Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

I was in a place where they were working on letting lions live in the same spaces as people. The technique involved giving the people some kind of throwable objects that, when they hit the ground in front of a lion, would pop! loudly and cause the lion to go away.

A lioness approached us, and the object-thrower got ready to fling one. I told the third person "He has a good throwing arm" (I knew, but our other companion didn't, that the thrower was a baseball player). The first popping thing landed in front of the lioness and went pop!, most properly. The lioness hesitated, then kept walking toward us.

My companion flung the rest of the objects, all of which failed to pop on landing. We humans headed, calmly (or pretending to be calm) in different directions. The lioness approached me. I held still. She sort of leaned against my flank for a few moments. I then hurried into an area where some animals were grazing (maybe zebras), and then climbed a tree because it seemed safer, though I worried a little about how I'd get down again.

While I was clinging to the tree, something stung my left hand, hard, then flew off. cattitude appeared at about this point, at the base of the tree, and urged me to stay up there. I did, for a little while, then came down and showed him my stung hand. There was a single mark, looking like a small puncture, and it hurt a little.

[This is as much as I remember: I'd forgotten it this morning until we were walking to the subway together.]