What is "The Preserve?"

As most of our friends know, we are both animal people. We are domestic and wild animal people. What this means is that we are not stereotypical animal rights activists. We are also realists. We do hunt, and we do fish. We are also respectful towards animals. When we do hunt or fish, we do so for what the animal can provide to us: hide, meat, and bone. No part of the animal is ever wasted or disrespected in any way. We do not hunt for sport. The only time we may end a wild animal's life without using 100% of it is if the animal is clearly ill and suffering.

When we leased our farm in North Georgia, we had several animals that called the farm their home: white tail deer, foxes, groundhogs, squirrels, chipmunks, red-shouldered hawks, grey rat snake, black racer, and even an occasional black bear. It was "our" Wonderland. Well, the groundhog wasn't really part of our Wonderland due to his tunnel systems that my ankle would find, but he stayed. We watched as a mother fox and her kits called our farm "home." Even our hard-core farming friends stopped to take pictures of her as she'd make her way through our fields.

One particular November morning, I remember seeing a doe in our field with a broken shoulder or injured shoulder of some sort. She had been shot. She was grazing in our pasture, but she wouldn't put any weight on her left front. We, at the time, had no way of ending her pain. I called everyone I knew in the area who could come end her life, to no avail. I was incredibly upset as was my husband, but we saw a glimmer of hope when she jumped our fence and ambled up into the woods. We said a silent prayer that she would survive or that whomever had shot her could track her and finish her. It's a sad though, but I'd rather have an animal's suffering ended than prolong it. An animal that is wounded to the point of changing its mechanics normally cannot fend for themselves by fleeing from predators or traveling the distance it needs to in order to forage or find water.

The next Spring, we saw her. She not only had survived the particularly brutal winter we had that year (2011,) but she was of good weight, good, shiny coat, and she was leaping over the fence and grazing in our field just fine even though she still favored her left front. She moved along our pasture, happily nibbling the grass. She continued to flourish up until we moved in November 2012. We also watched as a doe cared for three fawns the previous year: one doe and two bucks. The following year we had two mature bucks that would graze with our horses.

We managed our (formerly-dilapidated and abused) farm as a wildlife refuge and a small working hobby farm. We knew that there could be a symbiosis of sorts between the two worlds. We didn't have chickens, but we had ducks. We ensured the ducks had a safe pen to return to in the evening. It was protected on all sides, top, and bottom. We made sure the holes surrounding the pen were covered in smaller wire weave to prevent raccoon paws from being able to reach into the pen. The girls were happy, and we didn't have any predator issues. We kept the grey rat snake and black racer around the farm (with some easy coaxing to my husband not to kill them since he is not fond of snakes,) and the black racer rewarded us when "she" pulled a copperhead into her hiding place that she had killed for us. Had I known how rare it was to see such an event, I would have snapped a photo. ("Sally" was the black racer's given name.)

We started out with one red-shouldered hawk on the property. Their calls are unique in that they often sound like seagulls. Considering we were five hours from the coastline, the possibility of the sound coming from a seagull was rather low. It wasn't until I had talked to a local bird rehabilitator that we identified the hawks. The following year, we had FIVE on the property. We never saw a mouse or rat after that.

We knew the two worlds didn't have to collide. They could sort of intermingle with one another like an awkward dance between two wallflowers.

When we started creating our goals, we knew we wanted a life in the future that had the same intermingling between the two worlds of domestic animals and wild animals: a place where wildlife could see our property as a refuge while coexisting with our domestic animals. We keep an eye on diseases that can be transmitted between wild animals and domestic animals, and we also know how to keep our domestic animals safe from wild animals. That is why we decided the name of our future property wouldn't be a "farm" or a "ranch;" it would be "The Preserve." "The Preserve" is the shortened form as the formal name will be given once we establish ourselves and use our land to name itself..."The Preserve at Lake Lure," "The Preserve at Black Mountain," "The Preserve at Rushing Creek." You get the idea. "The Preserve" will be a Wonderland between two worlds while also offering therapeutic services to people and animals.