The Lone Sheepdog.
(Originally July 31st, 2008)
In some Gun Forums, the now famous On Sheeps Wolves and Sheepdogs article seems to create furor among the ranks. Some identify with it, some take umbrage at calling those less than aware Sheep, some who serve or served in the Military or Law Enforcement communities seem to believe that it does not apply to those who are not in their groups and some think it is a Ramboesque thing that wannabes spout. I never served, I am not LEO. I am a Citizen. I know “I don’t get it” because I wasn’t there but I get things others don’t. I am a Lone Sheepdog.
Like many modern Sheepdogs, I started as Sheep, a believer in the goodness of Mankind and with the hopes of a better World. However life taught me differently and, in my case, my eyes were finally and totally opened by the death in my arms of a dear friend who was killed by roaming Wolves. I swore then I would do my best to avoid that same situation or die fighting so I began the process of learning to become a Sheepdog and I still do every day.
And you know what? A Citizen Sheepdog is a lonely endeavor. We must provide for our guns, our ammo and our training. We must walk alone the streets without back up a radio call away or the support a squad of friendly sheepdogs with more guns and even air support which the Wolves shy away from while they look and seek me since I am alone or with my family. Wolves are not afraid of Civilians since most are sheep ready for the picking but turn around and hide if they see a black and white or a Humvee. But since I look like the other Sheep, I can be targeted at any time with any degree of violence and I must respond to save my life or the lives of my loved ones.
And it something happens and I am succesful in defending myself, a new wave of attack begins. I will be interviewed by Police and Prosecutors and if I am unlucky I will be seen as a Wolf. The Press will try to crucify me as a wild predator, thirsty for blood. Friends and Family might see me as Cain, the slayer of the Brother now holding the Mark of the Beast in my forehead. I will have to reach into my savings for a lawyer if a politically hungry prosecutor decides to make me his campaign issue: No FOP or Union Lawyer for me, no Laws Of Warfare apply to me, I will get the brunt of the Sheep Law as I was some scum of the Earth.
And yes, I call them Sheep because they are Sheep. I was one, see? Lots of them had the same warnings I did, sit with me in the same lunch rooms watching news reports on TV about the horrible things Wolves are doing to the flock and they just moan and complain about needing more Sheepdogs to defend them. The thought of becoming Sheepdogs themselves is bothersome at best or frightening at worst. They refuse to take the responsibility because it is too cumbersome and too dangerous and prefer to ignore the world out there and its dangers till it is too late and then complain and seek justice as long as someone else does the dirty work.
And please, do not construe this as a criticism of Soldiers and Cops: God knows their jobs are hard enough and they could not pay me enough to do them. But then again I ask you to understand that we are faced every day with the evil you fight since it seeks us. We are not Rambos or Jack Bauers or Chuck Norrises, we are Joe and Tom and Rick and Mary and Sylvia, every guy and gal who lives next door, has a lawn, flowers and a pot belly and roots in their hair and loves his or her family but must stand alone when the Wolves come howling in the middle of the night.
It is scary but we swallow hard and face the Wolves. I do hope you understand.