Lion Called Christian (6 page)

But he grew very quickly. Within two months the beginnings of a mane developed and he suddenly looked quite adult. It was unfair, and probably unwise, to expect innocent customers to cope with a lion springing from behind a chest of drawers and clasping them around their thighs with his huge paws. He left most people alone, but like many other animals, he instinctively knew those who were frightened, and he enjoyed teasing them. Obviously, we could not risk any incidents, and no insurance company was prepared to cover us.

We began to feel the weight of the responsibility of owning Christian. Chelsea Football Ground is nearby, and the police visited us to advise us that on match days Christian should not be allowed to be in the windows as this could be a provocation to the passing football supporters. He had to spend much more time in the basement, and was only permitted in the shop when there were no customers. He enjoyed being there, and he had many toys to play with, but he resented not having the freedom to go up to the shop when he wished. Sometimes he would unnecessarily squat on his kitty litter tray, as an unsubtle sign that he was ready to go upstairs. Like all cats, lions are happy to sleep if there is nothing better to do, but his hours in the basement were broken by many visits. The others at Sophistocat-- Joe, John, and Jennifer-Mary--adored Christian, and he was just as fond of them. Usually, at least one of us would be downstairs playing with him. When people came to see him, we took them down as it was easier for us to be in complete control of the situation, and, if necessary, prevent him from jumping on them. He was an unusually accepting lion and there were very few people he disliked. It was difficult to discover what he objected to. Sometimes it may have been a strong perfume or an aftershave lotion, and he always jumped up on one friend of ours, but only when he wore a particular coat.

We tried to keep him unaware of just how much, or how little, control we had over him. After the first few months it took him a surprisingly long time to realize that, although we could still just carry him, if he struggled we had to release him immediately. If he played too roughly with us, we stopped, and because of this, he never knew the point where he had, in fact, become physically stronger than we were. For a lion he was very obedient, and he usually cooperated with us. Only rarely would he ignore our remonstrations, and when this happened, there was very little we could do. We just had to pretend that we were not worried by what he was doing, rather than let him know that we could not stop him. It was a fascinating psychological game, but the stakes were high.

Lions give extremely clear and fair warnings of their displeasure. With their strength, teeth, and claws, it would be foolish to disregard them. Only once in the months that Christian lived at Sophistocat were we very frightened of him. He found a fur belt that had dropped off a coat, and delighted by this find, he ran down into the basement. We followed him to retrieve it. He was chewing the belt and making excited sucking sounds. We knew that this would be something he would be reluctant to give up. We tried to take it from him, but he flattened his ears and snarled a ferocious warning. He was an unrecognizable, wild animal. Undoubtedly, he would have attacked us if we had tried again to take the belt from him. We wanted to leave him, but we slowly moved a few yards away and talked to one another as if nothing had happened and as if we had forgotten about the belt. We realized we must not convey to him how frightened we were. It could have encouraged him to repeat this performance if he had sensed how effective it was. After about five minutes his excitement over the belt, and his anger, subsided. We spent the next few hours talking and playing with him very normally. We respected him for his distinct warning. This incident was never repeated, but we had been given an important reminder of Christian's potential danger.

W
hen the Lady Mayor of Kensington and Chelsea came into Sophistocat to meet Christian, she bent over to stroke him, and her elaborate chain of office dangled temptingly in front of him. He could not resist, and a large paw went out and swiped at it. The chain whirled around her neck. She was dazed but unhurt. Lions, monarchs by birth, are not impressed by the trappings of municipal office.

A diverse assortment of people met Christian, and some of them visited him regularly. One woman came into the shop with jelly-babies for the bear she heard lived there. She was greatly disappointed to hear that Christian was only a lion, and worse, was not tempted by the jelly-babies. Actresses Diana Rigg and Mia Farrow, customers at Sophistocat, loved meeting him, and both came back to play with him. As Christian received considerable publicity, several people came into the shop concerned that we were just using him as a gimmick, but they were placated to see him so happy, healthy, and apparently very fond of us.

Having a lion became part of our lives, and we had to accept all the interest he aroused. If we were not with him we were continuously being asked about him. We had to listen patiently to people's stories about their "wild" cats, while others reminisced of their experiences in Africa. We were constantly asked, "How long is it before he becomes a man-eater?" It was impossible to relate such questions to Christian, especially when watching him play with his best friend, Unity Bevis-Jones.

Unity met Christian in January 1970 one month after we had bought him. She heard that a lion lived at Sophistocat and rushed immediately to the shop. She visited Christian every afternoon, and her life revolved around him. She was so slight we were worried that he would unintentionally hurt her, but she handled him extremely well. She wore a thick coat and a rather mad felt hat for protection. This hat obscured most of her face, and it was only when Christian finally ate the hat several weeks later that we realized how attractive she was.

Unity was addicted to lions. One day in Rome, where she was an actress, she had decided that she wanted a lion, although she had not known any before. She managed to persuade the Rome Zoo to sell her a nine-month-old lioness that had just arrived at the zoo from Africa and had never been handled by humans before. It did not occur to Unity to be frightened of lions. After the lioness, called Lola, was delivered in a crate, she was surprised when her flatmate locked herself in her bedroom for a fortnight. Unity found landlords just as unreasonable, and she estimates that in the year and a half she and Lola lived together they moved about twenty times. When Unity had to return to England, Lola went to live with friends near Naples. Unity had an extraordinary affinity with Christian, and we could understand how she had managed to have a successful and accident-free relationship with Lola under much more difficult circumstances.

