She understood the appeal. She had been the person who brought a full-grown male lion into her family’s California home because she believed — based on the specific logic of a film project and the specific advice of a trainer — that sustained human proximity to large cats produced knowledge that was valuable. She had lived inside the rationale that drives private big cat ownership, and she had arrived at the conclusion, through the experience of the Roar production and its aftermath, that the rationale was insufficient justification for the risk.
The cub petting industry operates by making the size of the animal appear to change the nature of the risk. A lion cub that weighs five pounds feels manageable; the business of allowing people to pay for the experience of holding and photographing a big cat cub is built on the felt difference between the cub and the adult. But the cub becomes the adult, and the adult is a large predator, and the people who paid to hold the cub are not equipped to manage the adult. The cubs that grow into adults that cannot be managed are the animals that cycle through private ownership arrangements, surrender to sanctuaries, escape into neighborhoods, or are euthanized when no other option is available.
Hedren’s advocacy addressed this cycle directly. She testified before Congress. She gave interviews. She connected the specific experience of the Shambala Preserve — the animals it received, their origins, their situations — to the policy argument for restricting private ownership. She had, in her own words, lived in the position of the private owner, and she could describe from that position what it actually costs.