I do what I can to live a sustainable life. I have a place in the woods with several good-sized organic gardens where I grow veggies, fruits, and berries, and I raise chickens for their eggs.
On several occasions, I've had to scare off predators (killed a few, too). That's life in the woods.
Only once have I had to get my gun out for protection against humans. Here's the tale:
The nearest neighbors (on the other side of a 5-acre wooded parcel) had gone out of town, leaving their two older sons home. But the boys were working late into the evening (sound mixers for a concert in the big city) and were not expected to be home till at least two or three in the morning, so I was left in charge of the neighbors' pets and home for the night.
Around 10 p.m., I hear noises out in the woods between our houses. Keep in mind, I'm at the end of a gravel road that's at the end of a gravel road in the middle of nowhere - people don't just wander by and decide to stop and check things out, and certainly not in the middle of the night.
So... I turn off the TV and lights and listen closer. Voices. Crashing around through the brush. Shouts. I peek out the window. Flashlights - at least three or four. :shock:
I slam a couple rounds into my Mossberg, yank open the front door, jack the gun (there's nothing like that noise in the world!) and shout:
"I don't care who you are, you'd better get the **** out of my woods."
Silence.
Then, a timid voice from the darkness: "Glinda, was that your gun?"
Turns out the last act of the show canceled out and the kids came home early. The boys brought along a few of their city friends for an evening of snipe hunting, and didn't they have a story to tell when they got home?!
:lamo