We're Gonna Need A Bigger Boat

You remember that line, right? Roy Scheider utters it in a moment of awe and horror as he takes in the spectacle of the great white thinking lunch thoughts next to Roy’s hopelessly undersized boat. Funny how that line flew into my consciousness as Mojo did his level best to re-enact Captain Sam Quint’s role in “Jaws” this morning. What Mojo clearly didn’t appreciate was that, in fact, he was actually reprising the title role from the 1939 classic “Idiot’s Delight.”

This morning’s jaunt began innocently enough: bright early morning sun, a beautiful low tide, lots of dogs. But, when someone shouted “shark,” that was reason enough to know this was not going to be your ordinary morning. As we turned to the ocean shallows, the large silvery dorsal fin was unmistakable, and while he was no mammoth great white, he was no minnow either. Both two-legged and four-legged life forms immediately got out of, or steered clear of, the water……except Mojo. To the extent that Mojo can be said to think actual thoughts, I felt he was saying, “Damn, that’s one big minnow out there!” Not needing any further encouragement, and having batted zero for a thousand in this summer’s endless attempts to finally land a minnow, Mojo dove into the shallows and attacked the shark. Let me repeat that: he attacked the shark. With his front paws sitting astride the dorsal fin, I feared the Mojomeister was on the verge of having a sushi breakfast were it not for the deft escape maneuver of the shark who proved to be the far wiser of the two animals in this one act play. You could just hear the shark thinking, “What the hell is that lunatic black thing on my back?” as he slithered off to deeper waters.

Normalcy ensued for maybe another 20 minutes or so until the shoreline was visited by yet another shark, this one, to my eyes, even bigger than the last one. (I think the first one went back for reinforcements.) Mojo, having learned nothing from his first encounter, dove into the ocean yet again in pursuit thinking, no doubt, how this really was his lucky day. Never, ever, had the Isle of Palms been visited by such fabulous minnows. In proving yet again how stupid people can be when faced by moments of trauma, I ran into the ocean after him waving my plastic ball launcher as if this were weapon enough should things get dicey. Fortunately, this shark came from the same smart family as the first visitor and found a way to get away from the shark-surfing Mojo and retreat to live another day.

My friend, Brian, tried to convince me that Mojo was not acting stupidly, but was actually indulging in an act of heroism; that Mojo was, in fact, putting himself in harm’s way to save his buddies from an unsavory fate. This is what I will let others think. I would say that Mojo and I know better, but clearly, Mojo does not. When we returned home and I watched Mojo eating his usual breakfast of dry, boring kibble, I wondered whether thoughts of sushi or shark tartare danced in his head.

Next time, big fella, next time.