We sometimes have to stretch the truth to get Chucky to do what we want to do. Case in point: when we're visiting Cairo and decide, with the help of our Egyptologist, to spend the afternoon in the exquisite Egyptian Museum.
It is a big place with lots and lots to see. It is super crowded. We know, from experience, that Chucky will have eyes for one thing and one thing only--the mummies. He's made it quite clear when we first board the plane that he wants to see the infamous Mummy Room in the Egyptian Museum (History Channel again.)
So, yes, yes, we're on our way to see the Mummy Room which is downstairs, we assure our over anxious cat. It takes time to get there.
After all, the Egyptian Museum is a big place. Located in Cairo, built in 1901, it houses the largest collection of Egyptian antiquities in the world--over 120,000 items, with most of them on display. It is the largest museum on the African continent. It houses, among its masterpieces, the Pharaoh Tutankhamen's treasure, including his gold burial mask, considered one of the world's best known works of art. How cool is that? But Chucky doesn't care about a burial mask.
We pass tourists galore. Statues of famous Egyptian pharaohs. And every time we stop, we hear Chuck's meow, "Are we there yet?"
"Almost. This is a big place."
We pass beautiful paintings of birds. And again Chuck asks, "Are we there yet?"
"Almost."
Our Egyptologist gives us some background on the museum. Chuck is practically doing back flips in Dan's backpack, he's so anxious to see the mummies. "Meow. Meow."
"Let him out," I suggest.
There are so many people milling about, I doubt anyone will notice him anyway. And, besides, who is going to care about a cat, when there are so many other fabulous things to look at?
Dan has a large map that he consults on a regular basis so we can stay focused.
"If we go down that hallway there, there should be a set of stairs that will take us to the Mummy Room."
We turn to look at Chuck, to make sure he's heard that this is it, we are really this time on our way to the MUMMY ROOM. We expect to see his smiling face, or whatever a cat's version of a smiling face is, but the spot between us where he was perched just moments before is empty.
Chuck is gone. He has disappeared! Oh my God. Was he abducted? Right under our noses? Anything is possible in Egypt.
"Or . . ."
"That darn cat--"
"Which way--" I am flabbergasted.
"To the Mummy Room . . . " Dan points the way.
Is he right? Or are we on a wild goose chase? Wasting precious moments while Chuck is being whisked away by some foreign adversary? I am almost paralyzed with indecision.
Dan grabs my arm. "C'mon. You know him. He's always running off and doing his own thing."
We race down the hallway. There is no doubt in Dan's mind that the Rascal Cat has made a bee line for the Mummy Room. I'm less sure . . .
I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper a quick prayer as we open the thick door and gallop down the stairs. "Make him be there." Suddenly, I regret taking our time waltzing through the museum. We should have gone straight to the Mummy Room.
We spot the sign: Mummy Room. We turn the corner . . .
Will Chuck be there? Stay tuned next week to find out:
Rascal Chuck in the Mummy Room
