Just a quick story about a personal experience.
When I was a younger lad, I didn't have much money and usually lived in mildly sketchy areas of town. I'd had the occasional intruder before - as much my fault for not locking the door as it was theirs for being too drunk to know which apartment they were walking into.
Anyway, somewhat later I was living in a different place, in a studio apartment. I was working in a pawnshop at the time, there was always the possibility that one of my customers had managed to figure out where I lived so I kept a pistol and a shotgun near the bed.
One late night, I woke to a huge loud sound like someone sawing away at my back door. Being that it was a teeny apartment, I figured that I could clear it myself (small box with kitchenette and bathroom). I grabbed the shotgun and crawed out of bed.
The shotgun was a Franchi SPAS 12 with the nifty folding stock. For those unfamiliar, a serious BFG. Honestly, it weighed 10 pounds unloaded.
I realize that the sound is coming from the kitchenette - it is really loud. Adrenaline is dumping into my body, I'm getting tunnel vision - all the fight/flight responses.
I round the half corner to the kitchenette and flick on the light. Out of a closed bag of Lays Potato Chips jumps a mouse which zips down the counter and into a gap between the stove and the wall. Thank goodness I didn't have the finger on the trigger. The first round in that pig was 00. It could have done some serious bad things to my stove.
So...I guess, no moral here. Just an amusing story.
The mouse did come back, but he had a fatal mishap with a trap.
j
