TL;DR - Am now part of the dgu club that apparently doesn't exist since I didn't kill the guy that forced his way into my house.I don't know why it's been bugging me lately, but I thought I'd share what happened this past November.As a preface, the layout of my house is basically your typical 2 level colonial style house. The family room has a patio glass door with built in shades (closed at night). The room flows into the kitchen, which has 3 doorways (dining room is adjacent to it, short hallway which opens into the living room, and garage door). The living room is where the front door is and the stairs face the front door.At about 05:15 on a Monday, my dog (50# lab mix) loses his ever loving mind and starts barking at the back sliding glass door. And of course, both the wife and I believed that there was some squirrel or fox out there and he wanted to go play with it. My wife gets out of bed to let him outside, as it's almost time for her to be getting up anyway. Then I hear her scream, and the dog is still going off about something. I hop out of bed and am unlocking the safe as she yells for me. I grab my pistol and head on down (only clad in underwear), still thinking that there's some animal that I just may have to put down. As I turn the corner in the kitchen, I see her talking to someone on the patio, and I go over, and there's a fit 20 something dude standing there asking for help because people are after him. Since the dude didn't have anything in his hands, and genuinely looked freaked out, I went back into the kitchen and grabbed the phone to dial 911.Now, of course, the smart thing to do would've been to shut and lock the patio door, and continue to talk to him through it, but both of us had massive brain farts. As dispatch was transferring me to the sheriff's office, I'm walking back to the patio door to give them a description of the dude. Then a car drives past the road, which freaks him out and he bolts past me, the wife, and the frothy mouthed barking dog, and collapses in front of the couch going on about people wanting to kill him. My wife is on one side of the room with the dog, dude's in the middle, sitting on his ass, and I back up a bit to give me room in case I have to shoot the fucker. 911 now knows that I have a gun and that there's a dude who's in my house uninvited.Another car goes by, and the headlights freaks him out again, and he gets up to move deeper into my house. I let my wife continue to talk to him, only because she'd come off less threatening than me, and I'm backing up because I really, really didn't want to start my day by killing someone. Yes, I viewed him as a highly potential threat to both of us, but as he was currently unarmed, she was holding onto a barking dog who wanted to eat this dude's face, I felt that he didn't require shooting yet (AOJ). Even when he started talking about people coming in through the windows to get him, and we both realized he's either off his rocker or high on whatever.At this point, 911 informed me that there were deputies on site, and my wife went to the front door to check, and sure enough, there wasn't anyone. Informed them that they were at the wrong house and they needed to come down the street (there's 2 streets with the same name, one is drive and the other is court). The dude has moved from the kitchen, into the living room, close to the front door. He inquired as to what was upstairs and was promptly told nothing was up there (2yr & 4yr were sleeping up there) and not to go up there. That was the moment I decided if he took a step on the stairs I was shooting him.He then sat down and sorta rocked himself by the front door muttering scripture and the cops finally show up to our house (25 min since dialing since the front cam shows them taking him away at 05:45). The deputy on the line asked me to secure my gun before anyone entered, and I obliged him by putting it in the refrigerator, since I was still in the kitchen doorway.The cops enter, and start questioning him a bit, then a supervisor? comes in and is like, I know you. Let's take you home. Dude tells him no, he doesn't want to go back home because the people at home will kill him. So they tell him it's either home or jail, to which he heartily agrees to jail.Apparently, the deputies were surprised I didn't shoot the fucker. They speculated that he was probably on bath salts. One of the daycare ladies believes it was PCP (related what happened to us because the 4yr old came to the top of the stairs at some point while the deputies were in the house, and I wasn't sure how much he saw). His weed was definitely laced with something (looked him up and he's been busted for that a few times previously).Found out afterwards what triggered my dog - he busted a 4x4 post on his way onto the patio, even though there was an unlocked storm door, literally 3 feet to the left.Some of the things I took away from this: turn on the patio lights and open the shades before opening the door. I'm surprised it took so long for the deputies to arrive, since we live about 3 miles from the station. Currently waiting on the approval for a suppressor, since all previous scenarios I've run through, I always assumed I'd put on the ear pro I have on top of the safe. And always, always, grab the biggest gun you have when your wife screams bloody murder. via /r/CCW http://bit.ly/2WUZiGM
No comments:
Post a Comment