I have met many animals in my life that I have been fond of. Several cats, a handful of dogs, even a fish or two have shared my space. Each has been unique and most were spectacular companions. From all of these one stands out in my mind.
The Jade Lion.
It was in Santa Fe at the home of a friend that I encountered this creature. He sat proudly atop an 18th century mahogany table, and made it look cheap. Carved from solid Jade, he was a soft glowing green, with a few minuscule veins of darker, emerald green running through his paws. With an aggressive stance, and a snarling mouth some may not have found him pleasant to look at, but I was mesmerized. Taking note of my reaction to
The Jade Lion, my friend encouraged me to "Pet Him."
Pet him?
Alright.
I reached out, expecting to lay hands on cold, hard rock.
Warmth.
What do you mean warmth? How can this be warm? It's 57 degrees in here.
(my friend is a fan of sweaters.)
But no, he was warm. And. . was that ( I must be nuts) a pulse?
He shifted softly beneath my fingers.
Then came the purring.
I could hear no other sound in the world. None but a soft hum from a solid throat.
'Come, sit with me.' Said The Lion
Somewhat sheepishly I climbed onto the table, and curled up next to him. As our minds spoke I petted him. With each pass my head felt lighter and my eyes saw less of the room, and more of The Lion. It was odd to be talking so freely to a lion with whom I was not well acquainted. But our conversation continued. Soon the words were no longer words. They became feelings.
Calm.
Quiet.
Peace.
I woke, much later, to the smell of hot Chai and cinnamon. Snuggled up on the table, one hand still on The Lion.
"He likes you." Remarked my friend.
The Jade Lion.
It was in Santa Fe at the home of a friend that I encountered this creature. He sat proudly atop an 18th century mahogany table, and made it look cheap. Carved from solid Jade, he was a soft glowing green, with a few minuscule veins of darker, emerald green running through his paws. With an aggressive stance, and a snarling mouth some may not have found him pleasant to look at, but I was mesmerized. Taking note of my reaction to
The Jade Lion, my friend encouraged me to "Pet Him."
Pet him?
Alright.
I reached out, expecting to lay hands on cold, hard rock.
Warmth.
What do you mean warmth? How can this be warm? It's 57 degrees in here.
(my friend is a fan of sweaters.)
But no, he was warm. And. . was that ( I must be nuts) a pulse?
He shifted softly beneath my fingers.
Then came the purring.
I could hear no other sound in the world. None but a soft hum from a solid throat.
'Come, sit with me.' Said The Lion
Somewhat sheepishly I climbed onto the table, and curled up next to him. As our minds spoke I petted him. With each pass my head felt lighter and my eyes saw less of the room, and more of The Lion. It was odd to be talking so freely to a lion with whom I was not well acquainted. But our conversation continued. Soon the words were no longer words. They became feelings.
Calm.
Quiet.
Peace.
I woke, much later, to the smell of hot Chai and cinnamon. Snuggled up on the table, one hand still on The Lion.
"He likes you." Remarked my friend.
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