Today’s post is brought to you by the letter Y and the category of Fiction
Not too long in the past I had an idea. The idea was to write a book. We have all had that idea but getting it to fruition is a leap most have not made. I sat down at the computer one day. I had no idea what I was going to write about, not one bit. So I just started typing. What you are about to read is the intro to my new book which will be finished shortly after the month of April. I had no idea that I would make such a journey from this.
It all started with a little Yearning.
The Lion and I
There are a few things I learned from the time I spent living with the lion. Three of those of which were very important.
The number one most important thing was never eating in front of a lion.
The number two most important thing, never sneak up behind a lion while he is eating.
The last but not least, never try to ride a lion like a horse.
Lions are not horses. They do not adapt well to riders and as such, will claw your eyes out and eat your heart. Nobody wants their heart eaten.
It was purely by accident that I came to know the lion. I can assure you, I think he might have been happier had he never met me but given the circumstance, neither of us had much choice in the matter.
I was a middle age adult, my waistline was living proof, and he - was a lion.
I don't know how else to put it. I have no idea how old he was, I never asked him.
He wouldn't have answered anyway, he was always masquerading around as if he owned the place, tossing his mane back and forth, and if I asked him a question he was always aloof and mostly ignored me, except when I had food, of course.
In my youth, I had watched many wildlife specials on the television, like Animal Kingdom with Jack Hannah, about animals and not many of them graced the screen more than the formidable lion. The lions were always trying to eat a wildebeest or getting in fights with crocodiles and hippos. Frightful beasts in the least.
In my comparisons of this lion, which in time I came to call my lion, with the lions I had seen on TV, I would have guessed his age around three maybe four years old. I could tell by his mane mostly. The older lions, on the TV, always had long robust manes and my lion had a shorter, more juvenile looking mane. That would explain his inability to listen to instructions and his wetting the bed, my bed that was.
Our relationship was one built on trust. He had to trust me that I wasn't going to put him back where he came from and I had to trust him that he wasn't going to eat me. It was a one-sided issue I can assure you. I didn't see any way that he was going back where he came from, but I did see plenty of ways that he could eat me.
You might say that we became friends on that little island, at least I like to think so. Lions are social creatures and so are humans. Frankly without me he would not have lived long. Had he ate me he may have lived a short while longer but nonetheless, he would have perished.
So in a roundabout way we came to rely on each other quite heavily over the course of our coexistence. I was glad to have someone to share my thoughts with and he was happy to have someone to keep him alive.
He was a much-needed friend in those long days and without him I would not be the same person I am today. You see, I was a vastly different person before I met the lion and the day that I stepped foot on that boat was a day that would forever change my life - and his too.