Lion Called Christian

by Anthony Bourke

  We had not told Christian that he was a lion. We thought this knowledge would only lead to regrettable lionlike behavior. We avoided using the word lion in front of him, but occasionally had to spell out L-I-O-N to ignorant people, who thought Christian was a leopard because of his spots. He enjoyed looking at himself in the large mirrors at Sophistocat, so while he must have been confused as to what sort of animal he was, he knew exactly what he looked like. He often accompanied us in the car, and as there are possibly more sculptured lions in London than there are live ones in Africa, we decided to tell him the truth, before he discovered it himself and asked awkward questions. We drove him to Trafalgar Square to see the lions at the base of Nelson's Column. He was delighted to be such an obvious symbol of nobility. Fortunately, this information did not alter his behavior, for he had, like all cats, assumed superiority over us from the beginning. But too much knowledge could be dangerous or confusing, so we asked the Moravian minister not to tell Christian that the early Christians had been fed to the lions.

  Consistent with their standards, Harrods had sold us a lion of quality. He was very healthy and had a beautiful nature. He was even-tempered, and not easily alarmed or frightened. These qualities were reinforced by his trust in us and his strong feeling of security. The fact that his behavior was, in general, quite predictable and consistent made living with him much easier than it could have been. We navigated our way very carefully with him, and learned about him quickly. We rarely misjudged his intentions, and we learned to anticipate any situations that could have unpredictable outcomes.

  The King's Road, Chelsea. Ace left, John right.

  Above: Easter 1970. "And there were no casualties ..."

  Right: In the flat above Sophisticat.

  Lift: Surveying his kingdom in Sophisticat.

  Center: His favorite position--on the stairs at Sophisticat.

  Bottom: Football in the Moravian Close.

  Right: Christian was always curious and could never resist an open drawer.

  Bottom left: Christian, like all lions, was fascinated by children.

  Bottom right: John (left) and Ace (right) with Christian on the stairs to the flat.

  John (left) and Ace (right) in the showroom at Sophisticat.

  Lunch with model Emma Breeze at the Casserole Restaurant in the King's Road, Chelsea.

  Christian with Mark at Todd's Hairdressers in the World's End.

  In the flat above Sophisticat.

  Top: Radio presenter Jack de Manio tries to interview Christian, who failed to "roar" for the listeners, for the BBC.

  Bottom: Christian meeting Virginia McKenna and Bill Travers in Sophisticat.

  Watching out for customers at Sophisticat.

  Playing hide-and-seek in the Moravian Close.

  It was easy to recognize a psychological pattern of behavior in him that could be interpreted in human terms. While this is anthropomorphic, to us aspects of his personality did resemble a human's personality. His "sense of humor" seemed very similar to ours. If he tripped over something, and with his huge paws he tended to be rather clumsy for a lion, he appeared "embarrassed" but would quickly pretend, as most people do, that nothing had happened. It seemed lions can communicate with humans much more closely than almost all other animals can. We were realizing that the two most powerful predators in the world have so much in common.

  Christian's personality was immense, and his presence entirely filled the shop and our lives. We realized that if the months he was to live with us were to be as happy for him as we intended, he had to be allowed as much natural expression as possible. For him to remain the content, even-tempered animal he was, it was necessary, in addition to giving him all the time and affection we had, to minimize any restriction.

  We attained a relationship of mutual respect, with no hint from him of domestic-animal subservience. We made no attempt to dominate or train him, and in our experience this would probably have had disastrous consequences. Besides, it is doubtful if a lion can ever be totally dominated, perhaps just precariously controlled. And a lion's respect is not easily earned. Christian had a determined character, but he seemed to realize that he had to cooperate, and he quickly knew what sort of behavior would not be allowed. Neither of us has had any contact with circus animals or animals used in live entertainment. One can only guess at the psychological games, bribes, rewards, and punishments involved in getting animals to perform. In 2003 Roy, half of the Las Vegas double act Siegfried and Roy, was attacked by a tiger during one of their animal illusionist performances.

  Christian hated being ignored, and was very conscious of the effect he had on people. He could not resist testing the reactions of newcomers, and always remembered if people had not coped well with him previously. Like all animals he always knew when someone was uncomfortable around him, and would take advantage of this. If customers had not noticed him sitting on the stairs in the shop, he would grunt to attract their attention. From this commanding position, his paws knocked off several hats and pairs of glasses. He was extremely curious, and his eyes were always watching and searching for anything new that had to be investigated.

  It was his eyes that were his most arresting feature. They were expressive, intelligent eyes that could transmit love and trust, or they could challenge or defy us. Sometimes they had incredible clarity and brightness, but sometimes they could be opaque, unknowable, and impenetrable, and stare straight through us, beyond to a dimension from which we were excluded.

