I was in my thirties with my Ruger Blackhawk.
I had been trying to get a good shot at a turtle in a tank on some property the family owned. The turtles and alligators had pretty much eaten all of the fingerlings we had stocked in the tank, and I wanted to get rid of some of them.
I started walking around to the other side of the tank, and decided it wasn't too smart to walk on rough ground with my gun cocked.
I lowered the muzzle of the revolver toward the ground, decocking as I prepared to place the gun in my holster.
I missed hitting my foot by about two inches.
I think I probably jumped higher than I ever had before, or since.
Never argue with drunks or crazy people.