The Christmas that Turned into an Animal Wonderland

Well, my mother has done it again — blown my mind with another secret, day‑long experience. This time it wasn’t for my birthday, but for Christmas. And honestly? I think this one might even top the falconry birthday surprise. It was the perfect way to close out 2025.

As usual, she kept the whole thing a secret at my request. It’s simply more fun when I have no idea where we’re going. I’m pretty sure she struggled with the secrecy more than I did, though. Every now and then, she’d drop a tiny hint, just enough to let me know this wouldn’t be one single activity — it would be a whole collection of them.

And oh, it absolutely was. A string of incredible experiences wrapped together into one gloriously overstimulating, beautiful day.

All of it centered around a charming little place called Ocoee Riverside Farm.

First Impressions

Finding the place was both awesome and intimidating. On one hand, there’s a massive, gorgeous front gate with a buzz‑in team and a giant placard announcing the farm’s name. Then, right behind that gate and down a decently long, winding driveway sits the owner’s house — which, let’s be honest, is basically a miniature mansion. So, yeah... It was a little intimidating. Two enormous Great Pyrenees lounged on the front steps of said mansion, watching us drive by with the calm, judgmental authority only livestock guardian dogs possess.

And then there was a random chicken trotting confidently between them. I snorted. Of course there was.

Thankfully, the property is dotted with helpful signs pointing you in various directions — necessary, considering how absolutely enormous the grounds are. Most of it is open pasture, with pockets of garden‑like fields and several unique places to stay overnight. Because yes, in addition to offering a whole lineup of fancy, unusual animal encounters, the farm also doubles as an Airbnb. Naturally.

The sheer size of the place hits you immediately — equal parts awe and existential delight. But as a tried‑and‑true Greenpeace child, the land itself wasn’t what got my heart racing.

It was the animals. And wow, were there a lot of them!

Right from the start, as we found our way to the meeting spot for our first encounter, we were greeted by:

• Miniature Highland Cows - Who eagerly mooed at us and demanded attention.

• Horses - Many of them. Because of course.

• Goats - Because what farm doesn't have goats?

• Sheep - Only a few, but unbelievably woolly.

• Pigs - Specifically, two "miniature" ones.

• A freaking turkey - Giant, brown, and very proudly puffed up.

• Llamas AND Alpacas - In their own pasture. Did you know you can tell the difference because aplacas have mowhawks?!

• Zebras - We didn't get to interact with them, but still... Zebras.

• Kangaroos!

• Swans - Two different pairs.

• Ducks - Naturally.

• Geese - Beautifully brown and white... And extremely loud.

And that was just the welcome committee. We saw plenty more as the day went on. From the very beginning, my mom and I were buzzing with excitement and anticipation — and the day absolutely lived up to it.

Everything that followed that initial “holy cow, this place is incredible” moment is what I’m most excited to share. So let’s jump into the first experience, the one that really set the tone for the entire day.

The Sloth Encounter

To my utter shock, the very first experience Mom had planned for us was something that, as said, set the tone for the entire day — in more ways than one. And the way I found out what we were doing absolutely deserves to be retold.

Picture this: My mother and I are being led toward a giant barn, past pastures full of goats, sheep, cows, and horses. Mom is still guarding her secret like a dragon hoarding treasure… Until our guide cheerfully blurts out, “Are you guys ready for your unique Sloth Experience?!”

I froze. Mouth open. A squeak escaped me. My mother laughed and simultaneously died inside as her carefully orchestrated surprise was unceremoniously blown.

Now, a little-known fact: I adore sloths. I love a lot of animals, but sloths sit near the top. They are the most adorable, ridiculous creatures on the planet — no situational awareness, questionable survival instincts, and the movement speed of a snail. They survive on sheer dumb luck, and I love them for it.

I also have a deep emotional connection to them. One of my closest childhood friends — someone I’d known since I was two — absolutely adored sloths. We grew up together, inseparable, until I lost her a few years ago. That kind of loss never disappears; it just settles into a quiet ache that sneaks up on you. After she passed, sloths became “our” animal. Loving them feels like carrying a piece of her with me.

But, back to the barn.

(Flash and I - Feeding him some fruit and carrot slices.)

