It's the pre-dawn hush of a California morning, and I've just stepped back inside after a starlit walk with my devoted dog, Blaze. In the chaparral of the Verdugo foothills, the dry brush crackles with the distant movements of wildlife, but it's quiet now as I pour my morning coffee. Suddenly, the motion light flicks on outside the north window. Peering through the blinds, what I expect to be a passing deer or coyote turns out to be the sleek form of a mountain lion. Startled, my coffee takes flight, landing on my clothes.

This surprise encounter with a wild puma feels a world away from the familiar streets of Minneapolis, where Blaze and I once walked. Fueled by the hope and possibility of living closer to my infant granddaughter, the move to mountain lion territory in the fall of 2020 followed the loss of the life I had known—the death of my two beloved cats, William and Anubis, and the decision to close my cherished dance/movement therapy practice. All of this happened amidst the unsettling backdrop of a world grappling with the COVID-19 pandemic and the reckoning of George Floyd's tragic death. As I reflect on my encounter with that giant, wild cat, I am reminded of another, more renowned mountain lion.

Today marks the first anniversary of the death of the famous mountain lion, P-22. Like many, I found myself enthralled by the news coverage of P-22. Furthermore, as someone who communicates with animals, I was fascinated by how this silent sentinel of the wild was able to transcend his status as a numbered research subject, capture the nation's imagination, and leave a legacy that has so much to teach humanity about our current condition.

Born around 2010, P-22 entered our national consciousness after surviving two daring freeway crossings. This feat earned him legendary status and dominion over the densely populated territory of Griffith Park. His fame soared with an iconic 2013 National Geographic photograph against the backdrop of the Hollywood sign.

Yet, fame did not shield P-22 from suffering. A resilient wild creature, he deftly navigated the challenges of urban life, avoiding humans and their pets, reigning over a fractured urban habitat that also imprisoned him. After many years in Griffith Park without incident, his behavior changed. 

He was captured after ingesting rat poison, he was treated for mange and malnourishment and released. After his recovery, he made headlines again in 2016 after he scaled a nine-foot fence at the Los Angeles Zoo and killed a lovable koala. In 2022, he attacked three dogs within weeks of each other, killing one and injuring its owner. After the last attack, instead of retreating to his domain, he sought refuge in a residential backyard where he was easily captured. I suspect that these attacks were a call for help.

A closer look by a medical team revealed that P-22 sustained severe injuries from a car collision, kidney disease, arthritis, and chronic weight loss. The unanimous recommendation was for compassionate euthanasia, and P-22 passed away on December 17, 2022.

The legacy of P-22 endures. In February 2023, thousands filled the Greek Theatre to memorialize the "King of Griffith Park." P-22 inspired the construction of The Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing within The Liberty Canyon Wildlife Corridor, which is set to be the world’s largest by 2025. In the twelve years on this earth, he maintained fierceness despite the confines of his urban territory.

P-22’s life became a metaphor, reflecting shared struggles and aspirations between the untamed wilderness and the intricate tapestry of human existence. His trials mirror our battles with adapting to change, negotiating societal boundaries, grappling with environmental shifts, and seeking recognition and connection. In the echoes of his suffering, P-22 implored us to be more aware; he taught us to respect his life, to acknowledge our interconnectedness and the impact of our choices.

After P-22's passing, the awe returned, reminiscent of the morning I saw the mountain lion out my window. On a dusty walk with Blaze along the mountain trail, I sensed P-22's spirit—an untamed force whispering about the wild beauty surrounding us, urging humans to embrace life's uncertainty. Stepping forward on this new path, my heart, still recovering from loss, opened with more ease, guided by the timeless wisdom of a mountain lion who once ruled the land.