Lion Called Christian Read Online Free PDF Page B

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