As a staunch advocate of the Second Amendment, I decided to reclaim my old shotgun a few weeks ago.
It was given to me by my father for Christmas when I was 12 years old (I think).
As a child, I used to go hunting with my dad. I bagged three deer with a 6mm Remmington pump, also given to me. My dad has gone back to using it since I stopped hunting more than a decade ago. With the single barrel 20-gauge, I roamed the surrounding woods in search of squirrels. They’re pretty good…but there’s not much meat on the bone.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been buying ammo for the shotgun, including a box of buckshot for more than $1 per round.
Wednesday morning I finally had enough free time to fire off a few rounds. I grabbed four yellow shells out of the box and a gallon-sized Gatorade bottle and stepped outside. I set the bottle up on a mound of earth which was excavated for a fire pit.
I walked about 60 yards away, popped in the first shell, raised the stock to my right shoulder and took aim, cocked the hammer back and pulled the trigger as I readied myself for the recoil.
My brow furrowed.
“It didn’t go off,” I said to myself. “Why didn’t it go off?”
I unloaded the shell, looked at it, looked down the barrel then reloaded the shell and tried it again.
I was dumbfounded…and wondering what was wrong with my shotgun. I tried shooting it several more times to no avail.
Shortly, I saw my dad driving down the road. I walked out to stop him. “It’s not firing,” I shouted.
“What do you mean it’s not firing?” he queried back as he stepped out of his truck.
I handed him the shotgun. He unloaded the shell and looked at it. I took the gun back from him and tried it again…just to show him it wasn’t working.
He also began to wonder if something was wrong with the gun. Then he asked if I had tried any other shells. At that point, the answer was no. So, I pulled another shell from my pocket and loaded it.
As I pulled the trigger this time, a loud bang rang out from the barrel as the Gatorade jug fell over and rolled to the ground. I shot eight more rounds at the makeshift target before getting ready for work…revelling with each shot in the sound of freedom.
There is a lot of speculation over gun ownership rights regarding the upcoming administration. And as I have stated before, I will not lose my right…without a fight. If we wind up facing governmental gun confiscation, I vow to go down in a blaze of glory, handing over my guns…bullets first.
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