Today I had to shoot a wild cat that was in miserable condition. Missing a front leg, bones sticking out at least 6 inches, starving and crazed looking. My dogs were at it and wouldn't back off. Looked like my big dog was going to get to close and get killed so I ran inside and grabbed the only loaded gun.
The 1851 fantasy .44 was called to action and the poor beast was euthanized with speed.
I am somewhat traumatized and sad, but confident that my pistol and I are both capable and ready for action if called on.
Now I need a good cry and a shot of whiskey.
The 1851 fantasy .44 was called to action and the poor beast was euthanized with speed.
I am somewhat traumatized and sad, but confident that my pistol and I are both capable and ready for action if called on.
Now I need a good cry and a shot of whiskey.