Cleo finds a new home in Alaska

Readers probably think that I have abandoned this blog; given up on it altogether. This is not correct. What is a hard fact, however, is that I just spent five weeks traveling on the Arctic Slope, where I visited five communities, and in that time I saw and met a total of but one cat, Sigñiq, who I photographed and introduced to you.

I am back home, now, exhausted, and with a new crisis to face as my lovely Sunflower has once again gone down with an excruciatingly painful knee injury, but at least I among my own cat buddies, who will soon begin to pop up in this blog again.

In the meantime, I did meet this character, Cleo, at the Anchorage airport shortly after my flight from Barrow landed and deboarded.

Cleo had just moved to Anchorage from Colorado.

I did a short interview with him:

Me: "Cleo, why did you choose to leave your home in Colorado to move to Alaska?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "I see. I agree completely. Alaska is God's favorite place. And how was your flight?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "That bad, huh?"

Cleo: "Meow! Meow! Meow!"

Me: "Well! Certainly I would agree that she should be reprimanded, but don't you think it would have been a little extreme to have opened the door and thrown the Stewardess out?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "Actually, it's cats that always land on their feet, so she wouldn't have been okay. Besides, even if she did land on her feet, it was sixty below up there, so she would have been a popsicle and would have shattered when she hit the ground."

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "Yes, I can accept that as punishment instead. It would be a real eye and nose-opener for her to have to fly from Denver to Anchorage in a little cage with a little tiny litter box that was always shifting around. But how do you feel about spending the rest of your life in Alaska?"

Cleo: "Purrrrrrrr...."