We bought this sweet little Detective Spec Colt .38 Special back when Hurricane Whoever was threatening to sweep us away:
This next one, however, was an inheritance, locked away in a box without a key. We've had it at least 4 years without ever knowing what was in the box, just that it was some sort of gun. So I finally remembered it yesterday, and took it to the locksmith and paid him $5 to open the fireproof safe. Took him a while, but there, still in its purchase case was this bit of fluff:
Thus, the Jolly Roger and I have now achieved detente. His n' Hers heaters. Heh.
The Ruger .357 fits nicely in my hand, and I can't wait to go try it out at the range. Meanwhile, even though the marsh is at my doorstep, it grants a certain peace of mind to know that there will be no pirates looting on my property if we get a chance to host a hurricane here. Just sayin'.