O

22

ne spring morning, Barack and the girls and I were summoned downstairs
from the residence to the South Lawn. A man I’d never seen before stood
waiting for us in the driveway. He had a friendly face and a salt-and-pepper
mustache that gave him an air of dignity. He introduced himself as Lloyd.

“Mr. President, Mrs. Obama,” he said. “We thought you and the girls might
like a little change of pace, and so we’ve arranged a petting zoo for you.” He
smiled broadly at us. “Never before has a First Family participated in something
like this.”

The man gestured to his left and we looked. About thirty yards away,
lounging in the shade of the cedar trees, were four big, beautiful cats. There was a
lion, a tiger, a sleek black panther, and a slender, spotted cheetah. From where I
stood, I could see no fences or chains. There seemed to be nothing penning them
in. It all felt odd to me. Most certainly a change of pace.

“Thank you. This is so thoughtful,” I said, hoping I sounded gracious. “Am
I right—Lloyd, is it?—that there’s no fence or anything? Isn’t that a little
dangerous for kids?”

“Well, yes, of course, we thought about that,” Lloyd said. “We figured your
family would enjoy the animals more if they were roaming free, like they would
in the wild. So we’ve sedated them for your safety. They’re no harm to you.” He
gave a reassuring wave. “Go ahead, get closer. Enjoy!”

Barack and I took Malia’s and Sasha’s hands and made our way across the
still-dewy grass of the South Lawn. The animals were larger than I expected,
languid and sinewy, their tails flicking as they monitored our approach. I’d never
seen anything like it, four cats in a companionable line. The lion stirred slightly as