A hand-painted lion statue stands sentry behind the Bloomington Police Department Headquarters. An evidence tag rests on its tongue.
“We named him Leo,” BPD Capt. Steve Kellams said.
Police have no clue who the big cat belongs to.
The Leo saga began when a bicycle patrol officer was out around 3 a.m. Sunday and saw a group of college-aged men lugging the huge lion into the garage of a Smith Avenue house.
When questioned, the men told the officer they found Leo sitting on a curb in front of a house on West Kirkwood Avenue and assumed he was up for grabs.
Officers said they found the telltale remnants of a large party from the night before when they went to the Kirkwood address Sunday afternoon. When they asked the house’s owners what they knew about Leo, they said he’d been sitting on their porch since February.
One of the men told police he thought one of their friends found the lion on IU’s campus near Eigenmann Hall.
In a Facebook post, BPD called for the public to help them find Leo’s home.
“Leo the Lion was rescued from catnappers in Bloomington this weekend,” the post read. “When officers tried to return him home, they learned that Leo didn't belong there either!”
Commenters floated guesses of where the lion could’ve come from. Many suspect he was lifted from an elementary school or church a long time ago. Many wrote they’d seen him in various store windows around town. Others said he used to guard the old Putt Putt miniature golf course on Pete Ellis Drive.
A 20-foot-tall fiberglass giraffe and a 5-foot-long zebra from the mini-golf course were donated to North Central Church of Christ’s Noah’s Ark Preschool in 2008. Bloomington Putt Putt’s former owner could not immediately be reached for comment.
He could be passed off for an art installation — a symbol of courage, even — if his expression were a little more fearsome.
Some Facebook users wrote Leo looks like he’s smiling. One disagreed, saying he seems to be perpetually frozen in the moment just before a sneeze.
Wherever Leo came from, there are plenty of people willing to take him off of BPD’s hands.
Citizens have suggested donating him to a park, church or elementary school.
Jenn Brunette had a different take.
“Leo belongs to no man,” she wrote on Facebook.
For now, Leo watches over his enclosure behind BPD, caged in by tall fencing. He doesn’t have much room to roam, but he spends his days surrounded by greenery and doting cops.
