#VSS Never Use a Hose on a Lion

I was once a zookeeper and one of the most memorable days in that role by far, was the day we moved our lioness into her new enclosure.

The Plan: Get the transport box into the inside enclosure and up against the hatch door to the outside enclosure. Someone would then lift the hatch door, we could then lift the hatch on the transport crate and she should just run out. We could then close the doors behind her, remove the box and make a safe exit, before securing everything and giving the lioness access back inside.

The best laid plans never go as expected.

The old lioness and her wooden transport crate were so heavy, that it took almost every zookeeper working that day to lift the box. With us all crammed onto each side and with barely any room to move, we shuffled our way from the tractor into the enclosure in a fashion reminiscent of Terry Pratchett's 'Luggage'.

The lioness was not happy about her containment and after setting the transport crate down, she began to move around inside, making her complaints loudly known. After a few minutes to catch our breath—and after raising some concern that the lioness was now facing the wrong way—we slid the box up to the hatch as close as possible, pinned all our weight onto it and opened the hatches...

...And we continued to pin the box down—with all our strength—as the lioness shifted about while complaining, refusing to exit the crate. With each second that went by our strength depleted, like water through a sieve, the crate shifting further and further from its original position every time she moved.

This mardy lioness had no intention of leaving, she was still facing the wrong way, and was far more concerned about ‘telling us off’ than exploring her new enclosure. Our strength was rapidly depleting at this point and we were starting to get concerned. Then, my boss—in his infinite wisdom—decided to try and use water from the hose to scare her out—the idea being that cats don’t like water and she would run out, in an attempt to get away from it.

It did not go well.

She was now wet, even more irritated with us and all her frantic movement at being soaked had shifted the crate far too far from the barriers for comfort! She could get a paw round her crate by this point and if she had of noticed that, there would have been no stopping her escape from the crate and into the enclosure that we were all in.

The seriousness of the situation struck us all. We quickly devised an emergency escape plan but it wasn't a plan any of us were keen on—"on the count of three", we were all to run for the door and hope we all made it out before the very angry, wet lioness realized. When my boss suddenly shouted, “Wait there a second!” and disappeared out the door.

Microseconds later, his courageous spectacled face appeared in the pop-hole in front of me, peering into the crate, as he called the lionesses name. With a huge roar, she spun round, shot out after him and the hatch immediately slammed shut behind her.

Time seemed to stretch and slow down, everything felt surreal. For a few seconds, there was complete silence as our brains struggled to process what was happening—it felt much longer than it was. You could cut the air with a knife there was so much anxiety and tension.

We all shot out of the enclosure as soon as our brains "came too" and ran to the other side—afraid of what we were going to find. As it turns out, my boss and the two remaining keepers had managed to form a human chain. They rolled my boss out into the enclosure and back in again, just quick enough to keep him out of harms way. A reckless move, but his quick thinking and bravery prevented the worst from occurring!

Even thinking about it now, the adrenaline from that moment rushes through me, it was elating when we realized everyone was safe, but how close it got to being a different story is less than a cat’s whisker!

In that moment, I had never felt more alive. And we now know for certain—never use a hose on a lion.