Theo Rescues Us In his First Moroccan Riad

 We're excited to be on the road, on our way to Fez (or Fes) in Morocco. We pass a lush countryside of poppies, prickly pear trees, olive trees, and finally arrive in the "Medina," or old city, which was named an UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1981.

We're staying at a Moroccan Riad in the Medina, which used to be an estate owned by the wealthiest citizens, merchants and courtiers. Today most Riads have been converted into boutique hotels or guesthouses. 

For us, the Riad is an oasis, a living space that separates you from the other tourists, people trying to sell you things, and/or motorbikes. In the summer the Riad is cool (with no need for AC).

Imagine a regular looking wooden door which opens into a garden courtyard, replete with a fountain, swimming pool, fruit trees and birds which fly overhead--in short, it's a luxurious outdoor space that is both private and breathtaking. 

Theo, our gangster cat, immediately loves the Riad. When he hears the birds tweeting, he is fixated, adopting his usual stalkerish behavior because as he meows to me, "I'm a cat, Mom."

He's also determined from the get go to sniff his way around. Where we are easily lost, as we move through exterior to interior places, trying to find the stairs that will lead us to our bedroom, Theo seems to know the way.

"Where are we?" I whisper to Dan.

Theo magically appears.

"Follow Theo," Dan suggests.

Sure enough, he knows the stairs to take, the rooms to cross, and even the elevator which will take us to the right hallway. Our bedroom is as big as some small apartments in New York City. There is a sleeping area, a sitting area, and enormous bathroom and even a small space that opens up so you can look down to the pool and admire the intricate tile work on the walls. 

As we eat lunch and then relax upstairs, Theo wanders. I suspect he's making a map in his head of the best way to negotiate the space. He can't get lost, but he can remain hidden for hours. 

Tell me a cat who can live inside and yet still stalk birds? 

"We're only here for a few days," I tell him later in the evening.

He gives me own of those head tilts as if he can't quite believe the bad news I'm telling him. If we were to vote on it--stay here or continue our tour of Morocco, I know what Theo would vote for--I can imagine his paw in the air voting, waving his answer. 

The best part is the magnificent view of Fez from the patio on the second floor. Priceless. But for Theo, his view of a bird careening through the air is much more alluring. And priceless.

Theo Visits the Andalusian Gardens

 Theo isn't shy about where he wants to and doesn't want to go. Anyplace with street cats is, of course, his preferred destination. When we mention the famous Andalusian Gardens, he hesitates.

"Okay, there might be some street cats there." I don't say the other half of the statement-there might not be some street cats there.

The Andalusian Gardens in Rabat, Morocco, is where you want to go if you're looking for a peaceful green space tucked inside historic fortress walls of the Casbah of the Udayas. The French laid out the garden in 1915 to mimic the traditional Andalusian and Islamic garden layouts from southern Spain. Lemon trees, sweet smelling orange trees, jasmine, and bougainvillea perfume the air. The walkways are shaded, interspersed with marble fountains.

Yes, there are street cats. Well, these particular fur babies are considered residents of the gardens so here is yet another option for Theo. 

"Do you want to live here?" I ask him, when he spots a black cat lurking amidst the plants.

Theo actually considers the possibility. We have been many places together but I guess the allure of so many other cats living in one place so peacefully is getting to him.

My heart is in my throat. He has to meow no, I think to myself.

He rubs against my leg. That's his answer. He's mine and I'm his. Even the beautiful and mystical Andalusian Garden is not enough to lure him away. 

Theo and the Moroccan Street Cats

 Ask Theo, the gangster cat, why he wants to go to Morocco, and he meow answers that he knows for a fact (how he knows we don't know) that cats are revered in Morocco. Muslims (Morocco is about 99% Muslim) see them as clean animals. The Prophet Muhammad showed them great compassion, and from a religious perspective, they are considered pure and clean. From a practical perspective, the cats protected the libraries and homes from mice and other pests. 

I want to go to Morocco for an entirely different reason--inspired by a song. Years ago the rock group Crosby Stills and Nash put out a song called "Marrakech Express." The story goes that Graham Nash visited Marrakech in 1966. He traveled by train and decided to leave his first class compartment to see how the real Moroccans lived. What he saw became the basis of the song--the ducks, and pigs and chickens on the train, charming cobras in the square, striped djellabas. And, of course there's the movie Casablanca with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. But that's another story.

Theo insists we talk about the cats first. Street cats are everywhere in Morocco and like most countries that have a warm climate most of the year, these street cats are what the locals call "community cats." They are respected and tolerated and even treated like guests. They are taken care of and fed by the people around them. 

