SENSE AND NONSENSE

I thought I’d put out my own personal perspective about the use of guns. Being a Canadian I will try to be polite.

I’ve been a part of the gun culture in rural British Columbia for most of  my life. As a child living in the bush with very litle money coming in, our family very often subsisted on moose meat and venison. I still have no qualms whatever about accepting the good healthful food that nature has to offer. My main concern has only been that the hunter’s rifle be properly sighted in, and that he aim precisely – not wounding the animal and causing it to live in pain and possible impairment. The rifle is a tool.  It needs to be a good one and be in skilled hands. That way the dying part will occur quickly; possibly quicker than what happens in meat processing plants.

I understand that in the States “the right to bear arms” is significant, dating back to centuries-old confrontations. People who are being shot at are given the inalienable right to shoot back. And everyone- even sweet little old ladies- are permitted to store derringers in their handbags.

One such lady from Montana stopped by our tourist information center during the last American election. She said, “If Hillary gets in, I’m moving to Canada.  You know what? She wants to take away our guns!”

If I kept a gun in my handbag I’d be dangerous. Weapons of any kind make me paranoid. I used to ride a bicycle through our rural neighborhood. On one occasion I was attacked by a dog soon after disembarking from my bike.  Using my bicycle as a shield, I managed to repel the beast until its owner saved me from being lunch. Even so, I was traumatized for weeks.

I had read that postmen sometimes carried an umbrella as a weapon to repel dogs when they made their rounds. Dogs were apparently intimidated by the sight of an umbrella opening up before their eyes. I tucked one in the basket for when I went bike-riding. If I spotted a dog I would clutch the umbrella, preparing to scare off any large, middle-sized and even little-bitty dogs I encountered. It got so bad that my “fight-flight” primal instincts lit up no matter how friendly the dog turned out to be.

After I began leaving my weapon at home I found I was no longer paranoid. Dogs and humans are alike in that there’s very few that actually need an umbrella in the face.