I’ve been packin’ this little number all my life. It’s gotten a little bigger as I’ve grown, but it’s always served its purpose.
As a child I used this gun to protect all the girls from the grimy boys on our block.
As a teen, just showing off my gun would make others laugh. I’m pretty sure it was a nervous laugh because as a teen I got all gansta with my gun.
Gangsta, meaning I held my weapon sideways like the tough guys do in the movies.
When I hold my gun gansta style around my husband he always tells me that this is not an appropriate way to shoot a weapon. I remind him that it’s just a finger gun, it’s seriously okay if I have poor form.
I should warn you, the following photos are graphic.
Nash the dog sees the gun and immediately begins pleading with me.
I tell him there’s no need to beg, my mind is made up.
There’s a still in the air…
Nash assumes his fate.
He know’s what’s coming.
Nash is a fabulous actor, he rolls around a bit for effect.
As usual, I’m a perfect shot with my double-barreled finger gun.
I move in to check his vitals.
Not that I think there are any vitals in Nash’s gums, but I thought it would be a funny picture.
I guess even after a shot that knocked him down, Nash still loves me as proven by the little kiss he sneaks in.
I need to work with him on staying still after I shoot him. This is a trick he has almost perfected, as soon as I make the shooting noise Nash flops over. He’s so smart…
See, and y’all thought I wasn’t a thug…hmph, guess I showed you.