Monkeys and penguins made him giggle, the elephants earned a pause, but King anchored their visits. Daniel often thought about how much of his son’s childhood was being measured in these Saturday mornings, in the way a boy’s fascination clung to a single lion.
Then came the day something changed. King wasn’t in his usual spot by the rock, basking in the sun as if it were his throne. Instead, he was in the far corner, pressed close to the wall. He didn’t pace, didn’t scan the crowd, didn’t even flick his tail. He barely moved at all.