That’s right, I am now armed so don’t fu*k with me. Do you hear that,
mice?! I bought a Remington 870 12-gague shotgun and I swear to God, if I see anymore mice I am going to start shooting. Ok, not really, but I am going to freak out. Last week I caught my first mouse and poisoned bombed the shit out of the rest of them. I don’t even care if they die in the wall and stink up the place, I just want those creepy little bastards to die. I can proudly say that I was able to deal with the dead mouse without too much screaming and gagging but it was just one of what I am assuming are many. Anyway, I haven’t seen any in a few days – or heard them in the walls for that matter – so maybe they are gone? Fingers crossed.
Back to my gun. It’s awesome. And scary. I didn’t grow up around guns. And I don’t hunt yet, so I am really not used to having a gun sitting around in my house. I don’t have any ammo, and I keep a safety lock on it, but it is still weird. I am trying to work my way up to duck hunting.
Step one: deal with a dead mouse. Check.
Step two: learn how to shoot. I joined trap again this year so I am working on that one.
Step three: watch someone else actually shoot a duck to see if I think I can handle it. Check. I haven’t actually gone yet, but the plans have been made. We’ll see.
I just can’t keep eating meat if I am not willing to be part of the food cycle. I don’t want to be one of those people that watch
Food, Inc. and preaches to other people about how messed up the food industry is, but doesn't change anything about the way I get food. So, maybe next year, I will get a hunting license. Maybe.
