There was some French woman said the more she knew of men the more she liked dogs but with her it was tigers. You know where you stand with a tiger. Nowhere. You know what to expect from a tiger. Anything. You know there's something there that can never be broken down. Never really tamed. And no one in the world could look at a tiger without catching breath at such beauty. She knew that the relationship she had with any of the tigers she had worked with was like a thread of spider silk. Stronger and more flexible than might be thought, but always less than a hair's breadth from breaking.
It was the lion Tammy who took her right leg and she didn't really blame her. She had been on parade in a lion cage with Tammy and Lena and Prince - all good lions with solid reputations. Your average lion was more dependable than any tiger. She would never have ridden in a cage with a tiger except a stuffed one. And all was fine that day in Shamrock Texas until a butcher's wagon trying to cross through the circus parade got caught up with the lion wagon. All three lions went mad at the smell of frightened horse and raw meat. They flung themselves at the bars of the cage until they realized there was no access to the fresh meat out there, so they turned on her instead and there was nothing she could do but fight them and that was a losing game. The rescuers dropped her twice getting her out of the cage and no one thought she had a chance. She looked like a discard from the butcher's wagon, but she came out of it with a few hundred stitches about her body and her right leg gone below the knee.
And in some ways that was good luck. She had to think three times as much now before she worked with her tigers. Had to plan and analyse every situation. Had to develop intuition, a sense for the state of mind of each animal. And the wooden leg which she left exposed added interest to the sensation seekers.
They wanted blood, of course, but that was not her problem.
In the end it might have been cold rain that did her in. The circus was in Canada at the end of the season and the rain had not ceased in two weeks and the cold robbed comfort from the tigers' lives. She sensed their irritability, but each day she handled it and each day the act went off quite well. Then the train was stopped by trouble down the line. It seemed her tigers were not fed or watered before the show at Lethridge. Money had been lost by the delay. The show must go on. The tent was buffeted by wind and rain and the cold was intensifying in the night. It was Rajah who caused the trouble though the others were happy to join him. He would not take his place, and while she struggled with him the others began to get off their seats and mill about. Her big mistake was to turn her back on Rajah and in a minute he had her down. Her one leg slashed to the bone. A couple of pokes with her whip and he dropped her and slunk toward the chute. She got to her foot determined to finish the act. She had the other tigers on their stools at last. She could feel the blood hot and fast filling her boot. Just then Rajah turned in the chute door and launched himself at her. It happened so quickly that half the audience missed it. Rajah crouched beside her preparing for a feast and Princess jumped from her stool to challenge him for the meal. On their stools the other tigers stirred and shifted. Rajah had his teeth in her left shoulder. Princess pulled angrily at her leg A tug-of-war was taking place. Her right arm was crushed under her, but the mud would be her salvation. She was able to grasp her revolver and pull it out from under her. She fired into Rajah's mouth. They saved her then, but not her one leg.
It was not her legs she mourned. It was Rajah. She stayed with the circus a few years, paying her way as nurse, baby sitter and advisor. Every young ruffian who joined the circus got her lecture. Caged creatures must be fed and watered no matter what. No matter the inconvenience. No matter what the danger.
Caged creatures must be fed.