Theo and Animals of a Different Kind

 If you're a regular follower of Hot Blogging with Chuck, you know all about Theo. This gangster cat loves snacks, animals and sniffing everything. We know this, too, and are not above using schemes to lure Theo where we want him to go.

I say the word "museum," and Theo shakes his head. I say the word "animal" and Theo agrees.

We visit the Museum of the North in Fairbanks, Alaska. This place is amazing for not having one live animal on the premises. But if you want an encapsulated view of Alaska and all its wildlife, this is the place to dip your toe in. Theo is in his glory . . .

First, we see the Alaskan dinosaur. Of course, all we have are the bones, but it is enough to show you how big they were . . . back in the day.

We're impressed  but then we see the dinosaur of all dinosaurs. Notice Dan on the side to see how big this dinosaur really is:

Then we have (and this is just a sampling) of some of the animals who live in Alaska. Stuffed animals. Which is cool because you can get really close and see them.

This museum goes one step further and showcases gigantic displays of sandpipers in their native habitat. All re-creations, of course, but they're magnificent.

There's a display of water animals: ducks, geese and swans and an entire slew of animals I've never heard of, part of the same family:

Finally we stumble upon some teeth of Ice-Age mammals. We immediately think of the Gold Sisters and the hundreds of pre-historic artifacts they uncovered and displayed in the geodesic dome on regular shelves. This museum has two sets of teeth only. Still the size is impressive compared to human teeth. 

Theo looks up at me. 

"Yes, you can sniff them." 

Keep in mind this is a ten minute operation as he sniffs and sniffs. If cats could smile, his would be a mile wide. 

Usually I'm telling him: "Think of this like watching TV." He loves to jump up and perch in front of the TV, watching it up close and personal--especially anything to do with nature. This time there's no glass to separate him from the teeth.

Okay, so we continue through the museum and I can't resist capturing the kayak that Alaskans use to go seal hunting. It is bigger than you imagine. 

Theo asks, "Where are the animals?"

"One track mind," I think but don't say.

 Finally, we reach the clothing exhibits. How do you dress to stay warm in frigid temperatures, especially before there was central heating--parkas and boots and hoods. 

 

Again, "Where are the animals?" Theo meows.

Again, I shake my head in disbelief.

"Well, what do you think, Theo? Did you like it?" We're back where we started, near the entrance, about to leave. 

Theo has one request. He wants to see the . . . I expect he'll say dinosaurs or that lovely stuffed eagle that we saw . . . but, no, he wants to see the sandpiper exhibit. Again. Go figure.

Theo and the Trans-Atlantic Pipeline

 I have no interest in seeing the Trans-Atlantic Pipeline. I know little about it and could care less how oil makes its way around the world, or for that matter how gas makes it's way into the local gas station. 

But, we're nearby. And Theo, for some unexplained reason, wants to see it. Or part of it.

"Theo, we're talking about miles and miles and miles and miles of pipeline . . ." I take a breath. "If we go, we're only going to see a little bit of it."

He meows plaintively. As if his life depends upon our decision. I point to the sign that is hanging off the pipes and read it out loud: "Please don't climb on the pipeline." 

Theo is not amused. He looks up. 

"I know. I know." He has no intention of climbing on this massive steel structure. I think he wants to sniff it.

I call out, "How about a snack?" to cause a distraction.

It doesn't work. 

The Trans-Atlantic Pipeline is an 800 mile, four foot in diameter pipeline that moves crude oil from the Proudhon Bay to Valdez, Alaska. It took three years to complete and cost eight billion dollars. It was built over some of the most rugged Alaskan terrain (75% permafrost). It transports about 3.5% of all US oil production. There is also stuff inside the pipes. How do I know this? I googled it. 

Dan is impressed. Theo isn't.

I pull Dan aside. "So why do you think he wants to see it?"

Dan laughs. "You know why. He wants to sniff it."

When you travel with a curious gangster style cat, you never know what his motivations are. And we have to play fair. He goes where we want to go--gold panning. We go where he wants to go--pipelines.

Alright. Alright. 

