About white lions in general and me especially

May 03, 2010 21:36

The other day as I lay sunbathing on my favourite place in the enclosure, I overheard the conversation of a couple which had come to see me. Only instead of admiring me they were arguing; she was accusing him. "You are always talking about yourself."

Human females are odd. I mean, what should a man talk about? About his lady? For that, he should be able to understand women - which is, in my humble opinion, rather impossible with human females ,as well as with ours. So what should he talk about then? His love life with the lady in question? That would be indiscrete (hence I won't tell here if one of my ladies is pregnant). A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. So the subject left to a man is talking about himself. I do it all the time - and why shouldn't I? I'm beautiful, I'm special and I have a lot of interesting things to talk about.

Because we don't know each other well, I'm going to start with something general. I am a lion, or, to express it in really posh and imposing terms: I am a member of the species Panthera Leo, belonging to the family of Felidae Pantherinae (big cats) in the biological order of Carnivora. Yet even within my species, I am something very special because I am a white lion, but - as you can see when looking at my blue eyes - not an albino. As such I would lack pigment, therefore I would have red eyes - which wouldn't suit me at all.

My white fur is based on something you humans nave named an "adaptive mutation" - an experiment of nature which always tries to improve its creatures' fitness for survival. However, in the case of the "white lions" experiment, a lot of scientists think that it was a flop because we can't survive in the wild. Our white fur handicaps us in matters of hunting, because our potential prey recognizes us too easily.

Nevertheless white lions aren't something totally new. In African caves, age old drawings were found which showed relatives of mine, and in the legends of the Masai ,white lions are mentioned. They even say that seeing a white lion brings luck (and it's true! Just ask my human how lucky he is in having me).

Based on that, I think that the scientists naming us a "flop" are wrong. The survival of the fittest as a basis of evolution demands that the fit find themselves a niche in which to survive . In that, we white lions are winners, because some of my ancestors were discovered in the wild by kind humans who brought them home, nursed them with the bottle, and didn't only look after them, but after their offspring, as well.

Since then, white lions have been bred under human care - and while most of my brown relatives live in the wild and must hunt for their meat, we white lions can spare ourselves from such tedious work. (A rather exhausting and tiresome task, if you ask me. Yet between you and me I can admit: clever lions don't hunt. They let their lionesses do the job.)

As far as I’m concerned I've gotten myself into the land of plenty with every luxury a lion could wish for. I am among the 37 white lions living all over the world and the only one who is at home in a circus. That means: My food - and of course I get the finest food available - gets served to me on a daily basis. When I feel unwell, a vet comes to look after me. My human cuddles, plays with me and cares for me. I am rarely bored because there are always a few people around to entertain me. I sleep warm and dry even if it's storming and raining outside.

But about my life, and how it happened that I went to live in a circus, I will tell another time. Now I must get myself groomed. A star lion like myself has some obligations towards his fans.

white lions

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