Aardvark Animal Asylum

08/17/2026

It’s refreshing to see others who share the perspective that, in spite of our efforts to convince ourselves otherwise, we are not separate from the world around us. Aardvark has sought to demonstrate that from the moment of its conceptual birth.

Simon Pegg has some thoughts about humanity—and they’re not exactly optimistic. 🌎👀

The British actor and comedian recently said he thinks “maybe humans were a mistake,” pointing to the ways people have disrupted the planet and failed to live in harmony with their surroundings.

During an appearance on the Great Company podcast, Pegg questioned whether human intelligence is really as important as we think it is, arguing that our ability to build and create can ultimately be self-serving. He contrasted that with animals, which he says can exist as part of a larger ecosystem without actively disrupting it.

Pegg also speculated about intelligent life elsewhere in the universe, suggesting that humans may be far less special—and far less harmonious—than we like to believe.

08/12/2026

I noticed just a little while ago that considerably more folks than usual have visited Aardvark’s page. I’m not sure exactly what brought you to us, but thank you for taking a few minutes to poke around and understand a bit more about what we are building.

Thank you for your interest. We will keep sharing the work as it develops!

08/10/2026

I’ve been working on an elevator pitch for Aardvark for a while now, and I’ve discovered that explaining this organization succinctly is surprisingly difficult.

Calling it an animal sanctuary is accurate, but woefully incomplete.

Similarly, referring to it as a conservation organization captures another important part of the vision, while leaving much of the rest untouched.

I could add habitat restoration, regenerative agriculture, renewable energy, veterinary care and rehabilitation, education, research, human support, responsible employment practices, and rigorous institutional governance, but eventually I’d no longer be giving an elevator pitch. I’d be trapping some poor unsuspecting person in an elevator while I recite a list.

The problem, as I’ve come to see it, is that the list doesn’t really explain Aardvark anyway.

The premise underlying Aardvark has always been that these things are interconnected.

We tend to organize problems into separate categories because that makes them easier to comprehend and administer. Animal welfare belongs here. Conservation goes there. Human health somewhere else entirely. Food, housing, employment, social responsibility, philanthropy, governance, public health, land management—all assigned their respective lanes.

Nature is considerably less accommodating.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., writing about the interdependence of people and communities in Letter from Birmingham Jail, gave us language whose gravity resonates far beyond its original context: “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

Animals are surrendered or abandoned for reasons that frequently begin with human circumstances. Ecological degradation affects the health and resilience of animals and people alike. People entrusted with caring for others eventually burn out when the systems surrounding them fail to care adequately for them. Institutions lose public trust when their practices fail to live up to their stated values.

Pull on one thread and, before long, you’re holding several others.

That interconnectedness is why the work we’ve been doing before acquiring land has become so extensive. Aardvark now has its 501(c)(3) public charity status, and an enormous amount of work has gone into developing the governance, financial, operational, ecological, animal-care, safety, emergency-response, and institutional frameworks that will eventually have to function together.

That work has given rise to a litany of questions—many of which I anticipated, and quite a few I did not.

How does one build an institution capable of caring for animals throughout their lives while also ensuring that the people doing that work can build sustainable lives of their own?

How could we restore and protect a large landscape while allowing agriculture, energy production, animal care, research, education, and human activity to coexist responsibly on it?

What governance architecture will allow Aardvark to attract substantial resources while ensuring that money never becomes more powerful than the mission it was given to serve?

What mechanisms must we create to preserve the principles driving thousands of decisions so that, decades from now, someone who never knew the founder can understand why those decisions were made?

Finding durable answers to these questions is essential if Aardvark is to become the living system I envisioned. Animal health, ecological health, human well-being, and institutional integrity have to reinforce one another if the whole is going to remain healthy.

The more thoroughly we develop the architecture, the more apparent the scale of the undertaking becomes.

It is going to require a tremendous amount of money.

It is going to require expertise I don’t possess and experience I’ve not yet acquired.

It will call for scientists, veterinarians, ecologists, land managers, farmers, builders, educators, attorneys, accountants, board members, donors, volunteers, employees, neighbors, and people whose necessary contributions haven’t even occurred to me.

It will need many people pulling in the same direction.

That realization is humbling. It also makes the work we’re doing now feel all the more consequential. If I’m eventually going to ask that many people to entrust some combination of their time, expertise, labor, money, and belief to this undertaking, I have an obligation to make certain there is something substantive and worthy of that trust waiting for them.

Perhaps that’s why I’ve had such difficulty writing an elevator pitch.

Aardvark was never intended to fit neatly into an elevator.

07/31/2026

I’ve been reconsidering how I’ve presented Aardvark Animal Asylum on this page.

When I first created it, I described the vision far too narrowly. In my haste to gain visibility and support, I ceded authorship to AI, allowing it to dominate Aardvark’s public voice through generated copy and imagery shaped largely around emotional appeal.

That’s been quietly gnawing at me.

The posts had polish, and the sentiments were sincere, but the overall voice felt hollow and effectively interchangeable with much of the homogeneous, AI-driven marketing now ubiquitous on social media. They didn’t adequately represent the scope of the vision, the depth of the work behind it, or the standards of integrity I want Aardvark to embody.

I own that mistake.

If Aardvark is to become the kind of institution I believe it can be, its public voice must reflect the same principles that guide everything else: honesty, intellectual rigor, accountability, and a willingness to openly acknowledge when something falls short of those standards.

