DOG. *growls* "Boss, we got company."
EXTREMELY SKETCHY DUDE. *freezes beside car*
HINES. "Y halo thar."
SKETCH. "...this car is not as empty as I had thought."
HINES. "No. This car contains me. Also, my pit bull. Also, my Glock."
SKETCH. "I'm going to stammer a bullshit story and walk away now."
HINES. "You do that."
SKETCH. "Just gonna get in my truck. With no license plates. And drive off."
DOG. *grumbles suspiciously*
SKETCH. *beats hasty retreat*
HINES. "Good dog."
DOG, grumpily. "He interrupted my nap." *curls up, snores*
If I weren't licensed to carry in thirty-one states, I would not feel nearly as comfortable napping in roadside rest areas. Not to say this counts as a defensive gun usage -- I didn't actually mention my gun, and it was dark enough in the car that I don't think he saw it in my holster -- but knowing it was there made the difference between the encounter being annoying and its being a little frightening. Best sleep I got was in a field beside a construction site off some little road near Richmond that I couldn't find again on a bet. Thank Ghod for GPS systems. And for furry alarm systems.