"Casino de Paris," at the Dunes Hotel was filled with exotic beauties, to be sure, but none more exotic or beautiful than Caesar. He was our lion. Kept in a huge cage backstage near the rear doors, he lounged lazily until his star entrance. Between shows, his handler attached a metal "leash" and took him out for a walk. Had Caesar taken a fancy to bounding out the door, he would've been unstoppable, his leash about as effective as a rubber band on a freight train. - "Whoa Caesar. I said stop!" Right.
The sight of Caesar lethargically plodding around made it easy to see him as a harmless pussycat but, as we discovered one night, there was a beast lurking within the beauty. One of the show's dressers sauntered in and stopped, as many were wont to do, to scratch Caesar on the nose through the bars of his cage. Almost nonchalantly, Caesar deftly chomped off the end of his finger.
I remember Eddie sitting calmly in our wardrobe area, surrounded by the various crew members who had rushed him back where there would be towels available and a place for him to sit down. As they waited for an ambulance to respond, they kept his hand wrapped and his face averted. Eddie was quite obviously in shock because I recall him saying that he'd be fine - just give him a bandaid. I know they had to amputate a little above the bite, but I don't recall if it was above the first or second knuckle.
I also don't recall anyone ever petting Caesar again.
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