The first time I met the lions I knew I was home. Looking into their golden-green eyes, I saw the beauty and nobility of my own simple soul. I knew the adult male would fight to the death to protect me, I had become a member of the pride.
In the mornings, I'd go around the compound saying hi to the various animals and check on their well-being.
At first Zeus gave me his shoulder to scratch. After a few weeks of that he'd lie down next to the fence so I could scratch his back and neck.
I slowly made my way through his mane, getting closer and closer to his ears and eyes (his survival gear), earning his trust.
Then one day I saw he had sleepy feathers in his eyes and I went to brush them away. Zeus snorted and snapped at my hand. It wasn't an aggressive snap, it was just letting me know he wasn't ready yet.
Some time went by and he began to let me rub his eyes.
After these trials of trust, in the mornings, Zeus would come out of his den and lie down in front of the fence; on his back, all fours askew in the air. He'd put his head up against the fence and I'd massage his forehead. After just a few minutes he'd fall soundly asleep.
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