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!