Preamble:
I recently acquired a Remington 870P. Three days ago I finalized my setup by installing a Barska Laser Sight(pointer?).
I have a king size bed. My 870P resides under the bed covers on the unused side of the bed. There is one round in the magazine, the chamber is empty, the safety is off. A 56 round bandoleer is draped across the shotgun so that when I take hold of the grip and pick up the gun the bandoleer is hanging on my wrist and it takes only a second to slip it over my head(don't need no stinkin' side-saddle
). Rack a round into the chamber and I'm ready to go(even from under the covers if necessary).Many of you might find fault with this arrangement, bit it's working for me.
I've lived in the same house on and off for 45 years. There have never been any problems in this neighborhood, until now. There have been three incidents at my residence in the last three years. The previous two incidents are not pertinent to this post because they did not involve a shotgun.
Noises in the night:
Last night I was awakened by the sound of my kitchen/patio door sliding open(right under my bedroom window).
I immediately implemented the scenerio that I have rehearsed dozens of times in my mind. I reached to the other side of my bed, grabbed my 870P, picked it up with the bandoleer on my wrist, threw off the covers and shifted the bandoleer over my head as I sat up, racked a round into the chamber as I stood up, and turned on the laser.
Less than five seconds and I was armed, loaded, lighted and ready to go.
As I walked the short hallway to the stairs I fed two rounds into the magazine
I had intended to add two more rounds to the magazine as I descended the stairs but discovered that I am not coordinated enough to be loading a shotgun and negotiating stairs at the same time. I stopped on the landing where the stairs reverse direction and inserted the other two rounds in the magazine.
I have 'camel bells' hanging at the stairway landing, intended as a warning system to alert me of anyone coming up the stairs. I now realized that the bells would also warn anyone below that I was coming down. There was no avoiding it so I pushed through the bells and descended the other half of the stairs.
In my kitchen I found the refrigerator door open, bare black feet visible below and a denim-clad butt sticking out past the door.
I was about to ask: “Anything in there worth dying for?”
However, my intruder either heard or sensed something and bolted for the open patio door. He got one foot tangled in the door curtain and fell out the door, landing on hands and knees on the concrete stoop outside(today I found skin and blood on the stoop). He bounced to his feet and ran, limping badly.
I never saw his face.
I didn't get to deliver my line.
He never saw the shotgun.
I closed the patio door. I closed the refrigerator door. My shotgun and I went back to bed.
