Gear Inspection

Stared down at that tangled pile of hemp rope still resting in the hallway corner. Can't let discarded line rot into useless trash. I marched over, clamped my jaws onto the thickest frayed strand, and hauled it across the hardwood into a patch of morning light. Bracing one foot down, I used both blunt paws to twist, smooth, and tightly coil the length into a neat, serviceable bundle. My dog padded over, watching every loop with deep respect. You never throw away good binding cord. Tucked it under the entryway cabinet for future tactical use.