Grendel and Me (May ’08)

Bernie Moore

Another Snooze Ruined

I was talking to Grendel the other day. He was grousing about the red combat harness and leash we are connected by when out on a sortie. “It’s totally unnecessary, boss,” he explained. “We cats dress ourselves perfectly for whatever occasion.” He barely finished his sentence when his eyes got heavy and he dozed off. I would have myself, but when I am sitting and doze off my head either drops and I involuntarily snap it back pulling a muscle or two in the process.

Grendel, however, is built for snoozing. He was in a sphinxian (don’t bother looking it up) recumbent position looking like a vintage cookie jar I frequently raided at my grandmother’s house. We were sitting on a retaining wall in the quarter acre jungle (he proofreads this) behind our condo on a spring day that weathermen like to call one of the ten best of the year.

It was sunny and mild, dive tee weather, (but not shorts) Traffic was light on the nearby street and the silence was broken only by little critters going about their business, stuffing long neglected tummies, and the occasional raucous scream of a distant riding lawn mower called upon to trim some protruding stone from a still dormant lawn. But I digress.

Grendel would have me believe that he does not need to be tethered to me by a stylish red harness and leash, but even with these he has managed to break away occasionally and head for the neighbors’ bird feeders which causes no end to consternation to the neighborhood guild. These buxom beefeaters think it cruel for kitty to crunch a chickadee or two. Besides that I have a heart stopping fear he may someday decide to traverse the busy nearby street, and cats are just not hardwired to deal with the unnatural speeds of cars and trucks.

In spite of his protestations I know when he goes out to play his gear is needed.

On the other hand…

I seem to have amassed a lot of gear. (once essential, now junk?)

I have: (category mostly never used anymore)

Eight air tanks. How many do I need? Reasonably!

A John line. (strap) for hanging while hanging at 15’.

Two wreck reels. I have never used the big one. I use the little one to tether Grendel when cleaning the garage. He stays close and I keep a keen eye on him; he’s very vulnerable to roaming dogs when he cannot run up a tree, but he wanders otherwise.

A scallop opening curved blade knife.

Hoses, hoses, & more hoses.

Fin straps and other spares for gear I no longer have.

Useless strobe.

Suicide harness.

Blinking lights.

Non blinking lights.

Broken lights.

Broken computer.

Never worn wet suit, booties.

Assorted SS clamps.

Wings.

Cool monster dive knife for attacking great whites.

Stretchy things to hang gear I never use to my BCD.

Dive magazines.

Seasick shocking wristband. (With vomitus stains)

Leaking waterproof containers.

Inflator hoses with mechanisms.

Spare prescription lenses for lost masks.

Bowls of spare parts. (nuts and bolts)

Compass. (nothing to put in in.)

Depth gauge. (same)

Penguin emergency buoy

And that’s from my feeble memory. I shudder to think what else there is if I did an inventory.

And yet it’s just too precious to part with. Who knows? Someday…? This is the part I have trouble explaining to Grendel.