Christian the Lion a Bond Rediscovered

The Unlikeliest of Purchases

London, 1969. The city was a kaleidoscope of fashion, music, and social experiment. And in the Exotic Animals department of Harrods, the world-famous department store, two young Australians, John Rendall and Anthony “Ace” Bourke, wandered in on a whim. They weren’t looking for anything in particular. But in a small cage, they found something impossible to ignore: a male lion cub, born just weeks earlier at a seaside zoo in Ilfracombe. The cub, energetic and charismatic even in confinement, looked at them, and in that moment, a decision was made that would alter the course of three lives. For 250 guineas, he was theirs. They named him Christian. Back at their flat on the King's Road in Chelsea, the reality of their purchase began to sink in. They lived above a furniture shop they managed, a place coincidentally named Sophistocat. This became Christian’s improbable kingdom. The basement was his, complete with a giant litter tray, but his domain often extended to the shop floor, where he showed a surprising respect for the antique furniture. This was Swinging London, a time and a place where the bizarre felt almost normal. Neighbors kept pumas; others had cheetahs. The Rolling Stones, who rehearsed nearby, would sometimes drop in to see the two Aussies and their lion. Christian was driven to parties in the back of a Mercedes convertible, a furry, four-pawed celebrity in a city full of them. He played with local children in the walled garden of a nearby church, a gentle giant who seemed blissfully unaware of his own nature.