Romola

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Information

  • Years:
  • 25
  • Where am I from:
  • Romanian
  • Tone of my iris:
  • I’ve got huge brown eyes but I use colored contact lenses
  • Zodiac sign:
  • I'm Sagittarius
  • In my spare time I love:
  • In my spare time I love painting
  • Smoker:
  • No

About

We are delighted to now be back running a reduced outdoor learning service within schools across West Lothian, working with Key worker and vulnerable children. If you would to find out how we can help in your school, please fill out this questionnaireand someone will be in touch. Alternatively, get in touch with us at info kidsgonewild.

Description

J oe Exotic was done.

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For the two decades, year-old Joe had been the heart, soul, and ubiquitous public face of a massive private zoo in Wynnewood, Oklahoma, an hour north of the Texas line. He had boasted of owning the largest tiger collection in America. His sixteen-acre park was lined with metal cages, each filled with majestic tigers, lions, bears, alligators, and even tiger-lion hybrids called tiligers. His sun-leathered visage, horseshoe mustache, and blond mullet adorned gonewild work all over the zoo and all along I between Dallas and Oklahoma City.

He had for years both worked and lived on the property. But by Augusthis kingdom had all but turned to dust.

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Joe had gonewild work issues with Lowe, but he blamed his troubles mostly on someone else: Carole Baskin, the owner of a big-cat sanctuary in Tampa, Florida. To those outside the exotic animal industry, Baskin and Joe appeared to operate similar facilities. Today there are more tigers in captivity than in the wild, and breeding remains a major point of contention between conservationists and private zoo owners like Joe. He became consumed with revenge and repeatedly vowed to bring Baskin down. But he had failed to do so, after years of trying, and lost everything in the process.

Now all he wanted was to shed his identity and leave behind the swollen persona that had become the most recognizable—and controversial—the exotic animal industry had ever seen. So, along with his then year-old husband and four dogs, he had split for Florida. They ended up at a Motel 6 in Pensacola, and soon discovered a bedroom community named Gulf Breeze. The sand was white, the water clear. He had found his new home. On the morning of September 7,81 days after Joe had left the zoo, he went to a local hospital to apply for a third gonewild work.

It was a sunny Florida day—there was dew on the grass; the temperature was just right.

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Suddenly, four unmarked cars skidded to a stop around him. In a flash he was surrounded by plainclothes law enforcement officers. Get on the ground! He dropped and felt a knee drive into his back. He was cuffed and taken to the federal courthouse for an arraignment hearing.

Joe learned that he was being accused of attempting to hire two hit men to kill Carole Baskin. Suddenly he was famous again, his mulleted mug all over the national news. The story of how it had come to gonewild work would strain even the darkest imagination. Though his parents had come from wealthy farming families, they did not pamper their children, and Joe always felt that he and his four siblings were born to work as farmhands.

It was not an affectionate household. His father, a Korean War vet, moved the family from Kansas when Joe was fourteen. First they went to Wyoming, where the property they owned seemed to Joe like an entire mountainside. Then they moved to Pilot Point, Texas, north of Dallas, where they lived in an eight-bedroom house on a large ranch.

Joe was not close with his siblings, except for his older brother, Garold. Joe and Garold shared a deep love of animals. Joe participated in Future Farmers of America and often brought home raccoons, ferrets, and other creatures to care for.

He and Garold liked to watch nature shows on TV, and Garold confided in Joe that he hoped one day to live in the wild in Africa so he could see the beautiful beasts there running free. When Joe graduated from high school, inhe became a police officer in nearby Eastvale. At age nineteen, he was promoted to chief of police. It was a small department. Only a few officers worked under him, and serious crimes were rare.

Gonewild work felt accepted by his colleagues, but he was only beginning to come to terms with his sexuality.

Joe was devastated. One day not long after, he was approaching a bridge in his police cruiser and decided he wanted to die.

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He veered into a concrete barrier, nearly plummeting over the edge of the bridge. He survived, but he was severely injured. He moved to West Palm Beach, Florida, and underwent months of difficult physical therapy. There, he lived with a boyfriend and got a job working at a pet store.

Joe was hooked. He moved back to Texas and began his career in the exotic gonewild work industry. For the first few years they sold reptiles, birds, and small fish. Joe and Garold were both clever about finding ways to make money. Garold would dumpster dive behind furniture and carpet stores and turn the trash into cat playgrounds and doghouses, which he would sell.

They used the money to expand their store, buying bigger cages for small exotic pets, like three-banded armadillos and four-eyed opossums.

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But then, in Octoberdisaster struck. Garold was hit by a drunk driver outside Dallas. He died within a week. Joe needed a change. The pet store was not the same without Garold, so Joe decided to sell it. Joe poured cement for sidewalks and built a row of nine cages. Word spread quickly that Joe had opened an animal sanctuary, and people began dropping off exotic animals that they no longer wanted.

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Then came a mountain lion. Then a bear. In Joe got a call from a game warden telling him that someone had abandoned two tigers in a backyard near Ardmore. Joe brought them back to the animal park. They were his very first tigers.

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He named them Tess and Tickles. They bred, and Joe raised their cubs. The beautiful beasts were hardly running free, but here they were up close. Garold would have loved it, Joe thought. Trouble started early. Inwhen the park was still under construction, Joe agreed to transport a flock of emaciated emus that had been rescued from a large pen in Red Oak, just south of Dallas.

Some of the emus escaped while he was loading them up and headed for the freeway. Joe shot at least six of them, and they flailed around like chickens that had just been beheaded before they died. Local law enforcement and the SPCA blasted Joe for his recklessness, but a grand jury declined to indict him on animal cruelty charges. Tragedy struck again in Decemberwhen Rhyne passed away from a deadly infection. His funeral was gonewild work at the zoo. Within a year, Joe had a new lover and life partner, a year-old named J.

Soon Joe needed more employees to help run the zoo and the road show.

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In the summer ofhe hired a nineteen-year-old named John Finlay. He moved in with Joe, and within a month they were in a relationship. Hartpence wanted to see it become a rehab-and-release sanctuary, with large enclosures where the animals had room to roam. Joe, on the other hand, was increasingly buying new animals from breeders and breeding animals of his own for profit.

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In mid, Hartpence walked into the office and found a piece of paper on his desk. One night, Hartpence waited until Joe fell asleep, then pointed a loaded. Joe woke up to the click of the guns cocking. Hartpence was arrested at the zoo and never returned.

In July gonewild work, the Oklahoman published an article about a crippled lion cub named Angel that had been born at the zoo, a possible result of inbreeding. It was Carole Baskin. In the U. By then the little acre zoo had ballooned to hold more than one thousand animals for comparison, the Dallas Zoo sits on acres. There were more than a hundred tigers, plus lions, chimpanzees, leopards, baboons, alligators, and smaller reptiles. Alongside the growth of his nonprofit zoo, Joe expanded his for-profit ventures.

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Later, he opened a bar two miles down the road from the zoo called Safari Bar and then a pizza t named Zooters. He was building a brand. Raised in Florida, she had hoped to be a veterinarian someday. In she married Don Lewis, a wealthy real estate investor. The next year, Lewis bought her a bobcat named Windsong.

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