Before we leave Alexandria, Chuck insists on going to the Alexandria National Museum. Now, the rascal cat is not usually a fan of being inside or of visiting any kind of museum, but this one in particular holds something of interest that Chucky heard about and was dying to see: An Anthropoid coffin with mummy.
"What is that?" Dan wants to know.
I have no idea, but the bigger question is how did Chucky know about it? Occasionally, Chucky watches the History Channel. Did he just happen to catch an episode where an Egyptologist talked about an anthropoid coffin?
So, here we are on our way to one of Egypt's finest museums. Inaugurated by President Hosni Mubarak in 2003. Located in a restored palace. Containing about 1,800 artifacts that tell the history of Alexandria, beginning with the Pharaohs (ie. the pyramids), then the Romans (Julius Caesar and Cleopatra), then the Coptics (the Christians) and finally the Muslims.
"Let's be smart about this," I say to Dan. "On our way to the coffin, we can check out a lot of other neat things and give Chucky a dose of culture!"
So, we admire early Egyptians paintings:
We examine mummies that are on display. Ancient Egyptians believed in body mummification after death to preserve it for the afterlife. They placed a mask on the mummy's head to help the soul recognize it according to their belief. The mummy was then placed inside a coffin.
We peruse an interesting collection of statuary:
We also learn the Holy Family found refuge in Egypt. Mary and Joseph considered it a safe place for Christ, which helped the establishment of the Christian religion in Egypt.
Of course, all of that is very interesting to us. Chuck, however, is on a mission. The anthropoid coffin is located downstairs in a specialized area. No photographs allowed. And, frankly, no cats allowed either.
"What should we do?"
"Let's face it. Chucky is never allowed anywhere. Let's just do it."
Dan is right. We are here now. We push the doors open and step inside. We walk down the stairs. No one else is there. Perfect.
"Stay focused," I whisper to Dan as Chucky begins to meander around.
"There. There it is--the coffin."
We have never seen anything like it before. A dog is buried inside a coffin that looks like a dog. The coffin is designed to look exactly like the animal that is inside.
I have to admit--it looks creepy.
"Should we let Chucky see it?"
Dan looks at me sideways. "Why not?"
"He's been through a lot." I glance behind me. Chuck is sniffing away, oblivious to the fact that we have found the coffin.
"He'll be okay."
"Let me take the photo first."
That's when it happens. Chucky, suspicious, that we're staring at the same spot for too long, races over, gets nosy and now, before I can say a word of warning, begins to sniff the coffin.
"For goodness sake, grab him," I yell, suddenly fearful that he might contract some dreaded ancient virus.
Cats can't smile. It's physically impossible. When they want to show they're happy, they purr. Or they slowly close their eyes and kind of wink at you.
Chucky turns around and does just that. A very slow winky kind of eye close. Then he moonwalks back to us, not wanting to take his gaze off the anthropoid coffin.
Obviously, he's not freaked out at all. The problem is me. I'm the one who's freaked out. As usual, he's the cool cat. Argh.
