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.
Before his appearance on television, only a few newspapers had been interested in Christian. Suddenly he was more widely known, and there was much more curiosity about him, although the people who interviewed us seemed disappointed that owning a lion was less complicated than they had expected. The photographs they published were always of Christian yawning, with his teeth bared, and of course they appeared as vicious snarls. The publicity was good for Sophistocat, but we realized that if it was to continue we had to have control over the photographs published so that Christian could at least be portrayed accurately. We met a photographer, Derek Cattani, who got on well with Christian, and a pictorial record of his life in London began. The newspapers were quite welcome to buy a photograph if they wanted one.
People contacted us about wanting to use Christian in television commercials or for various promotional purposes. He was such an expense for us that we were prepared to be mildly commercial, providing he suffered no stress or discomfort. He liked outings and enjoyed his few sporadic "jobs," but in general lie had a regular routine and a very stable life. He did a Nights on the Wild Side photo shoot for fashion magazine Vanity Fair, advertising nightgowns. It was easy work, for he was just required to lie on a bed with a beautiful model and be photographed. The caption read:
Beware the man-hunting feline! Some stalk their prey in the jungle; others play pussy at home in lounging lingerie that clings and ripples with the same cat-like grace. Our lingerie isn't meant for lonesome evenings--put it on when you're planning to pounce, and if he doesn't, then get another cat for company!
Christian always enjoyed chewing hair, and the model had masses of it. He planned to pounce, and she became rather frightened and was actually heard to say: "My face is my fortune"! Restrained, Christian bit a hole in the goat-skin bedspread and destroyed two satin p
illows instead.
Several months later, the airline BOAG (now British Airways) contacted us. They were opening a new route to Africa and wanted Christian to make a very brief appearance at a promotional event where he created quite a sensation and easily outshone the other African representatives--potted palm trees and avocadoes. He earned thirty guineas, which we paid into his account at the bank. Photographs taken of Christian opening this account appeared in the bank house-journal with the caption "Tough Customer at Chelsea." It was an easy way of pacifying the manager about our overdrafts. We also did a series of Easter photographs for the newspapers, of Christian with six little chickens, and he was amazingly gentle and there were no casualties.
When he was about seven months old and obviously leaving his cub days behind, there was suddenly again a much greater and more widespread public interest. People were astounded that he was still so easy to manage. Experts from London Zoo and the Feline Advisory Bureau, for example, were astonished at how domesticated and well-behaved Christian was. He was now regarded less as a novelty and more as a London personality owned "by two Australians." We were interviewed by several American and Australian newspapers and broadcasting services.
Jack de Manio, of the early-morning Today program on BBC Radio, telephoned to invite Christian to be interviewed. At our suggestion he came into Sophistocat to meet Christian beforehand, and we warned him that Christian could be very inarticulate if he was not in the mood, a disadvantage in a radio interview. As Christian had not yet roared, it was unlikely that Jack de Manio's listeners would be treated to his first attempt.
A car was sent to Sophistocat at 6:30 A.M. the next morning, and the three of us were taken to Broadcasting House. When we arrived the commissionaire blocked our entry to the building and, scarcely glancing at what was on the end of the leash, he challenged:
"No dogs allowed in here--it's the regulations."
"Do your regulations extend to lions?" we asked.
But people do not argue with lions, and as we strode past him into the building, he nimbly jumped aside.
Christian was far too interested in investigating the paraphernalia in the radio studio like tempting cords and wires, and looking at the faces pressed against the studio windows, to even consider making any lion-like noises in his interview. We spoke briefly on his behalf, but the caption in the following day's Daily Mail read:
MIKE-SHY CHRISTIAN FLOPS ON RADIO
We were mystified when we received a telephone call from the BBC at Sophistocat later in the day. Without being offered any explanation, we were curtly asked Christian's value, but it was not a question we had ever had reason to consider. Several days later, we read in Charles Greville's column in the Daily Mail what had happened. The caption was:
THE LION BEHIND BARS OF RED TAPE
BBC regulations stated that animals brought into the building had to be insured, but because of some slip-up, "an hilarious situation built up with poker-faced officialdom going about the business of taking out a policy against damage to their departed guests. And, presumably, damage to the hosts, although as events had already shown by that time, the animal could hardly raise a yawn in the studio, let alone breakfast off de Manio and his team ... and the value of the publicity-shy jungle king? PS500 say the owners.
Newspapers invariably rang us if a lion or other wild animal attacked or killed someone anywhere in the world. We enjoyed disappointing them with glowing reports of Christian's impeccable behavior. So many newspapers were inaccurate in their information about Christian that it was surprising we received only one hostile letter. After an article had appeared in an American newspaper in April 1970, a woman wrote a long abusive letter. She concluded:
"What do you intend doing with him when you tire of him? He must now be growing up and after the life you have forced him to lead, he must be getting vicious and dangerous. No doubt you have had his claws and perhaps even his teeth removed, so I'm sure no zoo would want him. End his miserable life and have him put to sleep." Declawing Christian had never been an option for us, and incorrect as she was about Christian's life with us at Sophistocat, we did share her concern for his future.