Over the past few months (and especially the past several weeks) I’ve come to appreciate the true scale of what this undertaking requires. Building Aardvark will take a great deal of money, many people pulling in the same direction, expertise across countless disciplines, years of sustained effort, and an unwavering commitment to getting the foundation right.

That kind of trust can’t be bought with polished marketing or “emotionally optimized” messaging. It’s earned by consistently demonstrating integrity, accountability, and transparency.

So, this page is going to change.

I considered removing many of the earlier posts; however, that felt both disingenuous and contradictory, like sanitizing the record while espousing virtue. I’d much rather honor the real work of building an institution: its progress, its challenges, its questions, and its discoveries. I feel good inviting you to join me on that journey.

Thank you to everyone who has followed along so far. I hope you’ll continue to follow the work as it unfolds.

Accountability has to begin somewhere.

For Aardvark, it begins with me.

07/04/2026

Over the last several days, there haven’t been any groundbreaking announcements, dramatic photographs, or ribbon-cutting moments.

Instead, we’ve been doing something that may be even more important.

We’ve been building the framework that will allow Aardvark Animal Asylum to endure—not just as a refuge for animals, but as a broader model for how people, ecosystems, and ethical stewardship can coexist and thrive.

Over the past week alone, we’ve drafted or substantially advanced our bylaws, committee charters, Board Member Manual, Executive Stewardship Manual, financial governance framework, conflict of interest policy, records access and transparency policy, document retention policy, whistleblower policy, ethics and fiduciary conduct policy, and strategic planning framework.

None of those documents rescues a single animal today.

But every one of them helps ensure that the organization capable of rescuing thousands of animals tomorrow—and contributing meaningfully to environmental restoration and responsible land stewardship—is built on a foundation of transparency, accountability, good stewardship, and thoughtful governance.

I’ll admit something that has been on my mind lately.

Sometimes this process feels painfully slow.

When your heart is already standing in a future sanctuary—hearing birds, watching horses graze, seeing frightened animals finally feel safe—it can be frustrating to spend hours debating governance language, board responsibilities, financial controls, and organizational structure.

But that’s exactly why this work matters.

The mission deserves more than passion. It deserves an institution worthy of public trust.

Every policy we complete, every governance document we refine, every difficult question we answer now is one less weakness that could threaten the mission years from today.

Aardvark has never been envisioned as simply an animal sanctuary. It is intended to become a model of ecological stewardship: a place where habitat restoration, conservation, regenerative systems, responsible governance, and compassionate care strengthen one another into something larger than the sum of their parts.

That kind of organization cannot be built on inspiration alone.

It has to be built deliberately.

So while progress may not always be obvious from the outside, I wanted to share that meaningful progress is happening every single day.

One carefully considered decision at a time.

One page at a time.

One step closer to creating a sanctuary for the wild, the wounded, and the willing—and for the broader systems that sustain them.

Thank you to everyone who continues to follow this journey, encourage the work, and quietly believe alongside us.

We’re still laying the foundation.

And I’m more convinced than ever that it’s worth building well.

06/26/2026

It’s been a few weeks since the last update; however, Aardvark has been anything but idle.

I’ve spent much of that time refining the project’s foundation: continuing research, developing public-facing materials, conducting targeted outreach, and having thoughtful conversations with experienced leaders in animal welfare and conservation. One such discussion emphasized the necessity of independent oversight to bolster accountability to the mission and the public.

I’ve also been encouraged by a warm handwritten reply from a Bay Area leader I recently contacted. While I’d rather keep those conversations private, it’s been heartening to find people willing to thoughtfully engage with the vision.

Most of this work happens quietly, long before there’s land, buildings, or animals to share. But it’s the work that lays the foundation for everything that follows.

Thank you for continuing to follow the journey.

05/14/2026

Finally received our EIN. There’s no shortage of work to be done, but that was a wonderful bit of news to receive yesterday.

05/11/2026

A small Aardvark update.

My conviction about this project has not faltered. If anything, Aardvark dug in its heels and sank its teeth in and simply would not countenance me losing sight of it, in spite of the demanding personal season.

What has evolved recently is the architecture around it.

The vision is more mature. The strategy is sharper. Outreach is now underway in earnest, with a clearer path forming through local congregations, values-aligned conversations, advisory outreach, and the kind of community credibility this project will need in order to grow correctly.

We do not yet know every detail. But the trajectory is no longer abstract, which is itself invigorating.

I’m also learning to describe Aardvark more simply: as a sanctuary built like an ecosystem.


This is an intentional space in which
animals are given safety, dignity, space, and autonomy.

Damaged land is provided time, structure, and care enough to heal.

The people here are doing important, soul-satisfying work & are supported by the systems they help shepherd, rather than consumed by them.

At the heart remains the same commitment:

Sanctuary first. Science in service of care.

There is still a long road ahead. But the way is clearer now, and the next stretch is already underfoot. What comes next will require discipline, alignment, trust, and enough support to keep building responsibly.

Aardvark Animal Asylum
A sanctuary for the wild, the wounded, and the willing.

05/08/2026

💔 Hard Truth
Some animals arrive having never known consistent kindness.
For them, human touch can feel unfamiliar at first. Patience becomes the bridge between fear and trust.

05/08/2026

The Capacity to Heal
❤️ Heartwarming Fact
Animals can recover emotionally even after hardship.
With time and kindness, many animals rediscover curiosity, affection, and joy. Healing doesn’t erase the past — it shows how resilient they truly are.