TheColumnists.com

 Joyce Kiefer

 

 EPITATH FOR A HUNGRY LION

He knew he didn't belong there, but where else was he to go?

A Lion was in our streets,
but not for very long...

 

By JOYCE KIEFER
of TheColumnists.com

 

The City of Palo Alto, California–population 55,000--is movie-perfect. It likes to regard itself as an extension of Stanford University, which is right across El Camino Real, the former King’s Highway built by Spanish settlers.

Palo Alto schools top the state in scholastic exam scores, as if each were a microcosmic Stanford. The homes in the center of town where the streets are named for famous writers sell for over a million dollars. Large or small, each house is architecturally distinct, surrounded by a well-trimmed garden abloom in roses right now.

Early one morning last week a young mountain lion stepped out from a nearby creek bed and went for a walk down the streets of Palo Alto.

“Magic Realism” comes to life in suburban America. Gabriel Garcia Marquez could take this scene in stride. He might write a story in which the lion talks. “I want to see what men do when animals invade their territory like they do to ours. I mauled one of their horses last week inside a stable near my hills but I didn’t kill it. People were frightened and posted warnings about my presence. Today I’ll explore their streets. I will walk among their children. What will the people and their animals do when they see me? What will I do?”

A shocked delivery man spotted the lion at 4:45 a.m. An hour later someone else sighted the beast. By then he had crossed a busy intersection just before the morning rush began. Police were called. They formed up a safari with officers from four other cities. The California Highway Patrol sent in a helicopter. An automatic telephone alert drummed into the neighbors’ homes.

Officers prepared to saturate the streets near the three local elementary schools in case children walked home before the lion was caught.

This is the stuff of childhood nightmares: You’re walking home and a lion starts to chase you. You run fast and faster (bad advice) and almost reach your front door when . . . Not even the nice policeman can help.

Early in the afternoon the lion surfaced again and the police closed in. An old Labrador retriever treed the cat in a camphor tree with a child’s swing and a tire hanging from its branches. What to do? A tranquilizer dart might take 20 minutes to take effect. During that time the animal might act erratically. Erratic lions are scary.

An officer killed it with one shot.

Then the firestorm began.

The animal rights people spoke out in protest; the neighbors argued among themselves. Palo Alto was in an uproar not seen since leaf blowers were under debate.
Two days later I visited the site. A shrine had sprouted under the tree where the beast had dozed like a cat for a photo op before he was taken out. A photographer was setting up to take pictures of the flowers and messages that had been left in memoriam. A man ranted, “It’s all because of the insurance companies. That’s why the lion was killed.”

He left us to complete that thought. A woman in a van argued with the owner of the house: “Why don’t we kill the squirrels. They carry rabies, which makes them dangerous to more people.” A TV truck across the street monitored the scene.
Most eloquent were the flowers and the notes that went with them. They said so much about the way we never outgrow the cartoons and stories that tell us animals are really humans but with fur or feathers instead. Take “The Lion King.”

An animal control officer left his card with a bouquet of iris from a florist.

A note next to a bouquet of roses read, “God bless your soul, dear Cougar.” Another: “I would gladly have given my life to save you.” A “call for justice” read, “African American man unjustly beaten. Mountain lion killed. (Police) Chief Lynn must go.” One writer stated that he was ashamed to be an American. First Abu Ghraib, then this.

A child wrote, “Now up in heaven my cat has a friend.”

Department of Fish and Game officials did a necropsy on the carcass after dumping it into a truck. Further tests would determine if the lion was the same one that mauled the horse. The lion was a young male. His stomach was completely empty.

©2004 by Joyce Kiefer. The illustration is from IMSI's Master Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA.


You can comment on this column online. Please address your message to either "The Editors" or Joyce Kiefer. To send an email, click here: talkback@thecolumnists.com

 Home  About Us Archives  Talkback   Shopping Mall