Marvin has a problem with affection.
He can’t stop himself.
He will give a peep, like he’s a four-legged, come-to-life squeaky toy, then find a caretaker or stranger at the Yellow River Wildlife Sanctuary and nuzzle, nuzzle, nuzzle their legs. Also he licks a lot.
And he’s no taller than your knee.
He is Marvin the muntjac, an exotic animal enjoying a bumper crop of what he loves: people. April is the busiest month for the private wildlife sanctuary, kicked off by school spring breaks and visiting families and kids on field trips to see a variety of creatures, including bunnies, bison, wolves, deer, bears, peacocks, and just one of Marvin’s kind.
He looks like a tiny deer. Except for the flaring scent glands on his face. He also has mostly hidden fangs, which is why muntjacs sometimes are called “vampire deer.” Another common nickname for the omnivore: “barking deer,” because it can make a faint yap, a bit like a dog with laryngitis.
Marvin’s keepers say they never hear him bark. Instead, they hear the squeaking he makes whenever he wants to be noticed. Which is often.
He is, as Jonathan Ordway, an owner of the 125-animal sanctuary said, “overly friendly.”
“He just wants love. He is always right at your ankle, trying to get attention, saying ‘look at me.’”
Where Marvin came from is a bit of a mystery. A man out for a jog shared a video of Marvin running to keep up with him, squeaking all the way. Later the animal was found wandering outside a Fulton County school, said Kaitlin Goode, the manager of the Georgia Department of Natural Resources’ urban wildlife program.
That was nearly three years ago. Officials called Ordway, who along with his wife Katy owns the sanctuary in Lilburn.
Would he be willing to take in a muntjac?
“Absolutely!” Ordway remembered telling them.
Then he googled to find out what a muntjac was.
Credit: arvin.temkar@ajc.com
Credit: arvin.temkar@ajc.com
Marvin’s species, Reeves’ muntjac, and other versions, are from Asia originally. Some escaped private owners in Britain, though, and have now populated a chunk of the English countryside, eating shoots and brambles and, perhaps, contributing to the decline of some birds such as nightingales, according to a wildlife organization.
In Georgia, another kind of deer, white-tailed, is everywhere and deer-hunting season is almost as big as college football. But it isn’t legal here for private citizens to have muntjacs. Which might be why whomever had Marvin originally apparently didn’t put up “Lost” signs on telephone poles or post about him on Nextdoor.
“This is a wild animal that was being held illegally and somehow escaped,” the DNR’s Goode said.
There apparently are other muntjacs held in Georgia by facilities with special permits, though exactly how many hasn’t been tabulated. Zoo Atlanta used to have one, also named “Marvin,” but it died in 2000 and hasn’t been replaced.
Marvin has four scent glands on his face, two by the corner of each eye and two in between his eyes. He uses them to mark his area, flaring them open and, sometimes, his keepers say, emitting a little goo. He is particularly fond of doing this on the backs of people’s knees or on their ankles.
The weird, alien-like openings led keepers to name him Marvin, after the Looney Tunes’ character, “Marvin the Martian.”
Credit: arvin.temkar@ajc.com
Credit: arvin.temkar@ajc.com
Most visitors aren’t able to get close enough to Marvin to get nuzzled, unless they get a special tour.
Amy Killian, a visitor from Jefferson returning with her grandkids, had seen Marvin before and was amazed. “It was so small.”
Marvin, now thought to be about four years old, weighs about 25 pounds, stands about 18 inches tall and has tiny but sharp antlers.
When Lance Grimes, the sanctuary’s hoof stock keeper, sweeps up Marvin’s enclosure, the little deer often trails him, even if it means temporarily leaving behind his food bowl of grains, veggies and fruits. Grimes often stops to oblige him with scratches.
Does it drive the staff nuts?
“No,” said Grimes.
“Yes,” said Clint Murphy, the sanctuary’s zoological curator. Marvin “can get in the way ‘cause he desperately wants attention all the time.”
There are other characters at the sanctuary. Hank, the tom turkey, who likes to follow people around the park, particularly those pushing strollers. And the gentle giant, Ferdinand, a bull who weighs nearly 1,900 pounds. Most are animals taken in because they weren’t wanted by previous owners or because the past owners weren’t allowed to have them.
Under previous ownership the facility, then known as the Yellow River Game Ranch, struggled financially and there were complaints about the level of care for the animals. It shut down several years ago.
Ordway, who owns apartment complexes, had been a regular visitor before he and his wife decided to buy what was left of the property and the remaining animals. He said they sank money into what has become “purely just a passion project.”
Marvin shares his enclosure with two albino wallabies and two Patagonia mara, which look a bit like a cross between a rabbit and a tiny deer. Murphy, the curator, said he couldn’t think of a unifying geographic theme among the enclosure’s animals, but they were all “stupid cute.”
The sanctuary sometimes posts videos of its animals on social media. Ones involving Marvin often get the most attention, Ordway said. Which is perhaps just right for a little guy who seems to crave that more than anything.
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