By Katie Kieffer
Dr. Seuss’ new book, “What Pet Should I Get?” inspired me to write a Seuss-style poem from the perspective of a mother who wants a gun to defend her family.
My poem is a plea for 2nd Amendment rights in the wake of recent mass tragedies committed by Dylann Roof, Mohammad Youssef Abdulazeez and John Houser. As you know, I’ve written many columns in defense of gun rights. However, given last week’s tragic shooting in a Louisiana movie theater, I will try reaching hearts and minds by presenting my facts in a more creative way.
Please share this column with any “compassionate liberals” in your life so that they may see that your ideas come from your heart as well as your mind. Here goes my poem:
What gun should I get? I’ll ask and I’ll ask. I’m up for the task!
Son, what gun should I get? A pistol? A rifle? A shotgun? Tell me, son. Son-of-a-gun.
Daughter, what gun should I get? Yes dear, I know, any new gun will shoot farther than your mother’s old handgun!
Dog, what gun should I get? A toy gun for you to chew and to toss? Or a real gun so that we may safely walk through the forest blanketed with moss?
President Obama, I know you love skeet! Give me advice for choosing a firearm that will help me stand my ground on my own two feet!
“Don’t carry concealed. Call the police,” you say? OK, OK. But how do I call the good folks in blue when a mugger is three steps away from my shoes?
“Then, shout ‘STOP!’” you suggest? I’m trying, I’m trying, to envision that working. But all I can picture is an antagonist lurking in the mist—before I drop to the ground with one quick whop of his fist.
Michelle, you’re a mother like me. You have armed guards around you and your daughters from dawn until dusk. Surely you will not imitate your husband in being so brusque! What gun should I get for my 18-year-old daughter when she heads off to college?
“Her best defense is pepper spray,” you say? But what if she is raped, I say? How will I live to see another day?
Michelle, tell me why I should reduce my daughter to warding off sexual assault with the dormitory’s wrinkled sheets or the cafeteria’s pickled beets—instead of the proven practice of packing heat?
Back to you, Mr. President. No American president has presided over a deadlier record of mass shootings committed by mentally ill madmen than you. Ignoring the root issue, why do you continue to treat me and other law-abiding gun owners like animals who belong in a zoo?
Major Nidal Hasan. Jiverly Antares Wong.
Jared Loughner. Elliot Rodger. John Houser.
James Holmes. Adam Lanza. Aaron Alexis. Mohammad Youssef Abdulazeez. Acknowledge our right to defend ourselves against these madmen, please.
We know that the Charleston, South Carolina shooter popped pills like Xanax and Suboxone before making his kills. When you learn about shooters like Dylann Roof—flying higher than drones before setting their sites on gun free zones—why do you cite false claims about firearms without showing your proof?
Ignore Jonathan Gruber’s manufactured poll telling you that we’re “stupid” and search your soul for more reliable council. You’ll surely realize that more love and more guns is the only way for America to rekindle the peace of the dove.
Mr. and Mrs. President, why won’t you support my desire to purchase a tool to protect my daughter when she heads off to undergraduate school? Instead, I feel like you sometimes choose to reduce my reasonable fears to the level of booze by hosting summits where you and your guests throw back beers.
Since you’re so unkind, I’ll make up my own mind. I have a natural right to defend myself and I will decide on the gun that’s right for me; the gun that will help me to be more free. After all, my family and friends are more precious than popularity. Here is my gun; here is my holster; and here is my paper showing that I am a proud and responsible permit holder!
With my gun secure in its safe and criminals on the loose, I will have peace-of-mind as I curl up with the new book by Dr. Seuss.
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