The lion was still sitting by the glass, hypnotizing the empty chair with his gaze. When I approached, he turned his head and looked at me with such sorrow that I froze. It was as if he understood everything, as if he felt that Margarita would never come again. I sat down in her chair, and Atlas slowly lay down, resting his head on his paws.
He was grieving, and his heavy breathing betrayed this deep, animalistic sorrow. A week later, a notary representing Margarita’s family came to us. He brought a will, drawn up shortly after her reunion with Atlas. She had arranged for her house to be sold, and the proceeds to be donated to the zoo.
There was one condition: the money had to go towards improving the life of Atlas and other predators. The director promised that every penny would be used honestly and for its intended purpose. I took personal responsibility for Atlas’s care. Every morning I would come to him, talk to him, bring him the best pieces of meat.
Atlas was depressed for a long time, but gradually, thanks to the care, he began to return to life. He still approached the glass where she used to sit, preserving her memory. With the funds from Margarita’s inheritance, we completely renovated the enclosure. We installed new platforms, shelters, and a cooling system for the hot Ukrainian summer.
Repairs were also made for the other cats, and new veterinary equipment was purchased. In the center of the enclosure, we installed a plaque with Margarita’s name and words of gratitude. A year has passed, Atlas remains a public favorite, articles are written about him, and stories are filmed. But for me, he is a living reminder of the power of love.
Margarita and Atlas proved to all of us that true devotion knows no boundaries between species. That gratitude can live in the heart of even a wild predator if it was once shown kindness. And as long as I work here, I will preserve this story.
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