During the thirties and forties my grandfather ran a general store in what is now Northeast Columbia.  Back then it was called Dentsville.  Dent to those who lived there.  He also made and sold moonshine whiskey.  He once sold it to the wrong person but that's another story for another time.  As an attraction, he kept wild animals.  This was probably Columbia's first zoo.  There were all sorts of animals, monkeys, an alligator, birds, a bear and even a lion.  The bear was kept in a large cage in front of the store.
    Customers would buy soft drinks for him and carefully pass it through the bars. They would watch as he took the drink and downed it with one swallow.  He even had a den of wolves.  As least he called them wolves.  Some said that they were just mean looking dogs.  Granddad was known to stretch the truth now and then.  The lion didn't stay in a cage. He was Granddad's pet. He just laid on the floor in the store most of the time. Those were the days of the potbelly stove and pickle barrels.  I often think of the stories that were told around that stove as the lion listened.  I'm sure that those who saw the lion never forgot him and told of their experiences in that old store.
    When my dad was just a little boy, he and Granddad drove to Florida to buy the cub.  He raised the cub just as you would a puppy.  Wherever he went, the lion was sure to follow.  He and the lion were inseparable.  The lion even rode in the car with him.  When Grandma went with them she had to ride in the back seat.  The lion just wouldn't give up the passenger seat.  I'm surprised that Granddad didn't teach him to drive.
 

                                                                                         Carl