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Goodbye, Halifax
Alvah Simon bids a somber farewell to Halifax of the North, the cat that accompanied him on countless adventures. "The Roger Henry File" for June 24, 2009
Jun 24, 2009 By Alvah Simon (More articles by this author)
Nor can I plead the universal and therefore forgivable fault of procrastination. I have intentionally avoided writing this because putting the events of the past two weeks into words makes them indelible and irreversible. I am not yet ready for that harsh reality. Our beloved friend, crewmember, and fellow adventurer, Halifax of The North, is dead. I have been writing for many years, but that last sentence was the hardest I have ever written, and our boat and our lives will ring hollow for a long time to come. I would not blame someone for now saying, "It's only a cat. Get a life!" But the point is I have a life-- rich and rewarding. And I have that life in no small part because of that spirited little beast. I once spent five months alone in the Arctic wilderness. Up there it gets dark and it stays dark for a very long time. Mature male polar bears do not hibernate. They roam the lonely landscape searching for any hint of life and vulnerability. Before Halifax and I would forage out for freshwater ice or to clear the hatches of drifted snow, she would sit on the top companionway step for up to a half hour just listening. She would turn her little head steadily like a radar interpreting signals too subtle for my muted human senses. If she returned to the bottom of the sleeping bag, then so would I. The next day I would find signs of the bear's ambush site next to the boat.
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