Again, I find myself in a quandary, should I? Or not, or maybe, or why be chicken. Dang. But the desire to go is strong, and I am finding that I think about the Pond Place during my day. Bits of the landscape pop into my mind. When they do I realize I quiet a bit. My monkey mind torments me, and I want to find healthy ways to quiet and calm it. Frogs do, and I smile inside when I remember Penny’s bath. So, I’ll go. “Penny”.
We walk more purposefully now. She knows that we are not going to the mailbox or take a turn around the block. Nose in the air, she leads me. Today it took a little longer to come upon the entrance. I was getting a little worried that it would not come. But a few long breaths, practicing patience, and there it was. We walked in like old timers.
Maybe 20 feet in, Penny stopped and went on full alert. Startled, I halted and watched to see what she was going to do. A deep growl began in her throat, and she pulled at the leash. No way was I going to let her off. Out of the trees on my right strolled the biggest male lion I had ever seen. Now granted the only lions I had ever seen were lying down in the zoo or on Nature, but this one was huge. About 10+ feet long and around 500 pounds. Standing up on his back feet he would have been taller than I. Penny continued on alert and moved to stand in front of me, all 15 pounds of her. I appreciated the gesture.
She was confused, but I knew it was Aslan. I spoke his name and he nodded and lay down on the path, then rolled over on his back. He looked very undignified that way, but it signaled Penny. The growling stopped and was replaced with a whine. I got the message and let her go. She ran almost up to him and began to sniff! Wow, did she ever sniff. Lion smell was new to us both. She circled him as he lay there. I stepped forward just a few steps. Not once did she look to me for an ok signal, and I said nothing. I figured he was taking care of it.
Sure enough, she moved in and licked his nose, her favorite hello. He rolled on his side and licked her back which rolled her backwards signaling play. She moved in and out, feigning attack with her tail about to wag off. She had her play voice on full, and I heard him sounding back. Not quite a purr, but a contented rumble.
Penny then ran to me and back to Aslan, telling me to join in. So I did. He came to his feet, stepped to greet me, and looked into my eyes. I teared up I was so amazed to see him. I dropped to my knees and hugged him. I felt like Lucy felt. It was wonderful. He was warm and hard, muscle hard, but his stance was relaxed and welcoming. I put my nose in his mane to imprint his scent into me, much like Penny was doing. His coat was surprisingly soft, not pokey like I thought it would be. The color was the familiar gold, but when he stepped into the sun, it glowed, almost too much so. His eyes had flecks of gold and his whiskers were black. He sat back on his haunches and yawned, reminding me that he was, after all, a lion.
I have loved lions for a long time. When I was about 10, my parents took us to a real dude ranch in Canada. We slept in a cabin, had our meals in the mess hall and played games in the lounge at night with a fire. We were each given a horse to ride during our stay. I can’t remember its name, but I fell in love with it. On our way there, we stopped, and I was given the choice of a stuffed animal to have as company for the trip. I picked a lion, Lionsides as I named him, and he became my companion. On one of the last nights there we were to dress up in costumes. I pulled my hair back tight, Mom drew a mustache on my lip, I tied a rope to a stick and behold, A Lion-tamer! Lionsides being the lion that needed taming. Grand fun. I still have him, one glass eye gone, most whiskers lost and fur no longer gold but a matted tan. Since then, I have spent many an hour watching films about lions on PBS. And then Lewis introduced the world to Aslan, and here he was with me.
What to do now? He made the decision, walking to the pond. He leaned in, drinking from the fresh water flowing in from under the reeds. Penny went beside him to get a drink too. I lurched towards her, but he gently used his paw to steady her. Seeing them side by side brought tears again, enough to run down my cheeks. He looked at me as if he understood. The frogs were singing a frogy song of welcome. As I listened, there seemed to be some sense to it. The granddaddy singing base and the little ones were the tenors, and all the others just joined right in. Smiling now, I walked to the wall, sat down, and leaned back to see what would happen next.
As I settled in, Aslan came and lay down beside me. I was thrilled. I could stroke him, petting seems too ordinary, feeling the different textures of his coat. He was watching Penny and the frogs at play, and then put his massive head down. With my hand on his neck, I felt before I heard him purr. This huge, commanding, King of the Jungle, the most famous of all the cats, purring. And yet, I felt so safe and protected. With him there, nothing could hurt Penny or me.
The sun and warm breeze did the soothing and Penny came from her romp to lie with us. She chose to settle next to him with her little head on his big paw. With a sigh, she was content. So was I. Even the frogs seemed to want some downtime. The more adventurous ones came hopping up to rest in my lap, in the grass by Aslan’s paw and even by Penny. If I could have purred, I would have. I had never known such peace.
Time slipped away as it had the other times at the pond, lulled by the forest sounds. Then Aslan lifted his head, Penny yawned and stood up, the frogs went on their way.
When Aslan stood, so did I. Taking up her leash, we walked down the path. Penny was on my left, Aslan on my right. He walked us to the entrance, gave a very soft roar and stepped back. Our cue, we went home, smiling.
