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If I started out by saying 'everything I care about ultimately dies on me', it would be a lie. To say so would do a serious disservice to all the good I've managed to do in the world, and all the good I have left in me to do. But that is surely how I feel right now. Sitting here, in the dark, with you, I feel as if everything I care about is dying on me. I was there when they cut you from your mother's womb. I went to you as I did your sisters to administer the antidote to the sedative. I helped rub your frail, wet body, until your tiny lungs expanded with air and unleashed your first peal of life. And my heart leapt from within at the new lion cub present. I was filled with the most terrific joy that success was at hand—that you might live and I was there to see it. And now… Now…I watch your head, so large I can barely manage its weight, bob and twitch helplessly. With every motion, I hear your whimper of pain. When you look at me, I see the pleading in your eyes for help that I cannot give. And it hurts me on a level I cannot begin to describe. I cannot ask you what is the matter, because even then you would not know. And I cannot divine what must be done, because I know so little. And it is this gap of knowledge between what I need to know and what I know that torments me to my very core. Why? Because right now, everything I care about is dying on me.
I wonder what you would have been like at 400 pounds…as I valiantly tried to keep you from squashing me under your mass as you demanded kisses and tried to flop on me. But that is not to be…and I can see that, even as your head continues to bob and twitch uncontrollably. We've tried what we could—and failed. And this failure will cost you your life. And it's not fair…it's so not fair. But I will not watch you suffer for the sake of my desire to keep you alive. Here, in the dark, you recognize me through amber eyes. And even as you try to sit up to flop onto me in love again, my eyes fill with tears at the memory. I want to give you that hug…to bring you into that place where you felt safe. In my arms…heart to heart…head over shoulder…with a heavy velvet paw wrapped around me. The effort alone torments you, and I can tell from your hesitant steps and pained mewling that it is a tremendous effort indeed. And I can't stand to see it. My eyes want to burst with tears but there are none to be had. My heart breaks, leaving the shards of shattered dreams along with its pieces below. I want to remember you as you were…the playful, curious cub that was always flopping and floundering over your sisters. I want to remember you sitting in my lap, just happy to receive scratches and love, as you did before. I want to remember those big lion cub eyes that looked at me with wonder and delight, no matter how long it had been since we last saw each other. We were part of the same pride, you and I. Our relationship was part of a dream I had long ago. Your sisters will carry it on, but it is not the same. It never will be the same without you.
Wherever you go, Nyota…you will always be a star. |
As a
little lioness, you were precious to me. You brought so much love and
affection, and demanded nothing less but the same in return. And I
was all too happy to give it to you. Even as we worked through your
claws and bites, you improved over time to understand that rule. You
were always the first to give kisses and love. And you relished
clambering into my lap and leaning into my arms for a big hug.
I will remember you, but I want you to forget this place. Forget all
the trauma and trouble. Forget all the political bullshit that keeps
us mired in each other and not in your needs. Forget the financial
shortfalls that prevent us from giving you the kind of environment
that you deserve. And forget the captivity…the world of chain link
and chains. Come back wild and free in the savanna. Grow to be
strong and true—to lead hunts with your pride. Grow to have cubs of
your own and know what it is to love them as I love you.