In the 1930s, on an RAF post way out in rural Africa, the station commander had a pet lion.
Lennie (as he was called) was elderly, arthritic, mostly blind, and had hardly a tooth left in his head, and everyone on the station knew him well.
One day, one of the Flight Lieutenants was going out for a spin and as he taxied his plane onto the airstrip, he saw with annoyance that Lennie was having a nap right in the middle of it. So after revving his engine a few times to no effect, the Flt Lt clambered crossly out of the cockpit, trotted up to Lennie and gave him the point of his shoe in a tender spot, which earned him a reproachful look from the sleepy lion; but the animal got up and slunk off into the long grass.
Returning from his flight, the youngster went up to the CO's office and said "Sir, I wish you'd control that lion of yours. I had to shoo him off the airstrip before I could take off today!"
And the CO said "What are you blethering on about? Lennie's been asleep under my desk all day."