Each afternoon when Unity arrived at Sophistocat, Christian could be heard in the basement, noisily playing football with something, usually a plastic bucket. At the sound of her footsteps on the stairs, he would stop playing and listen and wait to see who it was. Unity would say: "Hello, Christian, it's me." Christian would grunt loudly, his normal greeting, and jump up at the locked door to peer at her through a small round hole. To prevent him from running upstairs when she opened the door, Unity would ask Christian to move away before she came in. Although still close to the door, with a lionlike meow he would indicate that it was safe for her to come in. "No," she would say, "that's not far enough, go farther away." After a brief silence, Christian would grunt, and if the grunt sounded sufficiently distant to Unity's experienced ears, she then went into the basement and shut the door behind her. Christian would rush to greet her fondly and, grabbing her by the coat, would enthusiastically lead her around the basement.

If he was too boisterous, and ignored her when she said, "Don't be too rough," or "Stop it, Christian," she would edge toward the door when he was not looking and leave him. Christian would run to the door and meow and grunt. We would hear Unity say, "You're very naughty, and if you don't behave, I'm not coming in to play with you. I'm not a bucket, and I don't expect to be treated like one." As an apology, a few sorrowful grunts would follow, getting farther and farther from the door, to show Unity she could come in without his rushing upstairs. Reprimanded, but always forgiven, he would now be gentle with her, and they would entertain each other with games and conversation for the rest of the afternoon.

One of Christian's most endearing characteristics was that he had individual relationships with all of us; only subtle differences, but different greetings, different games and tricks, and he knew exactly what each of us would let him get away with. Unity could never bring herself to refuse him anything. She often came to the garden with us, and the hours she spent with him each day in the basement made an enormous contribution to keeping him gentle. Animals have personalities that they can be encouraged to develop or express, and Unity taught us just how diverse Christian's personality was.

We gave more time and affection to Christian than either of us had consciously given to anything or anybody else before. It was a commitment and a responsibility that gave our lives a sense of purpose we had not previously felt. Our days were spent with him, and at night we put him in his room in the basement if we wanted to go out. One of us, quite often both of us at different hours, would let him out for a run around the shop late at night before going to bed. As the shop was closed on Sundays, and Christian enjoyed any change of environment, we sometimes took him on outings. But there are not many places you can take a lion in London. One day we took him to Kensington Gardens. He was frightened by all the space, and although on a long leash, he just hugged the fence for security. Not surprisingly, so many people gathered around him that it made this and similar outings to parks impossible.

We telephoned a Dr. Barnardo's Home to see if the children would enjoy a visit from Christian. The woman we spoke to was rather surprised, but when we assured her that he was not "dangerous," she accepted. We told her it was inadvisable for Christian to actually be with the children, and asked if there was an enclosed area for him. She suggested that the children could safely watch from inside the building, while "the lion grazes on the grass outside"!

But Christian's visit met with an unexpected lack of interest. Little faces were pressed against the windows for a few minutes, and then the children returned to their toys. While we had afternoon tea with the children, Christian was shut in a room. But a mischievous child let him out, and he came to look for us. The children screamed, scattered, and scrambled onto chairs and tables. Leaving chaos and probably many nightmares behind, we drove a confused little lion back to Sophistocat.

Christian was often invited with us to visit friends and other people, and occasionally we took him. On one visit Christian pushed open a bathroom door, and we ran when we heard a scream from our friend in the bath. It was difficult to know who was more frightened, Christian or our friend. The one household geared to incorporating a visit from a lion was that sharedby Charles Bewick, Peter Bowen, and Margot the puma. We visited them quite often, and Christian spent Christmas Day there, while we visited friends in the country. Christian had been specifically not invited. Margot was a beautiful animal with an attractive purr, but her behavior was unpredictable, and it was difficult to relax in her company. She eventually ended up living on an estate in the country. We had hoped, rather naively, that Margot and Christian would be friends as we did not know any dogs strong enough to be his playmates. But Margot was a different species, a different sex, and a year older, and she was intensely antagonistic toward him. He was just indifferent. In fairness to her, Christian was an intruder on her territory. It was possible to have them in the same room together, but the only time he approached her, Margot whipped her paw at him and scratched his velvety nose. Christian did not care, but we were upset because he was to appear on television the next day!

In the middle of January 1970, month after we had bought him, Thames Television heard that a lion was living at Sophistocat and invited Christian to appear on
Magpie
, their children's magazine program. He was only to appear for a few minutes, so we thought we could cope with it. We drove out to the television studios at Teddington, rather excited but uncertain as to how Christian would behave. Unfortunately, we had to have several rehearsals before the live performance, and we felt this was rather unnecessary, as Christian reacted differently each time and was increasingly less cooperative. He was confused and dazzled by the glaring studio lights and frightened by the cameras when they advanced toward him. He was irritated at having to spend so much time on a leash, but long-suffering rather than angry. We regretted having accepted
Magpie's
invitation, and nervously waited for the live performance. It was impossible to predict what Christian would do. One of us was to be interviewed, and at the same time try to keep Christian in camera range. He was apparently a great success, although what appeared to be a playful romp on the studio floor was in reality a struggle to stop him from running away.