A long time ago, I bought a combat bastard sword. Understand this isn’t a dress up play time sword. It isn’t a presentation sword. It’s neither pretty nor light. It’s a true one and a half hand bastard sword that is fashioned exactly like those from centuries ago, except the steel is better. It takes and edge faster and holds that edge longer.
The sword lives near the door.
So a dear female friend was carrying my beloved daughter into my house, and curled up in the corner, right next to the door between my house and my garage, was a ground rattler. My friend freaked, as she hates snakes and it was inches from her sandled feet. She yelled for me to come and showed me where the little bastard was. I spent a few seconds figuring my options. Shooting was not one of them. The snake was surrounded by concrete and nice walls that I’d rather not replace. Then I remembered, oh right, the bastard sword by the door.
Look, I’m just saying … do you really need a sword? Maybe not. Then again…
I do like my Cold Steel kukri for similar purposes, but the reach of your choice is a significant point in its favor.
Wait, you gott’a ‘splain something like that? I mean, I thought some sort of sword (broad, bastard, nodachi, saber, gladius, kukri, estoc, claymore, machete, or, well, some kind of pokey-slashy item) was not just sort of expected, but well-neigh unto obligatory in a proper household. Nearly as required as a firearm or two. Oh, well, I guess when you live among the uncultured, you might have to explain such a simple fact of life.
A much better choice that a lady I knew. When I asked her what she’d named her new pet, a copperhead sunning itself on her concrete from deck, she reached inside for her 20 gauge and parted it. Of course the ricochet splattered the drivers door of her nearly new Ford pickup. One costly snake.
Around here, if the rattler will eat his share of mice and rats, we’ll happily build him a little house to go on his burrow.