Sheena and Kaj, 1991

Yesterday, I mentioned reader Sheena’s photos of her pet mountain lion. She made available to me three intriguing pictures of a youngish Sheena playing with “Mr. Lion,” as I called the furry feline.

I mentioned that Sheena (not her name; I just call her that) once described to me her childhood African adventures (as I recall, her parents were missionary translators or something).

Since Sheena and I are Facebook pals, I’ve seen some of her family “Africa” photos, which are just about what you’d expect: young Sheena and a monkey, etc. Innocent stuff. Exotic.

But (I observed) there are no mountain lions in Africa. Lions? Yes. Mountain lions? Nope.

So whence Sheena and her mountain lion?

Today, she wrote me to explain:

There are no Felis concolor (mountain lion, puma, cougar, catamount, panther, etc.) in Africa.

I was twenty years old and living in Texas when Kitty-chan came into my life. His name is Kaj (pronounced like the "Taj" in Taj Mahal). I don't think it means anything. I just made it up; it sounded exotic to me. It sounds Indian, but I don't think they have pumas in India, either. I believe they are only in the Americas.

There was a breeder advertising in the Penny Saver, and I thought I'd drive out and take a look. I had no idea you could just go shopping for lions. This breeder had all sorts of big cats, wolves, wolf-crosses, etc. I saw this cute, spotted, blue-eyed cub and fell in love. But I was really just there to satisfy my curiosity—keeping these creatures is nothing to be undertaken lightly, and it's almost always cruel.

"Oh that's the last one we have right now of those, and he's already spoken for. If you want to put in an order for the next time we breed, you can have first pick. There'll be a deposit, of course."

In the course of the conversation, I found out a bit about where the little guy was headed, and I didn't like it.

"I could pay a little extra to get this one now, instead of waiting. I mean, it's up to you, but since that guy's already late picking him up...I just don't know if I could come back for one from a different litter, that's all." 

"Well, maybe. I usually charge $500, but if you could do $700, I guess I could sell ‘im. He's the last one, so it'd be good to get him into a place right away, since the rest are already off my hands... –OK, you got yourself a deal.”

“—Remember, he's still on a bottle, so you gotta get kitten formula for him...."

Well, that's how I remember it, though I'm not sure about the dollar amounts. This was back in 1990-91 or so.

Thus began my adventure with Kaj. 

He grew fast and destroyed everything. He soon got his own room to stay in while I slept or left the house. I tore out the carpet, put in a bed, toys, a LARGE litter box, and toys, toys, toys. His favorite toy was always an empty two litre soda bottle. It would bounce and careen unpredictably off the floor, walls, and ceiling, allowing him to pounce on and capture "prey" from all directions.

Later, my very handy boyfriend built a lovely, large, and sturdy outdoor enclosure and raised the height of the fence so we could have him out in the yard when we were supervising him.

Ultimately, it was his natural tendency to "scream" that first hinted we would not be able to keep him, at least without a major move to the country. I always knew he would need something more, but it was not easy to find anything suitable, and I loved him and was happy to put off finding him a different home. 

Of course, by the time he was full-grown he was so big and strong, and his instincts for hunting so apparent, that it would have been irresponsible to continue keeping him with us. I was able to raise him on a proper zoo diet (not just raw chicken legs, as people often do), and ensure that he was not de-clawed, so he developed good, strong, pain-free feet. I familiarized him with being handled (there was no access to a release program anyway).

Then I found him a proper home.

That made me happy.

Sheena