  Christian possessed a memory for people and places, and demonstrated a high degree of intelligence compared to other lions we met. He quickly learned how to open the door of the basement if it was not locked. We kept his food for the day on the tops of various cupboards in the office at the back of the shop, and he frequently managed to cleverly climb high enough on other furniture, in order to stand up on his hind legs and knock his food to the floor.

  Unlike most other members of the cat family, lions are gregarious and social animals living in an extended family pride. Christian undoubtedly regarded us as his family, and was tremendously affectionate toward us. Lions greet each other with a ceremonial touching of heads, and we often knelt to enable him to do this with us. Any parting from him, regardless of its duration, involved another fond greeting, a lick and a cuddle. He enjoyed being close, often either leaning against us or actually sitting on us. Sometimes lie would dramatically leap from the ground into our arms, which was a greeting for us that no one had ever seen before with lions. Of course, he could be arrogant and demanding, but if he had to be disciplined, either verbally or with a smack, he accepted it and did not bear any resentment. He was very much aware if we were displeased with him, and if he felt it was deserved, he would make obvious and usually successful attempts to win us over again.

  Christian was particularly unaggressive and un-possessive about his food, which indicated that in some respects he was an exceptional lion. He had no other animals to compete with and he was fed regularly, both of which must have been contributing factors. But people who knew a great deal more about lions than we did were always astounded by his attitude toward his food. He had a healthy appetite, and in his eagerness he often knocked his food out of our hands before we had time to place it on the floor for him. But we could take his food away from him if it was necessary, even out of his mouth. He loved the marrow inside bones, but as he was unable to get it out, he gently ate it from the tips of our fingers.

  Lions depend to a large extent on their mouths for communication and contact. He licked us to show his affection. His rough tongue always tested surfaces for their taste and texture. He had sharp milk teeth, and while he enjoyed mouthing our hands and arms, he quickly learned not to bite us. There were moods, however, in which his mouth just hung open, waiting to be filled. Kneecaps were a suitable height. Our clothes were often damaged by his teeth or claws getting caught, and we sometimes resorted to wearing practical bottle-green boiler suits.

  A lion needs to exercise his
claws and jaws. In the first few weeks, several table and chair legs were damaged. However, after a few smacks he gave this up, especially when he realized he could use the banisters on the stairs in the shop instead. Lions are creatures of habit. They are earthbound in comparison with other cats, and he did not jump all over the furniture. But he enjoyed surveying his domain from a height, and would often sit on tables and chests of drawers. Fortunately, he preferred the stairs, which gave him greater height, and he would sit with a paw dangling elegantly over the side. Actually, he damaged very little furniture, and this only occurred if he slipped and dug his claws in for support. One day, rather unwisely, a very expensive table had been elaborately set with cutlery, china, glasses, and candles in the middle of the shop. We heard the sound of breaking glass and immediately knew what had happened. In the confusion Christian had moved his weight to one side of the table, and he and the tabletop crashed to the floor. The table had been sold, and now there were several deep scratches on it. We telephoned the woman who had bought it to apologize. "Don't worry," she said, "I only came into the shop to see Christian. The table was an afterthought. Please don't worry about the scratches, they will remind me of that beautiful lion." But he could never resist attacking the mattress on a brass bed in the shop. This problem was solved only when a friend very generously brought Christian a mattress of his own and, wildly excited, like a wild lion with a kill, he expertly dragged it down to the basement, although it was much bigger and heavier than he was.

  He had formidably sharp claws, and before he learned to control them, we received many scratches. But within two months he developed more control over them, and he also realized that we stopped playing with him if we were scratched. He learned to keep them sheathed, but if he was wrestling with something such as his mattress, pretending it was a zebra he had just stalked and thrown to the ground, we had to remember that his claws would instinctively be out.

  Like all lions, Christian was fascinated by children and reacted differently to them, seeming to consider them a different species from adults. We were always extremely careful, and held him if children were in the shop. One day a photographer from a local newspaper was taking a photograph of him, on a leash, outside Sophistocat. A woman, probably thinking Christian was a dog, strode in front of him with her two-year-old child, also on a leash. Christian curiously extended one paw and knocked the child to the pavement. One of us grabbed Christian while the other obscured the photographer from the sort of photograph the newspapers crave. The child was slightly dazed, but so swaddled with clothes it could not possibly have been hurt. At first the mother was furious, but as she returned later with endless friends, and other children to dangle in front of Christian, she was apparently delighted with the incident.

  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.

  When 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 aft
ernoon, 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.