After some hilarious apologies and shared laughter over the ruined surprise, our guide led us inside — where I immediately noticed camels. They had camels in the barn. Two species, in fact. Ed, a young Bactrian camel with two humps, and Abu, a Dromedary camel with one. Both were adorable and very invested in our arrival, even though we weren’t there for them. There was also a barramundi in the third stall, which I didn’t expect to see in Tennessee, but he was neat!

Then we were brought into a small room to meet our sloth. His name was Flash, and he was already dangling from a ceiling-mounted branch when we walked in. For nearly an hour, we stood there hand‑feeding this surprisingly large, unbelievably gentle three‑toed sloth while our guide shared all kinds of facts. I knew many of them already, but I still learned a few new things along the way.

Flash’s story was both sweet and sad. He came from a zoo where he’d had almost no human interaction. When the farm took him in, the owner spent every day sitting in his enclosure, simply talking to him and keeping him company until Flash grew comfortable. Thanks to that patience and consistency, Flash eventually learned to trust people enough to be fed and gently touched. It was a beautiful transformation.

And then came the second surprise.

Not only did we get to feed a sloth — we got to hold one.

I was already on emotional cloud nine with Flash. Standing that close to him had nearly brought me to tears. But then, with Flash still hanging above us, the guide brought out Dash.

Dash was younger and much more accustomed to people. He was raised with constant human interaction, so while Flash tolerated gentle touches, Dash was perfectly happy to be held. According to our guide, he and the other ambassador sloths crave human affection.

When I sat down and they placed that sleepy little sloth in my lap, I broke. I cried again — the good kind of crying — as he curled his long limbs around me, got comfortable, yawned, and fell asleep.

From that moment on, I barely heard a word our guide said. I was completely melted, lost in the soft, wiry fur and the gentle weight of a sloth napping on me. Eventually, I let my mom have her turn, but the phantom feeling of his fur stayed with me long after we left the barn.

During the quiet moments afterward, before our next encounter, I felt both blissful and broken. Feeding Flash, watching him dangle above me, holding Dash as he yawned and snuggled — it filled me with warmth I can still feel. But it also hurt. This was something I had always dreamed of doing, and more than anything, something I had wanted to share with my friend.

Spending time with the sloths was the most beautiful and painful part of the entire day. And it kicked everything off with an emotional bang.

(Cute, sleepy Dash~)

The Midday Break

After the sloth encounter, we had a few hours to kill before the rest of our overstimulating adventure continued. So my mother and I grabbed lunch and decided to explore the area a bit.

That wandering led us to a beautiful river just a few miles up the road from the farm — or more accurately, a small park built around the river. The park sat right beside one of the city’s dams, which was absolutely massive up close. With the river kept low for winter and the dam shut off, I could only imagine the beautiful, thunderous chaos that must erupt once they release the water in warmer months!

Well… I didn’t have to imagine too hard. Several signs around the park proudly announced that in spring and summer, when the dam opens, the river transforms into Olympic‑style whitewater rapids. As in: record‑holding, professional‑level rapids that people intentionally come to challenge every year.

Those signs were both awe‑inspiring and mildly terrifying.

But chaotic water revelations aside, the moment itself was peaceful. We found a bench right at the river’s edge and settled in with our drinks. Two older fishermen were bantering as they cast their lines, and before long, another pair pulled up in a little boat to join the conversation. Birds flitted around us, squirrels chattered in the trees, and everything felt calm and grounded.

And then — as if the universe wanted to add a dramatic flourish — a Bald Eagle soared right over us. A full, majestic fly‑by. It happened near the end of our break, and my jaw absolutely dropped.

It was the perfect quiet interlude before the rest of the day swept us back into adventure.

Meeting Some Kangaroos

Once we made our way back to the farm, the next adventure of the day began: meeting the kangaroos. This time, the owner himself gave the tour, and he was just as friendly and easygoing as our earlier guide. What we didn’t expect, however, was to actually go in with the kangaroos. My mom and I fully assumed we’d be feeding them through a fence.

Nope.

We went right in.

The owner positioned himself between the big red male and us while he chatted about kangaroo behavior, and we got to feed the females little carrot pieces. It was adorable. My mom was a bit more intimidated by how close the females were, but I was not. I was giggling like a five‑year‑old, absolutely delighted by their little grabby paws demanding more snacks. Eventually, they started leaning on us, and we became human support beams for a group of very relaxed, very nonchalant kangaroos.

