Given the break in just down the street from us, I’ve been taking a little more precautions around the house. Nothing major, I just make sure all the windows on the first level are locked and the doors are locked up before bed. It would suck if someone got in when we were gone, but it would be really freaky to have someone come in to your house when your home. I had been curious how the dogs would act if someone came in to the house. There is no doubt in my mind the Sarge would sleep through most anything…the little bastard doesn’t move once he’s out. Sara was over a friends house the other nite, she stayed out pretty late. I was in bed when she came home. I’d heard the door open and apparently so did grace. She woke up and took off out the bedroom door like a little black rocket. Got to the top of the stairs and was growling at Sara coming through the door. Once she started growling, the Sarge woke up and sprung in to action as well. I don’t think they would be able to fight off someone breaking in to the house…but they should make enough noise that I wake up and can handle things. I’m a pretty light sleeper anyhow.
As part of the preparing effort, I have written down all the serials of my guns along with an approximate purchase date. I’m sure the pistols would be gone and never seen again, but the odds of the rifles surfacing are slightly better I’d think. It surprised me how many of my guns have been gifts from the old man. The first one was an woodchucker .22. This is bar none the best kids .22 I have ever seen. It is spot on accurate, the action is smooth and you can drag that thing through a swamp and it will still fire. It’s a very nice little gun. It’s quite small and must have been designed for a kid. The next was a .30-06 he gave to me after my first deer season. It was a caliber we didn’t have and it’s a versatile round for many forms of big game. The next year, he gave me a muzzleloader. A summer later, we went down to the Williston area to visit the old man’s uncle. He had a double barreled fox/savage 12 gauge. I was enamored with the gun, so the old man bought it for me. After carrying that gun around hunting pheasant it became very clear it just wasn’t a practical weapon for me at the time. Then came the first gun I bought for myself. I decided I needed a short barreled .45 with an over sized ring. I went in to Scheels and they advised me the gun I wanted wasn’t made….so I bought a .30-30 in the same style (years later…my brother bought the exact type of rifle I wanted…don’t make it my ass). I traded off my very -very- heavy double barreled 12 gauge for it, upon reflection that’s a trade I’d like to have back. In any case, I was now without a shotgun…that isn’t a situation the old man was going to let last long. He bought me an 870 shortly there after. It’s short…light…and I haven’t put a round through it yet. After that I bought this “cowboy style” vaquero .45. A guy from back home gave it to the old man to make a holster for it. He told us to go ahead and mess around with it some if we want…after I put the first round through it I decided I needed to have that gun. I took a job flippin burgers to make the money to buy it off him. After that came the .270. I had wanted one for awhile, but the .30-30 was doing everything I needed it to as far as hunting was concerned. I had started using a smaller round for the .30-06 for deer and that didn’t tear them up as bad. The .270 was my brother’s rifle…so it’s a love/hate relationship. After that I picked up the Glock…because the woman told me I wouldn’t do it. The same year, the old man picked me up a 9mm…because we didn’t have one.
I spent a lot of time growing up pissed off at the old man…upon reflection it seems he was paying attention to the important stuff.