Sunday, July 27, 2008

Me With a Gun is Such a Beautiful Image

So one day last week I come home. Shut the garage door and walk into the house. As soon as the door closes I hear what sounds like a cabinet closing in the kitchen. I freeze instantly because Lola’s locked up in her kennel so it couldn’t be her. I peek my head around the corner from the hallway and look into the kitchen. As we have an open floor plan, I can see the kitchen at the back of the house from just a few steps after I get in from the garage at the front of the house.

I see nothing but am still scared so I think to myself, get the gun but let Lola out because that’s her job to be a guard dog. At least that’s what boxers were bred for. Lola’s kennel is in the room right by the garage so I let her out then head straight for the bedroom to get the shotgun. I figure if there is someone there, I what to scare the crap out of him by cocking the gun. Plus the sight of a crazy-eyed woman holding a shotgun, who may or may not have raging hormones now or constantly, has to be terrifying to anyone who has trespassed into her home.

So I get the gun and Lola runs out ahead of me back to the living room. Picture this. Me with one of my crazy faces if you know me, or if you don’t know me one of Screech’s dorky faces on my body, which can be found in the Lake Tahoe posting, sneaking around the house like Elmer Phud hunting for that wabbit. Those that know me and my faces will attest to this being the most accurate description possible to help you picture me.

Right before I get to the living room, I figure this is a good time to cock the gun as I have the safety of a hallway that I can duck back behind if necessary. So I cocked the gun, which was loud, and seemed to confuse Lola a bit which is understandable since this is her first time hunting. Since there were no cries for mercy, I proceeded through the living room into the kitchen. Looked around the island and proceeded to the pantry/laundry room as this is where someone would potentially decided to hide if they were in the kitchen and heard me come in through the garage door. So I now have the gun pointed in front of me, safety off I assume, and my finger right behind the trigger as I don’t want to accidentally shoot a bazillion holes into the wall unnecessarily. Around the corner I fling myself with the shotgun to nothing but a bunch of towels. To be safe though I still have to look behind the door. No one is there. This is actually a good thing for the would-be burglar.

Since I heard a noise I can’t just assume that because I didn’t find anything in the kitchen that I should let my paranoia go. So next it’s to the various rooms and closets. We have a sliding closet door in Lola’s room, so I go in there, put the barrel of the gun in the end that’s cracked open and slide it open with the barrel. No one had better dare try and grab this gun from me. I’ll shoot. I’ll do it!!! Then after that, I’ll beat the crap out of you for being in my house uninvited. Then I’ll call the cops. No one was there or in the other room’s closet.

Next stop was the guest bathroom. What a better place to hide than in the shower behind the curtain. But again I let my gun do all the hard work just in case. Because I want anyone who’s there to be shakin' in their shoes if I find them there so that we can put an end to this peacefully and without injury to the house. Because really, I don’t want to pay to fix all the holes in the wall because you decided you had the right to trespass.

After all the bathrooms, bedrooms, and closets had been checked, I finally felt comfortable that no one was in the house and some kind of air pressure had caused one of the cabinets to open and close. Either that or a rat is running loose in them somewhere. YUCK!!!! But now I had a problem. There was a shell in the barrel and the only way I knew how to get rid of it was to shoot the gun. Can’t do that without someone to shoot at. So I put the safety back on, I assumed. At least back to the position it was in when I pulled it out. Call my husband with no answer. Well great what am I supposed to do now with a loaded and cocked gun? So I put it on the bed and shut the door, so Lola couldn’t jump on the bed accidentally discharging it, and we went about our business as normal waiting for the call back.

Now I never have made a call like this before so when he calls back he’s not expecting this question. “How do I un-cock the gun?” Ummmm…right….Lola and I were playing “catch the burglar” for you know what and giggles. Well and because we wanted the practice in case a real one ever comes. Anyways we immediately work the problem, and now I know how to “un-cock” the gun for the future. Although it is a little nerve-wracking to point the gun at the ceiling and pull the trigger to make sure that I indeed got all the shells out. Luckily I did and there aren’t a hundred holes in the ceiling to make future buyers ask questions.

This woman isn’t afraid to kick some butt. So burglars beware. I hope you enjoyed what I now see as a humorous look into my life. Since most of my stories about me aren't nearly that exciting.

1 comment:

Traci said...

I have to admit a wee bit of disappointment. You see, I was expecting a picture of you holding a pistol bad-ass style. It's definitely a funny story, though.