Well… the females were nonchalant. The male was a different story.

(The big male with some of his girls.)

Along with general kangaroo facts, we learned about their specific mob. Their male comes from a breeding line of exceptionally large captive roos, and the owner and farmhands are actively working to “top” that size. If I remember correctly, his sire was around seven to eight feet tall and well over a hundred pounds — a size they fully expect their male to reach once he’s done growing. He’s not quite full‑grown yet, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating.

He watched us the entire time, and at one point stood up on his hind legs, leaned back on his tail, and showed off the full extent of his height and musculature. It was… majestic, honestly. Majestic and mildly terrifying.

But once his need to posture passed, he softened right up. After we finished feeding and hanging out with the group, he even gave us kisses through the fence, which was both hilarious and endearing.

Then we headed back toward the main barn — and were greeted by baby kangaroos.

Two of them, to be exact.

One was born there, and the other had been brought in so their joey would have a companion to grow up with. We learned a bit about their lineage and then spent a while cuddling baby kangaroos, which was every bit as precious as it sounds. After that, we met up with a larger group of visitors and moved on to the “petting zoo” portion of the tour.

(Me and the babies!)

Petting Zoo Chaos

This was the moment Mom and I finally understood why there were two gates leading into the pastures with the goats, sheep, and the turkey. The second we stepped inside, we were enthusiastically ambushed.

Some of the goats were huge and had absolutely no problem standing on us or leaning their full weight against us to reach the alfalfa hay balls we were offering. One particularly bold goat even stole someone’s entire bag and ate it — and yes, I mean the bag itself.

The sheep were a bit more polite, but still large enough that they accidentally shoved you as they wandered by. They were incredibly woolly since it wasn’t shearing season yet — and apparently one of them doesn’t get sheared at all due to a skin condition. To add to the chaos, there were two sheep that looked suspiciously like goats… and a goat that looked suspiciously like a sheep.

It was confusing, and it was glorious.

And then there was Tom the turkey. All that proud strutting we’d seen earlier? Turns out he just wanted attention. The owner demonstrated what happens when you pick Tom up — and he immediately deflated like a balloon. Perfectly content, perfectly calm. But the second you put him down, he puffed right back up again. I laughed so hard!

(A clear view of me trying to feed those particularly large, pushy goats.)

The Barn of Many Wonders

After we wrapped up the petting‑zoo portion of the tour, our group was led back into the same barn from earlier. This time, we finally got to meet the rest of the animals that called the massive building home — and it was far more than any of us expected.

First up was the barramundi I mentioned earlier. We officially met him this time, though I still can’t remember his name to save my life. What I can tell you is that he was feisty, so only our guide was allowed to hold him. We did get to gently touch him while she kept him distracted, and let me tell you: if something looks fluffy and soft, it is. That not-so-little creature was so unbelievably soft that he rivaled a teddy bear!

Then came the camels. We got to meet Abu, the Dromedary, while Ed — the young, rambunctious Bactrian — stayed safely in his stall. We learned a ton about both of them, including the fact that very large animals can make the tiniest, most adorable baby noises imaginable. Abu also loved giving kisses. He whined, whimpered, and made all sorts of needy little sounds before nudging, nuzzling, and licking anyone brave enough to pose for a picture. I never knew something that big could sound that cute!

After Abu was tucked away, it was time for the little guys — and there were many.

The first introduction? Micro Squirrels.

(Micro Squirrels!)

I can now confidently say I adore — and desperately want to own — micro squirrels.

These tiny rodents are technically a type of tree mouse, but they’re called micro squirrels because of their fluffy tails. They’re barely bigger than standard white mice and are incredibly arboreal, so they love to climb. Our guide brought out five of them at once, all perched on her hand, and passed them around the group. I had to physically restrain myself from squealing when it was my turn. They were so tiny and so cute, I could hardly stand it! And yes — you can legally own them. Other than needing a diverse diet, they’re surprisingly easy to keep.

