There is nothing wrong with professional pet owners and private

The wild and fiery words of Joe Exotic resound across time: “There is nothing wrong with professional pet owners and private breeders of exotic animals. And I would be the first to fight to take away an animal from an irresponsible owner.” At first glance, these words seem bound to the controversies of his life, yet beneath them lies a truth as old as civilization itself: the eternal struggle between freedom and responsibility, between the right to hold dominion over creatures and the sacred duty to protect them. His voice reminds us that ownership is not the essence—stewardship is.

When he speaks of professional pet owners and private breeders, we must hear not only of cages and contracts but of humankind’s timeless desire to draw near to the mysteries of creation. From the days of the pharaohs, who kept lions in gilded courtyards, to the emperors of China who treasured exotic birds, humanity has sought closeness to the rare and the wondrous. Such ownership is neither inherently wicked nor noble; it is the heart of the keeper that determines whether the relationship brings harmony or harm. To keep an exotic creature is to hold fire in one’s hands—it can warm or it can destroy.

Yet, the second part of his declaration is the flame that purifies: “I would be the first to fight to take away an animal from an irresponsible owner.” Here lies the pivot, the dividing line between vanity and virtue. The irresponsible owner is not simply careless but destructive, chaining what was born to roam, starving what was meant to flourish, silencing what was made to roar. Against such abuse, every true guardian of life must rise, for to protect the voiceless is a calling higher than law, higher than pride, higher than ownership.

History bears witness to this truth. Recall the ancient tale of Ashoka the Great, the Indian emperor who, after years of conquest, turned to the path of compassion. He saw the needless suffering of both humans and animals and decreed protection for many creatures across his realm. Though he wielded power enough to conquer nations, he chose instead to champion mercy. In his reign we see the same principle: that greatness lies not in possession of the wild but in the wisdom to defend it. Like Ashoka, the true keeper is not one who cages the beast for glory, but one who shields it from cruelty.

Joe Exotic’s words also touch upon the paradox of power. To be entrusted with the care of exotic animals is to hold sway over beings whose majesty surpasses our own. Tigers, lions, and rare birds are not trinkets; they are fragments of the untamed world, carrying in their eyes the forests and jungles from which they come. To misuse this power is to betray not only the creature but the balance of nature itself. To use it wisely is to participate in the ancient covenant between humankind and creation, where the strong protect the vulnerable and the wise uphold harmony.

The lesson for us is both practical and eternal: ownership is secondary, responsibility is supreme. One may hold land, wealth, or creatures, but these possessions are but shadows. What endures is how they were cared for, how suffering was eased, how life was honored. If you are to keep any being—whether the humblest bird or the mightiest tiger—be certain that your heart is bound not by greed but by guardianship. And if you witness neglect, do not remain silent. As the quote demands, rise as the first to fight, for silence in the face of cruelty is itself a kind of cruelty.

Therefore, future generations, mark these words well: it is not wrong to keep, but it is wrong to neglect. It is not wicked to own, but it is vile to abuse. Whether you walk among common pets or the most exotic of animals, remember that their lives are not ornaments for your pride but sacred trusts placed in your care. Let your hands be gentle, your will be firm against cruelty, and your spirit attuned to the balance of life. In this lies true mastery—not in dominion, but in devotion.