I have to eat my words. Other people are there looking at it. The pipeline itself is massive. How they built it is a remarkable story. I look at it with renewed respect. And actually stop to read all the facts on giant placards near the pipeline. 

I'm impressed with all the challenges they faced. The pipeline crosses three active faults, it navigates around mountain ranges, manages extreme sub-zero temperatures, and over 400 miles of pipeline are elevated above ground so the hot oil won't melt the permafrost underneath it. 

There's only one problem. The pipeline is high above us. Theo is on the ground. 

I think he imagines he could jump on top. We both look up. Theo looks up. 

"I'm sorry. But this is the access point. And as you can see . . . "

When he wants to look sad, he can pull it off--an Academy Award performance.

Dan is not to be deterred. "Come here, big guy."

Before Theo knows it, he's high into the air, near the pipeline. Dan has lifted him up over his head, close enough so his nose can touch the pipeline.

"Sniff, buddy, sniff."

And now everyone is happy. 

Theo, Ice Age Fossils and Gold-Part 2

 We're still at Gold Daughters and have wandered to other side of the place with the geodesic dome in the distance.

Gold. Who doesn't want a pocket full of gold? Who hasn't heard the stories of settlers going west in search of gold? And, maybe, just maybe, you've tried your hand at panning for gold.

Gold Daughters boast that there's gold in these there hills. Actually, they don't talk that way at all. They're two rather sophisticated ladies who know they have gold on their land. And they're making money off of that fact.

People can arrive, get a quick lesson on how to pan for gold and then pay to do just that---swirl some muck in your pan with just the right amount of water and at the right angle--because they'll tell you that gold weighs more than dirt and will sink to the bottom of your pan. Tiny flecks of gold. 

Really?

Theo has no interest in gold. He'd rather mooch around outside--even though it has begun to drizzle--and sniff his way around while Dan and I sit at a table and pan for gold. 

The motivating story is that a guy showed up a while back, paid for his time and walked away with about $200,000 worth of gold. It didn't happen all at once. I think he stayed about a week and really worked hard. 

Dan and I swirl and swirl. We see nothing in the bottom of our pan. One of the Gold daughters comes over and helps. She tilts the pan a little, adds some more water and then when we whoosh away the dirt, we see something.

It's the tiniest bit of something you can possibly see. If you don't do it right, you'll swish that gold right out of your pan. She helps us not do anything that stupid. At the end of it all, we put our gold specks together and empty them into a plastic container. 

Our plan is to take the precious gold home and leave it on our bedroom dresser. For a rainy day. Or stare at it. Remember. 

Meanwhile, Theo is soaked to the bone. He's had enough. 

"Don't ask," I warn him. 

He tilts his head in that enquiring and endearing way he has.

I hold up the container. Cats have great far eyesight and lousy close up vision. I have to hold the container in the air as he looks at it from a distance.

"The gold is in the bottom of the container," I explain.

He squints.

"Nevermind."

His paws are dirty. His fur is drenched. But he's not complaining. And he's not particularly interested in the gold. 

"Theo, look at you," Dan says.

"I think he had a bit too much fun," I add.

Dan laughs. But all Theo can do is give us the evil eye while we wrap him in a towel to dry off. 

Later, of course, once we're home with our plastic container of gold safely on our dresser . . .

we discover Theo with the container under his nose sniffing. Really?

Typical for a gangster cat to want to cash in on our gold!

Theo, Ice Age Fossils, and Gold-Part I

 Okay so we promised Theo, the gangster cat, that we would see animals. We're in Alaska, Fairbanks to be precise, and Theo wants animals. But we want to make one tiny stop. We've gotten wind of a place called Gold Daughters that is known for panning gold. That could be fun! (Stay tuned to Part II of Theo, Ice Age Bones and Gold)

Gold Daughters is run by two sisters (yes, they're also daughters) who opened a business based on their father's discovery. We're talking years ago. He not only discovered gold on his property, but he also discovered and (purely by accident) unearthed fossils, ancient bones of wooly mammoths, bison, etc. that roamed the Earth during the Ice Age. The fossils range from teeth to tusks. You can read more on his website: boneyardak.com. 

