guns=Max

Can I say that I'm fairly comfortable with guns...? I was a farm raised girl...kinda sounds like the chicken, huh? Let me start over. I was raised on a farm in the middle of Montana (that's better) where my dad displayed his guns (in a safely locked gun case) at the end of our hallway.

I don't really remember him using them, as he was not an avid hunter...just a collector. The only memory was the year we had to put our dog down. It was the kind where you had to do it then and now to keep the dog from suffering. Max. A golden labrador. He was such a good dog...loveable, playful, & he slobbered everywhere from his humungo jowls. He had seizures every now and then and was on medications. This one night, it was really bad. He was in our garage and another episode hit him and his body was flung everywhere, hitting our car, the wall, and was bleeding badly as I remember. My dad had to take him out to the field adjacent to our farm and use one of his rifles to kill his pain. We were about an hour away from the nearest vet and we decided to not let him suffer. It was a very sad night.

----------------
Now playing: third day - better is one day
via FoxyTunes Every time I see a gun, that is the first thing that comes to mind. I know, sad. But then I think about all the wonderful times we had with Max. I guess that is my way of keeping him in my memories.

My husband's side of the family loves to shoot guns, so I ventured out with them this fall. I had my fill of a few rounds..the very first for me shooting a handgun. It was pretty cool feeling powerful, even if it was for an afternoon.

Share