You see the street cats in the ancient open air markets, outdoor restaurants, walking along the street . . . ready for a handout, grateful for any left over food. They're even allowed in the mosques. 

It wasn't long before Theo and I make it our mission to gather left overs in any empty container we might have--a napkin, a cardboard box--and feed the cats we come across. The locals don't mind, and we feel good.

Some of Theo's friends along the way:

Besides being a place where cats are loved, here's what you need to know about Morocco: It's located in the western region of North Africa and bordered by the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. It's eight miles south of Spain across the Strait of Gibraltar. Therefore, it is a unique blend of Arab, Berber, African and European traditions--Spanish and French. It has hot dry summers and mild, wet winters. Usually. (Of course, when we're here, there's a major snow storm that shuts the country down.) Roughly 20% of Morocco is the Sahara Desert. 

Morocco is a constitutional monarchy. Under the 2011 constitution the King appoints a Head of Government from the political party that comes first in elections. King Mohammed VI of Morocco has 12 official royal palaces scattered across the country. They are kept fully staffed and ready for the King.  

One of the palaces is in Rabat. It was built in 1864 over the ruins of an older palace. The complex includes large gardens, interior courtyards (housing the seat of the government), a mosque, guard barracks, and a royal college. Although Moroccans generally approve of the present King, there's grumbling about the need for 12 palaces when the money could be used to benefit the average Moroccan more. 

Three members of the royal family are interred in the Mohammad V Mausoleum:

Theo follows us up to the palace and into the mausoleum on the constant lookout for the street cats. He's disappointed that we don't see any cats at the palace or in the mausoleum. 

"These places are too grand and ornate," I whisper to him as we walk around inside. 

Theo gives me the stink eye.

"Don't blame me. Cats are revered here, but there is a limit."

Theo makes that face that says--you're wrong, Mom.

And then I get it. Theo has come here, all the way to Morocco, not because of the song or the movie, but to see the street cats. Does he want to be a "street cat"? Does he somehow admire their romantic, nomadic existence? Does he want to be a street cat that lives in the royal palace?

Theo, of course, denies it, but I wonder . . .

 

Theo Glimpses Long Ago Alaskan Native Life

 How long can we string Theo, the gangster cat, along? We're still in the Anchorage Museum, but we've left the dog section, and I can see the expression on his face--what now?

Living in Alaska is very different than living in the contiguous United States. Living in Alaska hundreds of years ago was like living in a very different world--relying on the sometimes unforgiving and cruel natural world around you for food and clothing. 

We stroll through the exhibits. 

Boots for a wet, snowy and cold climate:

Gloves:

Decorated boxes to store things in that give us a glimpse into their world:

Baskets to carry things around:

Beatifully decorated pouches to carry personal items:

Handmade canoes to navigate the rivers and streams:

All these are practical day to day products that the native people needed to survive harsh wet snowy winters.

Then we stumble upon the objects that make their culture so special--masks and wooden carved animals:

Theo was trying to be an interested museum goer but for a cat it's all about sniffing and touching what you see with your paw. When interesting artifacts are behind glass, it's hard for him to make a connection. Once or twice he smacked the glass, hoping that he could  break through or cause what was stashed behind the glass to suddenly come to life . . . we're not sure. 

As we were about to leave, we pushed Theo to tell us if there was anything he liked.

He thought for a moment. Finally he pointed to the wooden carved figure of a seal. We were impressed. A cat "art aficionado"!

Theo is Inspired by Dogs in Alaska

 We have to be strategic. Theo, the gangster cat, loves the zoo, but he is not a fan of museums. Things behind glass. Written words explaining the history. But here we are--stuck in Anchorage for an extra day because of a flight delay--and decide to go to the Anchorage Museum.

It is massive and impressive. Our first thought--what will Theo like?

Dogs. We rush up to the exhibit which explains the pivotal role that dogs played in Alaska. 

They were part of the fur trade, mining, missionary activity and were the primary means of transportation between communities, pulling people, goods, and mail across vast distances. Like the mailman, weather was not a deterent. Dogs followed networks of frozen rivers and narrow trails through the mountains. 

During the Klondike Gold Rush of 1896-1899, dogs were considered more reliable than horses to haul goods and tools. At the turn of the 20th century, laws were passed in Alaska to protect the dogs. In the 1930's air travel and in the 1960's snow machines working dogs became less common, leading to dog racing in the 1970's. 

