Thursday, November 13, 2014

More Justification For The Second Amendment

Early this morning I was working on the fence on the back part of my property.  All of a sudden, a couple mixed breed pit bulls came trotting into the yard.  As soon as we made eye contact, one of them began to bark and run toward me in full-on attack mode.  I'm generally not afraid of dogs so I just stood my ground and began growling back and yelling commands to “get out o’ here.”  He was undaunted and I was certain that we would make some physical contact and I was going to be hurt.  He got within three feet and stood there, teeth bared and growling.  During the next few moments, he lunged at me a couple more times every time I stopped yelling.  I got louder and more commanding, waving my arms in threatening gestures.  By this time he was less than two feet away.  I was gripped with fear.  I'm not young and strong anymore.  Everything on me hurts and I can't outrun the dog and I knew that, if he ever sensed my fear, he would take me down.  And I knew that if he ever got his teeth into my neck I was probably going to die.  Suddenly he retreated and ran off with the other dog.


I picked up a long-handled flat hoe for protection and returned to my chore.  It was only a few minutes later when they returned and the scene played out similarly.  Only this time he seemed even more fierce and intent.  But I had my 24 oz. straight-clawed, waffle-faced framing hammer in my hand.  I was determined to hurt him before he could hurt me.  So there he was again, within three feet, teeth bared and growling; and there I was maintaining eye contact, hammer raised and yelling back.  I figured that, if he got within striking distance, the sharp claws of my assault hammer were going right through the side of his skull. Even though he was out of my reach, I wildly swung the hammer in his direction and, again, he retreated.  
 
Oh, incidentally, Animal Control never showed up; you know the old saying, "when seconds count, the police are just minutes away."  Well I knew I was on my own so I found and loaded my .32 automatic pistol, strapped it on my side and went back to work.  Sure enough, about ten minutes later they returned.  This time they were on my driveway near the door to my house.  It occurred to me, that if my wife had come out into the yard, she might have been severely injured.  The dogs saw me again and the one charged down the bank toward me on a full run.  By the time I pulled my hand gun, he was within six feet and still coming fast.  I had no time to aim; I just pointed and fired.  Drat! I missed him but the noise startled him and he turned and ran.

From now on, I'll be wearing my .32 on my belt while working in my yard.  The next time, I will empty the magazine and make sure he is dead.  In the meantime, I need some more practice at the range. 
 
 

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