A snake, a jar, and a note from a legend. The start of a six-year-old boy’s lifelong dream.

In 1981, Bradley R. Holland tagged along to pick up his father from Perth airport. With a single terminal and only two runways, it wasn’t the most exciting place for a kid, but it turned into a momentous day.

Holland’s father was working on Barrow Island, off the Pilbara coast, at the time, studying its unique biodiversity alongside celebrated Australian naturalist Harry Butler. He asked the ABC presenter to meet his animal-loving son. Butler did more than that. He gave young Holland a specimen of a Stimson’s python preserved in methylated spirits and a handwritten letter about what he was doing at the island.

Holland generously donated Butler’s python to his primary school’s specimen table, sharing the content of the letter with his peers and how Butler’s words inspired him.

The boy’s dream of owning his own zoo had begun. But it would take him another 38 years – and many hurdles – to get there.

Holland’s love for animals was nurtured through TV shows like Leo the Cross-Eyed Lion and an array of pets, from birds and horses to lizards and possums. He was rarely far from an animal, managing to find work alongside them at goat farms or wildlife parks from as young as 10.

His collection of pets continued to grow and, though he might deny it, he had his favourites. “When I was 16 years old, I had an aunt who had sold a block of land, and she said I could have whatever I wished for. And my wish was for a pair of Major Mitchell cockatoos,” he recalls.

However, animals weren’t Holland’s only passion and as his collection grew, so did his ambitions. At 18, a quick trip to Sydney staying with a couple, whose backyard resembled a private zoo, turned into a new home. Surrounded by animals he was unable to keep in Western Australia, he quickly became immersed in the local wildlife scene. There he also completed his chef’s apprenticeship while studying acting, eventually moving into environmental education.

After several years in this space, and helping to promote the Australian Wildlife Expo, Holland saw a chance to bring his work back to Perth. With his mother’s declining health adding to the reasons to return home, and reptile keeping becoming legal in Western Australia, he applied to run his own mobile wildlife education business. As soon as he got his permit, Holland began sharing his knowledge at schools, community events and birthday parties.

The birth of a new era

One day, four years into the gig, he strolled into another child’s birthday party, red hair and flaming beard immediately catching the mother’s attention. “Come on kids, Ranger Red’s here,” she called. It was the start of Holland’s new persona. He now jokes he only gets called Bradley when he’s in trouble.

When former Peel Zoo came on the market in 2017, Holland saw an opportunity to turn his childhood dream into a reality. After two years of negotiations, he became one of the zoo’s owners, naming it Ranger Red’s Zoo and Conservation Park, merging all of his passions — acting, education and animals.

The zoo is in Pinjarra, about an hour south of Perth, and is home to a range of species, including koalas, wombats, dingoes, kangaroos, goats and exotic birds. Smaller native species such as bettongs, possums and quolls are also part of the family, alongside a variety of reptiles, including alligators.

But some dreams come with a price. “There’s a saying be careful what you wish for because you might just get it,” Holland says.

Running a zoo is expensive, something he believes most visitors don’t think about. Holland pays $8000 a month just for rent, with additional costs such as maintenance, animals, enclosures, staff and veterinarian bills all adding up. The park needs to pull at least $2000 a day before he can take a wage.

Then there is the painful irony that while Holland is surrounded by animals, he does not get to spend much time with them. Instead, he’s stuck inside, replacing furry, scaled and feathered faces with words on a screen. “I did it because I love animals and conservation not realising how much paperwork is created,” he says. “I don’t even get a chance to walk around.”

Zoos also bring critics, with comments online questioning the integrity of the park, some even taking a stab at Holland directly. “I think some people could just have the wrong approach on him, but if you sat down and talked to him, you’d understand,” zoo maintenance worker and long-time friend Michael Duxbury says. “He’s a good guy… I can tell people probably think he doesn’t have enough time to talk to me, or is a bit rude, but it’s not the case.”

Keeper Charlotte Ansley can see how visitors might misconstrue the amount of time Holland spends behind a desk as lack of care for the animals, no matter how untrue. “They don’t see the different sides of him being out here with the animals, so they might think he’s not in for the animals,” she says.

Holland believes views towards zoos and wildlife parks are changing. Public perceptions of animal welfare can also be shaped by the environments animals live in. A study of 638 visitors at Melbourne Zoo and Taronga Zoo found that visitors’ perceptions of little penguin welfare were related to how they rated the animals’ enclosure and behaviour. The researchers found that more positive attitudes towards the penguins were associated with higher ratings of their welfare and enclosure. The findings suggest that the area animals live in can influence how the public understands their wellbeing.

At Red Zoo, online reviews show similarly varied perceptions of the facilities. One 2026 reviewer described the bird cages as overcrowded and the enclosures as neglected, while another acknowledged that while some enclosures were run down, the animals themselves still appeared well looked after.

“Everyone’s kind of entitled to their views. But, you know, these animals aren’t animals that would survive in the wild. I meet all their welfare concerns,” Holland says.

After years of dedicating his life to caring for animals, it hurts when people question his ethics, especially when it becomes a personal attack. One comment calling him calling him a fat, lazy slug. Holland says these remarks can make him question his worth.

The pressures expand beyond the zoo’s gates. Holland describes himself as being married to his work, joking the only time he gets a day off is for a funeral. His commitment to the zoo has come at the expense of dating and relationships, leaving little room for love outside the park.

However, the place that demands much of Holland’s effort is also where he has created his own community. “We’re all a big part of this operation and making sure everything’s alright,” says Duxbury. And when it all gets too much, those who have chosen to stay by his side will be there to help ease the load.

Holland does it for the animals and the children, hoping those who visit the zoo have the chance to learn something new. Research by Murdoch University found that 72 per cent of visitors to zoos arrived with a learning agenda, based on interviews with 540 visitors across nine zoo case studies. The researchers also found that 75 per cent of participating zoos believed most of their visitors came to learn.

For Holland, education in conservation is one of the reasons he continues to care for such a wide range of animals. “Hands on contact with animals creates an empathy,” Holland says. “We can’t expect them to respect what they could lose, if we don’t make an effort to save it.”

All of this goes back to a six-year-old boy who stood in front of Harry Butler and made himself a promise. One he won’t give up on anytime soon. He even hopes to expand the zoo to a bigger location in the coming years.

After all, it’s never just been a job for Ranger Red. “I’ll die doing this,” he says.