It was a normal morning here in my wheat field when Bo showed up to run. *cough cough* She was carrying a couple things…weights for a upper body workout and a bag.

“What’s in the bag?” I asked while drinking my coffee on the step.

“Well, it’s my pistol…Will you teach me how to shoot?” *sphnicker sphnicker*

“Sure,” I said giggling.

After we got done with our run, (which, I’ve got to be honest, was  a lot more like speed walking with weights) we got out a target.

She was sporting a little automatic Ruger. He was just so sweet. We had just sold one similar to it named Rhoda. For the next few minutes we went over some shooting basics.

First the nomenclature of the pistol. (Did you know it’s anatomy on a person, geography on land and nomenclature on a gun.) More useless info from Sis, I know. You’re welcome.

“So this is the safety, the most important thing. This is the slide, magazine release, and magazine. Now if we are going to be friends, you have to know it’s a magazine. Some folks call them clips, but clips are for your hair and magazines are for your pistol.” Bo giggled like I was being funny. I wasn’t being funny.

She practiced taking the magazine out, loading the magazine and putting it back in. My philosophy about learning anything new is, the more you handle it, the better you’ll do. Whether learning to cook, play the guitar or shoot, time equals comfort, so keep what your learning close.

We went over the different grips, stance, eye dominance, trigger control, and the importance of concentrating on your front sight while shooting. She would shoot, then we would discuss. Shoot. Discuss. Discuss. Shoot. Until we ran out of ammo. Ya-dang, I forgot to tell her–Reload when you want to, not when you have to.

Then we ran over some basic gun cleaning using a military AP tooth brush looking thingy, some gun oil and a rag. By this time it was time to get back to the daily grind so I put her baby back in his box.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Oh (sphnicker sphnicker) he doesn’t have one.”

“Well, your assignment is to come up with a name. Make it a manly name. You wouldn’t hold a girl like that.”

She laughed. I was being funny then. “I have a big pistol named Samson. You know, a nice gladiator name…”

I know what you’re wondering. How did Bo shoot?

Can she hit the broad side of a barn?

With her eyes closed.

Can she take the wings off a gnat at 50 yards?

Absolutely.

Does she always pack heat?

Now, she’s no Annie Oakley (yet), and she’s awful cute and girlie to be packing a pistol. But when the chips are down, I won’t bet my life that she wasn’t.

Simply,

Sis

PS ~ If you would like to help Bo come up with a manly name for her pistol, please leave a comment. Thanks.