Har-har-hardee-har-har

“I actually believe in gun-control,” said Republican presidential hopeful Gov. Rick Perry of Texas, reprising the old redneck joke.
“Use both hands.”
Har-har-hardee-har-har-har!
I bet that went over well with all those folks out in Nevada bewailing the death of their loved ones at an IHOP restaurant.
Garner the redneck vote.
I’ve never been able to make a decision regarding gun-control.
On the one hand I believe in the constitutional right to bear arms, to secure against a government gone mad.
On the other hand I worry about the ready availability of lethal weapons to citizens gone mad.
My younger brother in northern Delaware owns pistols to protect his house.
No matter those pistols will be more likely used to kill he and his wife.
What he doesn’t have is a dog.
When our house was being built, the contractor wondered if he should install an alarm-system.
I refused.
“Best alarm-system I ever had has four legs and barks,” I said.
When we lived in Rochester, ours was the only house on our block not broken into.
We had “Beware of Dog” signs in our doors, plus our dog was always on-guard.
One night I was awoken at 3 a.m. by a torrent of noisy barking.
I heard someone slink off our front porch.
Same thing with the mailman and United-Parcel-Service.
One day I was walking our dog up the street, and she started barking.
It was a UPS truck; she’d heard the four-ways clicking.
I also had to tie up the dog outside so the gas-man could read the meters inside.
And I always knew when the garbagemen were coming.
An immediate neighbor got a dog.
So how does one come down on gun-control? How does one make lethal weapons unavailable to crazies?

• Our house was built 20 years ago. We live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield, southeast of Rochester.