These fossils were examined by experts to verify that they were, indeed, authentic. Then they were categorized, initially stored, and are now on exhibit in a geodesic dome on their property. How cool is that?

We don't expect Theo to be as excited as we are, but inside the dome we let him loose and he's all about sniffing what's there. Imagine. Cats and dogs gain an enormous amount of information from sniffing. What is he picking up as he sniffs bones? 

Some background. During the Ice Age, and to appreciate this fact, you have to think COLD, the animals that could survive were different than today. They were mostly large mammals that could adapt to the cold. Think woolly mammoths, mastodons saber-toothed cats, rhinoceroses and giant ground sloths. The environment was glacial, and these mammals were forced to roam on treeless plains and forests. Many went extinct 10,000 to 13,500 years ago.

Wooly mammoths were twelve feet tall.

Giant ground sloths were twelve foot herbivores.

Giant beavers were seven feet long.

Wooly rhinoceros had thick hair and two horns.

I know this sounds like a script for a Hollywood movie, but the fossils in this dome prove these animals existed . . . once upon a time.

I stop to read some of the background:

But Theo makes the greatest discovery of all. I'm lost in looking at all the fossils until Theo hones in on teeth. Gigantic teeth. He sniffs and then he wraps his paws around the teeth on the shelf. Which means, yes, he's jumped up onto the shelf . . . and has decided that he wants to take the teeth home? That he needs to get closer than close to sniff them properly? That he's suddenly in cat love with teeth?

Of course, there's a struggle. "Let the teeth go,"I whisper.

He gives me his famous gangster smile or should I write smirk.

"I'm warning you."

Which, of course, does no good. Dan is the hero. Calmly, he walks over and shimmies the teeth away from Theo. I hold onto them securely, left over panic coursing through my body as a small part of me realizes the size of these teeth from a mastodon compared to my teeth. Yikes! 

Luckily, this dome is filled with boneyard fossils that are so interesting no one seems to notice. Everyone is busy looking, looking, looking at all the bones unearthed from permafrost, which is ice frozen for years. 

"You can sniff but you can't take them home."

He looks despondent.

"Theo, be reasonable. You want to carry these teeth . . ."

Theo is nothing but a cool cat. He shrugs. "I only wanted to sniff them." 

Really?

"Well, go ahead and sniff."

He does. But was that really all he wanted?

Theo and Alaska--Why mom?

 How do you explain to a gangster cat that we have a bucket list and Alaska is top on the list and that's where we're going next.

"Bucket list?" he asks, looking at us askance.

We try to explain. "You have things you want to do--hang out with the squirrels and birds and eat snacks. These are top priority to you."

"Alaska?"

I try to narrow down. Well, we're landing in Anchorage and then taking a shuttle to Fairbanks. That's as far as I go . . . for now. 

I'm hoping our first view of Anchorage will convince him. It's Alaska's largest city and is called the gateway to the Alaskan wilderness. Forty percent of Alaska's population live in Anchorage. It's one of the northernmost American cities. 

Alaska holds a special charm. It's more rugged, colder in winter. The lifestyle is different. Then I hit upon a winning argument. Animals. "We're going to see tons of animals. Bears and dogs and bison and moose and all kinds of sea life--whales and seals."

Theo likes animals. All animals. Unfortunately, however, the first thing we can offer is a beautiful view. Of the mountains and the clouds. 

Flying into Anchorage. As the sun is setting.

We're still flying above the clouds.

Theo is less impressed than he should be. "Where are the animals?" he wants to know.

"How about a snack? You must be starving."

Snacks work. Temporarily. He glances up at the view and shakes his head. 

"I'm glad you're such a good sport." What I don't tell him is that it'll be days before we see an animal. A live one, that is and not some prehistoric bones! Stay tuned!

Theo, Seagull Obsessed, Rides the Canal

 A morning canal tour. We arrive in Amsterdam and that is number one on our agenda.

"What is a canal?" Theo wants to know. Should he be excited or not?

"You're going to love it," I tell him, although truthfully I've been in Amsterdam before (to see the Anne Frank house) and have been on these canal tours. I remember being crammed in with a bunch of other tourists on a long, narrow canal boat. 