By April 1970 Christian was bored. He was then eight months old and rapidly outgrowing Sophistocat. Life had become repetitive and seemed to contain very few surprises for him. He was irritated that he had outgrown his favorite sitting spot on the stairs. It was too easy for him to climb all over the furniture in the shop, and now weighing 130 pounds, he was heavy enough to accidentally break the plate-glass windows. He was requiring more freedom, while we could only give him less. If he chose to behave badly, and he was now capable of inflicting serious damage, we knew we could not control him. Whereas he had previously been an attraction for the shop, his size was beginning to frighten customers away. George Lazenby, the actor of 007 James Bond fame, came to visit with a friend of ours one afternoon. Christian was sitting in the window, and even George could not be persuaded to enter the shop. So Christian was spending most of his time in the basement, and increasingly resenting any form of restriction.
He was less contented and so were we. It had become an enormous strain on us. We had a responsibility toward Christian, but also had to avoid creating any dangerous situations. It was inadvisable to wait and see what form his frustrations might take.
The question of his future, which had hung over us from the very beginning, now inescapably confronted us. We went to Longleat Safari Park again, for as we had discovered before we bought Christian, it seemed to offer the best living conditions for lions in England. This time we knew much more about lions. Because of the likelihood that Christian would soon be going there, we were proudly, but mistakenly, shown other sides of Longleat. We saw what an enormous commercial concern the Longleat-Chipperfield partnership had become, for apart from the lions in the Park, Mary Chipper-field provided an animal-hiring service for film and television companies. Also, some of the lions we saw were apparently part of a traveling circus. It was doubtful whether we could ensure that Christian would be introduced into a pride and live in the Park, and not be used for more obvious commercial purposes. We decided that for Christian, Longleat Safari Park was no longer a satisfactory solution.
To send him to a zoo would have been a betrayal of faith difficult for us to live with, but much more difficult for him. We now hoped to find someone with a large country estate who would love and care for him the same way that we did. Looking for other alternatives, we visited several private zoos. They were perhaps more rural than their city counterparts, but more amateurish, and just as restricting and insensitive.
One afternoon the actor Bill Travers came into the shop and was soon joined by his wife, actress Virginia McKenna. They had starred in the 1966 film Born Free, the story of Elsa the lioness who had been returned to the wild by Joy and George Adam-son, and the film, like the book, had been a huge hit, although we were unfamiliar with either. We assumed that their association with lions had brought them to Sophistocat. Disappointingly, they were only shopping for a pine desk, but we were unable to resist the opportunity of introducing them to Christian. They were astonished to see a lion run toward us and greet us affectionately. We talked about Christian's life with us, and they understood our dilemma about his future. They were pleased we had "rescued" Christian from a cage at Harrods but disapproved of the purchasing and trafficking in exotic animals. Since starring in Born Free they had devoted their lives primarily to producing documentaries about animal conservation. Bill and Virginia had a much wider knowledge of lions than we had, and we asked them endless questions. We were flattered when they said they would like to come and see Christian again.
A few days later, Bill came into Sophistocat with James Hill, who was the director of the film Born Free. We wondered why James had come, and why he questioned us so extensively about Christian. We were surprised and delighted, then, when Bill invited us to dinner at his house at Leith Hill in Surrey. He said he would like to show us a documentary he had
made about lions that had begun their lives in captivity.
Dinner with film stars. It seemed fitting that James Hill should collect us from Sophistocat in his Rolls-Royce, and to the astonishment of the World's Enders, we were grandly swept down to Surrey. After dinner we watched Bill's film The Lions Are Free, showing what had since happened to the lions involved in the filming of Born Free. Twenty-four lions had been used, yet, contrary to the theme of the film, only after a long struggle by Joy, George, Bill, and Virginia was George allowed to rehabilitate three of them. None of the others would have the chance to live a natural life. In The Lions Are Free, Bill visited the three lions George had successfully rehabilitated, and although they had not seen him for three years they remembered him, and he received a fond greeting.
The film ended with Virginia visiting Whipsnade Zoo to see Little Elsa, a lioness she had become particularly fond of during the filming of Born Free. Virginia called her name, and Little Elsa immediately recognized her and ran to the bars of the compound. How could Virginia explain why they could not greet each other as they always had? The parallel with Christian was only too apparent, with the probability that within weeks we would have to condemn him to the same meaningless existence. Sensing our feelings, Bill smiled and said: "I think we can help you solve the problem of Christian's future. We would like to arrange for him to be flown out to Africa where George Adamson can return him to the wild."
It was as if a prison sentence had suddenly, simply, been lifted. Of all the lions ever born in Europe, Christian had been offered an unprecedented reprieve. He was to go back where he belonged. Bill had contacted George Adamson in Kenya after his initial introduction to Christian at Sophistocat. George was extremely interested in the experiment of bringing a lion from England for rehabilitation in Africa, and was confident that it would be successful. Bill and James intended to make a documentary for television that would help to cover the considerable expenses involved.
Lion Called Christian Page 4