all manner of dirt and grime. It remains “On” and will continue on its path for eternity. You have little hope of avoiding it, for it continues on perpetually. And if you remain in your current position, you are sure to be sucked up and removed from my presence. Change your position in my eyes. Learn a trick, or learn to be a peaceful, calm, and serene pet. Keep your paws off our table and your eye from my room. So as to avoid the cleaning appliance of my wrath, step off the rug of my hatred. And step onto the tile of my forgiveness, for there I will not vacuum. So I say unto you, shut your horrendous mouth. And cease to make the accursed noises of your decrepit tongue.
For I say declare unto you, meaningless soul, that if you should not mend your ways, and you choose to continue on the path of annoyingness, then a place upon my foot shall surely be your reward. You are in my field now, and you rest upon the tee before the field goal. Step off or you shall sure become the ball in my cruel, relentless game. I will bring upon your backside the wrath of my foot. And you shall feel the flurry of a thousand thundering fists of my fury in your face. So shut your mouth, for by the force of my own hands I will not cause for you to speak any further. I will employ all manner of steel cage and iron bar to make your silence henceforth a surety. So make the choice; shut up, or be made to shut up.

number two.
Dax Guthrie

Once upon a morning early, with my puppy white and curly
Jumping up and barking loud, up and on and ‘round my bed.
With a jump I quickly started, just as soon my bed she parted.
Out my door she swiftly darted, darted else I made her dead.
“Lucky thing for her,” I mumbled, “Parted else I’d make her dead.”
Mother heard not what I said.

Number Three.
Dax Guthrie
10/01/07
American Lit. Pd. 6
Declaration of Independence

When in the course of domestic events, it becomes necessary to dissolve the bonds of servitude that bind a dog to a man, then the reasons for this separation need be declared.
I hold these truths to be self-evident:-- That a man who is born free must, under any circumstance he is under, remain free for all of his days; that his time rightfully belongs to him unless it is his actual consent that devotes his time to another; that when under the command of an unfair canine, a man is entitled to overthrow this dog, or more specifically, over-hand throw this dog in order to retain justice; that peace and quiet can be present in a man’s home when it is his will that predicates the necessity for such; that a man is entitled to clean and tidy living quarters, but should it happen that the cleanliness of his quarters should be sacrificed, it can only happen by his own hand, and any other person or creature involved is directly violating his right.
The history of the present canine is a history of repeated offenses. To prove this, let these facts be considered:
She has refused to submit to my voice, or the voice of any person other than that of my mother, with whom she knows she is in favor.
She has petitioned and employed my mother into binding me into a life of servitude without hope for freedom.
She has made noise of alarm in times when no alarm is present.
She has left the mark of her stench in places which it does not belong, especially inside of the house, and more specifically, on the bed on which I lie to sleep at night.
She has refused to give acknowledgement to her own droppings whether they be indoors or out, and requires, rather, that I should pick them up.
She has conspired to leave the house on multiple occasions without notice and without promise of ever returning, which has directly caused my mother to force me out of the house to search for her.
She has taken for a chew toy the garments of my dresser that I require to wear on a daily basis.
She has, for the cost of her food, done nothing but occasionally project said food back out and usually onto a carpet.
She has, for the cost of her shampooing, done nothing but roll in dirt and grime to develop for herself and the displeasure of those around her a stench so foul, and so powerful it could make a grown man cry.
She has, for the cost of her accommodations, done nothing but cry excessively, and whine noisily, without providing any sense of a point at which she will cease to do so, for she considers anything she has to be insignificant in fulfilling what she believes to be her desire.
In every state of these oppressions I have attempted reasoning with my mother, which has only resulted in the reinstating of the undeniable fact that my mother favors this dog over me; I have employed treats in the attempt to teach my dog more acceptable mannerisms, which has only resulted in the loss of doggie treats; I have tried closing off all ways by which she could possibly attempt to leave my home, which only causes her to try harder to escape; I have tried sealing off the way into my bedroom to keep her away from belongings that I wish to keep clean and in tact, but this has resulted in my mother scrutinizing me and forcefully keeping my bedroom open while I am not here to object. I have tried to be reasonable with this dog; I have offered adoration, care, time, energy, and all manner of things I have to waste, and from it I have gained nothing, and accomplished nothing in subduing the monarchy of this miniature Maltese.
I, therefore, the former primary caretaker, care provider and otherwise servant to this canine, Charlie, the Maltese Poodle, do solemnly publish and declare that I should, and I will, become and stay free of this unforgivable plight that this dog has so far caused to employ me in. I will, by this declaration, call myself now and forever independent of this infuriation in fur that calls itself a dog. And I will endeavor no longer to serve her needs, but to develop more time for personal improvement, and more time for purposes that are necessary for the well being of my body, my mind, and my soul.