Balto is one such dog. When the city of Nome had a deadly diptheria outbreak in the winter of 1925, communities worked together to transport life-saving serum from Seward, 1,000 miles away. After the medicine was shipped to Nenana by train, twenty mushers and their dog teams relay raced the final 500 miles. Balto was the lead dog in the final leg of the serum run (in the midst of a terrible blizzard.)

Nanuq, a one month old Australian Shepherd, survived one month on the frozen Bering Sea in 2023, traveling over 150 miles, surviving on seals and birds. He had a polar bear or seal bite on his front paw, but made it home to his owner.

Theo loves every minute. We pick him up so he can get closer to the paintings and photos on the museum wall. 

"Well, what do you think?" we ask him. 

We hope Theo's been super patient, super interested and, we think, super inspired by all the stories. After all, he hasn't once meowed for a snack. Rather he glances at Dan and gives him a few eye blinks. Then he meows. Theo's way of saying, "All is good."

We high five each other. Life is good. Today is good. Then Theo meow whispers, "Felix."

Felix the Cat. We know exactly what he's trying to tell us--cats can be heroes too!

Can Theo Make Friends with his First Lynx?

 The Alaska Zoo is a big success. We're able to see animals that just aren't in other zoos. Before we arrive, we figure three hours to walk around. We end up spending the entire day here. 

I don't think Theo will ever want to go home. 

I'm a big fan of wolves. I can't explain why. In Yellowstone years ago I heard them howl. I often visit a wolf sanctuary in western New Jersey started by a wildlife photographer. You can see them rather clearly there. In Yellowstone you rarely see them except through high powered binoculars. In this zoo, they are a few feet away, which is a real treat.  

Magnificent. Four subspecies of wolves exist in Alaska. Most adult wolves weigh 85 to 115 pounds. They reach adult size by one year old. 

Theo watches from a distance. I point out that seeing a wolf this close is a kind of miracle. If Theo could snort, he would.

We move on to an animal I've never seen in another zoo. The lynx. They are part of the cat family (lions, snow leopards, etc.) but the distinctive horns on the top of their head give them an unusual look. The lynx can live up to twenty years in captivity. They weigh 30 to 40 pounds and they eat snowshoe hare. Lynx have been known to travel over 400 miles to reach their preferred food. The lynx are endangered in most the United States but their populations are stable in Alaska.

Theo, recognizing a kindred spirit, raises one of his paws in a kind of salute, but the lynx will have nothing to do with him. 

On to the short eared owl. We stand outside the fence trying to see him. He is well hidden in the bushes and plants. Finally Theo spots him, but no matter what we say, he won't come out.

"Maybe he's shy," I tell Theo, but I couldn't be more wrong. 

Like most cats, once Theo sees what he wants to see, he won't be deterred. As he stares, we talk and share some extraordinary facts about this owl.

Their life span in captivity is fifteen years. They weigh less than a pound but their wingspan is between 38 and 44 inches, which means they can fly 15 to 20 miles an hour. 

The greatest danger to owls are humans who shoot them or hit them with cars. Short eared owls are protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act which makes it illegal to harm or kill the owls.

What is most interesting is how one owl will court another owl. They will fly up to 1500 feet in the air and then dive at high speeds. They also sing, clap their wings, and motion erratically with their wings. 

Pure showoffs.

Finally, we're standing in front of two ravens. A raven can live 30 years in captivity. They weigh less than 3 pounds and are part of the crow family. Ravens are also in danger from humans who shoot, trap, poison or hit them by cars. They're also protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. 

Ravens have been revered for centuries. Alaska's Native people saw the raven as the creator of the world and the bringer of daylight. Tibetans believed ravens were the messengers from the Supreme Being. The Irish thought ravens were all seeing and all knowing. 

They are highly intelligent birds who will hide their food and store surplus supplies and can even remember where other ravens hide their food and return to raid those sites. Ravens have over 30 distinct calls and can mimic other birds.

Ravens like to play. They harass wolves and steal their prey. They've been known to lead hawks to their prey and then chase the hawks away and eat the kill themselves. 

Ravens mate for life but if a mate dies, they will move onto another raven. Ravens have been found at high altitudes, even on top of Mount McKinley. 

I know of ravens from Edgar Allen Poe . . . quote the raven "Nevermore." 

I share all of these tidbits with Theo, but frankly a bird is a bird is a bird. He's interested. I warn him. "Don't mess with a raven. You're not going to win."

As we're walking towards the exit, Theo is moving slower and slower. Dan finally picks him up. "Can't stay here forever," he says. 

Theo meows. Our gangster cat had a very good day!