But how can you not ride on the canal? It is the unique aspect of being in Amsterdam. To see the house boats. To feel the water lapping around you. To see the world a bit different than what you would see in an American city.

As we're arriving, I'm telling Theo all about the canals. And all about the bicycles that fall into the water by accident (or carelessness because the rider has partaken in a little too much . . . well, pot.) Marijuana is legal here. As you walk along, you can smell that distinct odor wafting out of cafes onto the street. 

Dan and I commandeer one row and put Theo near the window. He's busy sniffing, sniffing, totally enthralled by all the Amsterdam smells. Then he looks up. 

Theo has excellent far vision. He can see the magnificent old buildings on land from the water, and then all hell breaks loose. 

Seagulls are flying in the near distance. (His favorite memory of Amsterdam, as it turns out). He jumps up and begins to paw the glass. 

"No, Theo, you're not getting those seagulls."

"I have to do it," he meows, like a true gangster.

I'm half afraid he'll jump out of his seat, run down the aisle, and throw himself into the canal in a vain attempt to get closer so I grab onto him. 

"Can't this canal boat go any faster," I complain.

It meanders along at a snail's pace. Only finally are the seagulls behind us and Theo settles down.

We try to tell him all about the houseboats on the water--how different they are from each other. How plentiful they are on the canal.

I try to tell him about my first visit to Amsterdam--waiting for over an hour in line to go into Anne Frank's house where she lived in hiding for two years. I never knew until then that her house was on the edge of the canal--similar to the ones I see now or that she could see the canal from her window.

We pass other interesting buildings, a bridge, and even other canal boats. But is Theo even looking?

That's the thing about cats. Their priorities are a bit different than ours. It's all about food, birds and squirrels. About sleeping in the sun. About watching the nature channel on TV. 

Canals in Amsterdam? Way down on Theo's list of how he'd like to spend a morning. 

"Wait," I remind, what about the seagulls?"

Theo gives me as much of a smile as he can muster. "The seagulls."

Now his eyes are gleaming with the memory. Perhaps, canals are not so bad after all. 

Is Theo a Van Gogh Fanboy?

 Starry starry night . . . those famous words from Don McLean's iconic song dedicated to Vincent Van Gogh that was so popular years ago. Who doesn't know the name Vincent Van Gogh? Who hasn't heard the tragic story of his life? Who hasn't seen at least one of his paintings in a book or magazine?

Dan and I know we're going to spend the day in Amsterdam. I'm determined to visit the Van Gogh museum. We get tickets months in advance. We arrive early and wait in line. 

Theo, the gangster cat, who is what he describes as being dragged along, knows enough not to mutter a meow. He's no dummy. He knows I'm obsessed with Van Gogh. 

Has Dan bribed him with unlimited snacks? Or does he realize that this is no ordinary museum? Floors and floors of Van Gogh's paintings that you can see close up and eye to eye. They're vibrant and beautiful. He painted with a unique style with a talent few possess. 

I have to literally restrain myself from taking a photo of every painting--the ugly and the sublime. 

Here is the self portrait of Van Gogh (when--I think--he still had two ears although it's hard to tell):

And now his paintings. I love this first one. It shows a working woman in the fields, one of his favorite subjects--to show people the way they really looked, not all glamorous:

And, of course, here is the painting affectionately called the "potato eaters."

This one captures the sea, the boats, the dock . . . the sky. 

I call these the trees paintings . . . all abloom in the springtime. 

This painting is one of my favorites. I have a print hanging in my guest room--the rolling sea, signed boldly in red paint in the corner.

And, last but not least, Van Gogh's sunflowers. I must have stood there for half an hour staring at it, hardly believing the painting I'd seen for years in magazines and books was on the wall in front of me. 

Theo's not amused. I can almost hear him thinking--what's the big deal? Paintings hanging on a wall. 

But, he doesn't object when I buy the print of the angry sea. He says nothing when I frame it and hang it on our wall in the guest room. And then later, after we've been home for a while, I catch him sitting on the bed, staring at it.

And who says a cat can't acquire culture? Could he be a Van Gogh fan boy??