Lions, Lions and Theo, Oh My

 Sometimes I see my cats at home as miniature lions or tigers--their fur and coloring, the way they stalk their prey, and even though none the three--Theo, Sienna or Mico--have actual manes, they prowl and growl like a lion. That's why I'm not too surprised to discover that Theo becomes mesmerized by the lion exhibit. 

Now most zoos have lions--from the well known Philadelphia Zoo to the smaller and less known Paws and Claws in Pennsylvania. But how close can you actually get to seeing a lion up close and personal? I guess the other question is how close do you want to get?

The Schonbrunn Zoo has one of the most eye-popping lion exhibits I've ever seen. From one vantage point, as Mr. Lion stalks around the exhibit, he can get so close . . . well, it feels as if he is going to somehow pass through the glass that separates him from us and touch our noses.

Theo gets close, too. They stare eye to eye, and I know what Theo is thinking. He wants to sniff Mr. Lion. He wants to find some way in. I can see his head swishing from side to side. He knows there's glass there; he's well acquainted with windows and patio doors at home. 

He looks up at me expectantly. 

"This isn't a sliding glass door," I tell him. 

He looks disappointed.

"Trust me, Theo, you don't want it to be a sliding door."

Theo glances at Dan because it's obvious I'm not making any sense. 

"Lions are wild animals," Dan says. "Dangerous."

I want to say: "He'll want you for lunch, a cute little cat like yourself." I don't. No sense scaring the kid. I hope it's enough--this close encounter with a lion, even if he can only see him. 

Theo taps on the glass. The lion lets out a roar.

"Don't do that. You really don't want to rile him up."

Now he's pouting because Mr. Lion, assessing the situation, is beginning to stalk away.

"He either wants a snack or he wants a nap," I pronounce with authority. 

I'm wrong. 

"Look." Dan catches sight of another lion in the exhibit. The wife. She is proudly sitting on a rock at the highest point in the exhibit. That's where Mr. Lion is going.

"Look, Theo. There he is."

I'm reminded of an observation in Out of Africa, the memoir not the movie, when Karen Blixen, after her beloved Denys Finch Hatton has died and she has moved back to Denmark, receives a letter from a friend that the Maasai have reported seeing lions on Deny's grave in Kenya every sunrise and sunset. She sees the lions as a fitting tribute to the man she loved.

We spend a few more moments watching these two majestic creatures sit side by side, and I'm reminded how it's small moments like these that make life so wonderful.