So What if a Few Animals Escape From This Backyard Zoo?

Lambertville — As a boy, I would sit on a small hill on a few acres of woodland with my back against a tree and a 20-gauge across my thighs from November 15 to 30.

I would be daydreaming while staring at the spaces between the trees and jump upon seeing a doe in the distance. She would pace back and forth. I would pull my gun. But she kept pacing like she was in a cage.

That’s because she was.

I always saw the Indian Creek Zoo’s creatures through our woods, since it butted up to our property. Sometimes fallow deer, antelope, or wolves would appear, and I would be tempted to take a crack.

The Indian Creek Zoo was weird. It’s the only attraction in Bedford Township. And it isn’t your typical petting zoo with a large property. It was in a guy’s backyard.

It started with camels. Joe Garverick bought his first camel from a friend in 2011. He kept buying more and started selling the camels’ milk, which he says has all of the nutrients necessary to sustain life.

But the camels he had in 2012 were only part of the 150 animals he had acquired up to that point. Garverick has always been a collector of animals. Back then, it was called the Indian Creek Camel Farm and was only open a few Saturdays for the public and often used for fundraising events for schools.

Garverick is an entrepreneur, to say the least. He has made money in his construction company and The Legacy Golf Course off US-223. The zoo has been his hobby, and the rumor is it doesn’t necessarily make a ton of money, since it is a nonprofit.

It’s been good for Monroe County and Toledo. He can’t compete with the award-winning Toledo Zoo, so he works with them by selling and donating animals born on his property.

Five days before opening day, I took my boys to peruse. It had been at least three years since I had stepped foot on Garverick’s grounds, and the last time was during a Christmas event where most of the animals were sleeping.

There are Macaws that talk back to you, an ostrich that looks you in the eye, and wallabies that eat out of your hand and box with one another. The zoo is much more established than it was in my youth.

There is a concrete walkway all around the property with enough animals to keep you busy for an afternoon.

For years, the zoo had peace. Then came People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) which cannot stand watching families have fun. From 2020-2022, PETA and the USDA went after Garverick.

The feds issued a $13,500 fine for violating the Animal Welfare Act. The charges were because of a baboon bit an employee and an African porcupine escaped.

PETA is insatiable. In December 2024, a dozen fallow deer escaped from the zoo. How did the deer escape? Someone cut the fence.

Garverick believed animal-rights activists let the creatures out, and my father’s deer cameras caught two trespassers in his woods the night it happened.

Online agitators blasted the zoo for neglecting the deer, saying they were sick and improperly fed. PETA’s offices are located in the ivory towers of D.C., Los Angeles, and Norfolk, Virginia, and it’s unlikely they sent anyone out to southern Michigan. But their online attacks must have likely riled up someone, and their actions ironically placed the animals at the mercy of muzzleloaders and automobiles.

The past two years have been much quieter. And the zoo is doing well with security cameras everywhere to monitor escapees. Times have changed. Once, while in the treestand, my father saw a kangaroo skipping by him. Another time, an alligator escaped—thankfully not onto our property.

But the critics need to relax. The zoo isn’t going anywhere. At my recent visit, it seemed to be under expansion. I’ve heard and witnessed most of the zoo's jailbreaks and would know, because the escaped “prisoners” come bounding through my parents’ yard.

What the critics don’t understand is the difficulty of having skin in the game. Owning and operating a zoo where the fruit of your labor is giving families in your community a good time takes a lot of work.

The Indian Creek Zoo is Bedford’s community gem. Garverick is making little to no money from the time he’s putting into his backyard wonderland.

Before the zoo looked as professional as it does today, it still had lots of visitors. In preparation for opening day of 2015, I spent three days of that spring break working for Garverick.

I and some other boys cleaned pens and lay down fresh hay. But the best part was getting to see animals while we worked. There was no one else there but us.

I remember walking up to the black-tailed prairie dog exhibit, which today is no longer there. I wanted to see the little things dance around and dive into their burrows.

As I approached, I noticed holes scattered around the outside of the exhibit’s wire mesh.

I’m sad to say they haven’t appeared in my yard, as of yet.