Thursday, July 26, 2012

Same Discussion, Different Day

After my day of wildlife encounters a couple of days ago Jason and I wound up re-hashing the same discussion we've had several times.  It is the "Melissa should be comfortable toting around a gun" discussion. There are so many ironic aspects of this discussion it is hard to point them all out.  However our favorite one, and the one Jason and I laugh about, is the fact that we have stereotype reversal going on.  I am supposed to be the gun crazy American (2nd Amendment or die!!) while Jason is supposed to be the pacifist, gun control favoring Canadian.  However in our discussions Jason is the gun toting advocate while I resist.  

Our discussion always goes something like this:

Me:  I was just chased in the pasture by a skunk

Jason:  WHAT??  You realize it was probably rabid right? (side note, all critters on our farm are vaccinated for rabies from horses to goats)

Me:  Of course I realize that.  What is your point?

Jason:  My point?? (asked in an incredulous tone)  My point is you needed to shoot it!

Me:  With what?

Jason:  With the rifle you should have

Me:  So you think I should just carry a rifle around with me all the time? (note this question is always asked in a heavily sarcastic tone)

Jason:  Yes. (note he always says this like in a serious manner while I give him a WTF look)

Me:  That would be very handy, carrying a rifle around in my hands. It wouldn't be in my way even a little bit.

Jason:  Put it in a holder.

Me:  Will you please be serious for a minute.  I'm not walking around with a rifle strapped to my back. (I'm usually sounding pretty irritated by this point)

Jason:  (in an innocent tone like he cannot fathom why I would ask this question) Why not?

And we go 'round and 'round with this discussion.  I usually point out that he doesn't walk around armed so therefore I don't understand why he thinks *I* should be doing so.  He usually just glosses over that comment and conveniently doesn't respond.  Apparently rabid skunks and such only bother females in his world.  

The bottom line is I don't want to shoot anything if I can pass that job off to someone else.  I fully admit this is a huge double standard on my part but nonetheless passing the buck is my preferred approach for these situations.  This time around Jason conspired with my dad (who agrees with Jason in this discussion?!) and apparently I am now the proud owner of a .410 shotgun that I am expected to use the next time I am chased by a skunk.  I have news for them, you can lead a horse to water . . . 


Wiz and Sebastian

Rampal on the move

Stormy was leading the way

Toledo was bringing up the rear

Silky on the move with Traveller following behind

Sam and Lighty grooming while waiting to see the farrier

Walden and Fabrizzio grazing in the morning fog

Thor, Noble and Lightening

MyLight and Calimba

Darby, Johnny, Alex and B-Rad


Elizabeth said...

I guess I lucked out because according to my father I am never allowed to own a gun. When I was about eight he tried to get me into paintball and I accidentally shot him in the butt at close range with the paintball gun. After that he wasn't able to sit very well and I wasn't allowed to play with anything that went "bang" for a long while.
My boyfriend on the other hand has never had the privilege of seeing my shooting skills and thinks I should not only learn how to properly shoot a gun but own one aswell.
Isn't a shotgun a pretty large gun to be carrying with you in a pasture? Would something smaller be more sensible?

Rachel said...

I agree with Elizabeth. A shotgun seems a bit much for a skunk. What about a .22?

Although I do agree with you. I'd rather carry pepper spray (the large canister with about a 50 ft. range) and spray any wildlife instead of killing it.

Sandy said...

Very funny! And familiar.....although ours go something like this:

Me: I just saw the fox! (the one killing our chickens)

Don: Where?

Me: Right there. Don't you see him?

Don: I see him. Where's the rifle?

Me: I don't know where did you put it?

Don: In the bedroom closet, I think. Run go get it before he moves.

Me: Yeah, OK. (dripping sarcasm, while I go see if I can find the rifle that may or may not be in our bedroom closet)

Shortly thereafter....

Me: Here's your rifle. It was in the hall closet.

Don: Give it here. I bet I'll see him again in a minute. Is it loaded?

At this point, I give him the WTF look and usually walk away.

And, as you can probably surmise, there have never been any foxes (or other potentially rabid creatures or predators) harmed following any of these conversations!