Tiny squirrels aside, the next animals were sugar gliders — and this time it was my mom’s turn to lose her mind. She loves sugar gliders and has been begging me for years to get some. They’re more advanced than people realize, and I’m not eager to take on such specific husbandry needs, but I’ll admit… they’re adorable. Bigger than micro squirrels, but just as soft and twitchy. One even crawled into my mom’s ponytail when it was our turn to hold them!

Next up was a hedgehog. We got to touch him, and when I say “touch,” I mean touch — our guide held the spiky, grumpy little ball for safety reasons. This one was albino, complete with pinkish‑red eyes and more yellow coloration than I expected. Also: hedgehogs are way pointier than I ever imagined. I always thought their spines were softer or more bendy. They are not. They are tiny, adorable weapons.

Then we met a big green iguana. His name escapes me, but he was relaxed, used to people, and had no problem showing off. He strutted across the floor, struck a dramatic pose… and then went to the bathroom in front of everyone. Equal parts gross and hilarious.

One of the last animals we met was the biggest surprise: an armadillo. A three‑banded one, which meant he was safe to touch and handle. At first, our guide held him while we took turns feeling his strange mix of smooth, scaly, and furry textures. Then she set him down, and the entire barn erupted into laughter as he zoomed around between our legs like a tiny race car. I can still hear the rapid little tip‑taps of his claws on the concrete.

Finally, we were surprised by another interaction with the baby kangaroos—and a big Sulcata tortoise. The tortoise had been wandering around the barn the whole time, but only got his moment in the spotlight toward the end. We didn’t expect to see the joeys again, but sure enough, both were let out to hop around the open space while our guide talked about their upbringing. With more people around, they were extra energetic. One even leapt over me like I was a hurdle!

This part of the tour took up most of the remaining day, and by the time we wrapped up, it was getting late. But we still had one more surprise waiting for us.

(One of the Joeys greeting the Sulcata!)

The Grande Finale

Our final encounter of the day turned out to be some personal time with a pair of Fennec Foxes — an unexpected and absolutely glorious surprise for me, my mom, and the few others who had booked this experience. For most of the day, the foxes had been tucked away in their indoor enclosures since it was still a bit too cold for them outside. But once we stepped out of the barn… There they were!

A boy and girl pair: Finn and Gwen.

Not only did we get to learn all about them and watch our guide wrangle them from a safe distance — we also got to hold them. Because of course we did. That’s just how this farm operates. Watching them get fitted into their tiny harnesses and passed carefully around our small group taught me a lot about these giant‑eared little gremlins. Finn, the younger of the two, was far more accustomed to being handled. His vibe was very much, “Oh, okay, we’re doing this,” and he settled into people’s arms with minimal fuss once he got comfortable.

Gwen, on the other hand, was newer and not nearly as confident. Despite being a bit older, she curled into a tight, nervous little ball whenever she was held. I felt so bad for her and did my best to cuddle and reassure her when it was my turn. To her credit, she did lift her head, make eye contact, and give me a tiny “eep,” which I am choosing to interpret as a blessing.

Finn, meanwhile, was perfectly content to sit in your arms like a tiny, bat‑eared prince once he accepted the attention.

And yes — they wore harnesses with leashes attached. They’re bolters, and Finn apparently has a track record. But all was well. It was the perfect way to end the day: minimal chaos, maximum adorableness. Just two tiny foxes being cuddled by a group of tired, blissfully happy people.

(Me with Finn.)

Reflecting on the Day

All things considered, this day absolutely trumped my birthday experience. It was packed with surprises, learning, laughter, and moments that felt almost unreal. Every time I thought the excitement had peaked, something else happened. It just kept going.

I met so many incredible animals, experienced their personalities up close, and had interactions I never imagined I’d get to have. It was beautifully overstimulating — emotional, hilarious, tender, chaotic, and unforgettable all at once. And I will forever thank my brilliant mother for making it happen~

This isn’t the first amazing thing that’s happened since we moved to Tennessee, and it certainly won’t be the last. But it’s definitely at the top of the list. It reminded me why I love animals so deeply, why these experiences matter to me, and why I’m grateful for this strange, wonderful chapter of life we’re in.

Here’s to more adventures, more surprises, and more days that leave me buzzing with joy long after they’re over.

(Like what you're reading? Great, I loved writing it!)