How one single mother built an animal sanctuary, and found hope, purpose, and love along the way.

The first thing you notice is the quiet.

Not silence, because there’s plenty of sound, but the kind of peace that only exists in places where animals feel safe.

A rooster crows somewhere beyond the fence. Goats chatter to one another from beneath a shade tree. Horses lift their heads as visitors approach, ears forward, curious rather than cautious. A young donkey ambles over, stretching her nose toward anyone willing to scratch behind her ears. Nearby, a pig ambles confidently into the middle of the gathering, convinced every new person has arrived specifically to see her.

It’s impossible to stand here without smiling as Henrietta, the donkey, nibbles at your rings. 

This sanctuary wasn’t built by investors or backed by wealthy donors. It wasn’t the result of a master plan or a fundraising campaign.

It was built one fence post at a time.

Twenty-six years ago, Iris Pisko stood on a piece of raw Florida land that looked like little more than possibility. She had moved from Germany in 2000 with her husband, four children, two horses, an aging donkey, a dog, and a cat. In Germany, she had built a successful career as a banker, earning a comfortable living. But in Florida, banking offered neither the salary nor the flexibility she needed.

Then came divorce.

Her husband kept the house. She kept the land. To most people, it wasn’t much, but for Iris, it was the beginning of a dream she had carried since childhood.

“I always wanted to live on a farm,” she says. The challenge wasn’t finding the dream, it was figuring out how to survive long enough to reach it.

With four children to raise on her own, a traditional office job wasn’t practical. Schools call when children get sick. Someone always needs to be picked up. Someone always has an appointment. A single mother doesn’t have the luxury of pretending life happens on a schedule.

Real estate offered something different. She could work from home. She could take her children with her if she needed to. She could answer her phone between school pickups. Eventually she began specializing in farm properties.

Without realizing it, she had stepped into the role that would define the rest of her life.

Every time she sold a farm, she’d ask the same question.

“So, what happens to the animals?” Again and again, she heard the same heartbreaking answer. “We’ll probably have them put down.”

Iris never accepted that. “Don’t,” she’d tell them. “I’ll take them.” One horse became several. A donkey joined the family. Then goats. Turkeys. Pigs. Ducks. Chickens. Animals that had nowhere else to go simply kept arriving. 

Her children quickly noticed the pattern. Whenever their mother announced she’d gotten a new farm listing, they’d grin. “What kind of animals are we getting this time?” The joke wasn’t really a joke. There usually were animals coming home.

Fandango Sanctuary Was Born

The sanctuary grew long before it had a name. People began hearing about the woman who never seemed to say no. Need a home for an elderly horse? Call Iris. A neglected donkey? Call Iris. Someone moving away? Someone overwhelmed? Someone ready to give up? Call Iris. Before she knew it, Iris was the official owner and founder of the Fandango Sanctuary. 

Every rescued life brought another feed bill.

Another veterinary bill. Another mouth to care for. Eventually real estate wasn’t enough. To keep feeding the growing family of animals, Iris took a second job working overnight shifts at an assisted living facility. Her days became almost impossible.

With her plate full working her real estate job, animal care, parenting, night shifts, then doing it all over again the next day, became overwhelming. “I realized I was going to burn out,” she says.

Friends encouraged her to become a nonprofit in 2019. It made sense on paper. People could donate and volunteers could help. The sanctuary could finally become sustainable.

Except there was one problem. Almost nobody knew it existed.

“I’ve never been very good at social media,” Iris laughs. The work continued anyway. Because by then she’d already survived something much harder.

Years earlier, not long after her divorce, Iris reached one of the darkest seasons of her life. She had recently survived a devastating rollover car accident after another driver struck her vehicle. Her children escaped serious injury, but Iris suffered lasting shoulder and neck injuries.

Her family remained in Germany, yet Iris desperately wanted to return home. Instead, the family court ordered her to stay. Without permission from her former husband, she couldn’t even move more than sixty miles away. She found herself raising four children alone in a country where she had almost no support system.

“I was really depressed,” she remembers.

One conversation changed everything.

A friend’s mother listened quietly before asking a simple question. “What’s your dream?”

Iris answered immediately. Ever since childhood, Iris had imagined living like Pippi Longstocking; surrounded by rescued animals, giving them a place where no one would ever hurt them again.

Then reality interrupted. “I have four kids,” she replied. “I make minimum wage. How?”

The older woman smiled. “If you have ten dollars left at the end of the month,” she said, “buy one fence post.”

The next month? Buy another.

The advice was profound. Don’t focus on the whole farm. Build the next piece. Keep the dream alive. That advice became the foundation for everything visitors see today. Every extra dollar bought another fence post. Another gate, then another section of fencing, leading to another improvement. Year after year. One fence post at a time.

Iris built the sanctuary, and Ernst helped strengthen its future.

After years working overseas, Ernst Pisko found himself returning to the United States. Florida wasn’t part of the plan, but then he met Iris.

Having spent years involved in rescue work with horses and dogs, he immediately recognized both the need and the heart behind the sanctuary. He offered to help with business planning, legal paperwork, and organization. Somewhere between meetings, rescue stories, and shared values, something else happened. “We realized we had a lot in common,” Ernst says.

The relationship grew naturally. And last November they were married.

Their wedding reflected everything they loved most. Hay bales served as pews. The ceremony took place on the farm. The guests included family, friends, and of course, dozens of rescued animals.

The most unforgettable moment wasn’t planned. The instant the pastor pronounced them husband and wife, the rooster crowed. The donkeys answered. The horses joined in. Goats added their voices. Turkeys erupted into what sounded remarkably like applause.

“The pastor asked how we orchestrated it,” Ernst laughs. “We told him we didn’t.”

Some celebrations, it seems, organize themselves.

Every Animal Has a Story

Henrietta

Henrietta’s story nearly ended before it began.

Iris received a call about five neglected donkeys living on fifty acres where a failing well threatened to leave them without water. She couldn’t turn them away. Catching them became an all-day adventure, as the donkeys had spent years living almost untouched by people. They scattered across the property like wild deer. By evening they were finally loaded and headed toward safety.

Months later, Iris stepped outside one morning to discover a surprise. A tiny foal. The veterinarian delivered grim news that Henrietta probably wouldn’t survive. Her mother was severely underweight and the newborn was even weaker.

For days, Iris carefully tended both mother and baby in a quiet stall, limiting visitors and nursing them through the critical first week. Against the odds, Henrietta lived.

Today she’s impossible to ignore. She steals keys, chews shirt sleeves, investigates every backpack. She has never met an object she didn’t think belonged in her mouth. “She’s basically a teenager,” Ernst jokes.

She has also become the face of the sanctuary. A black-and-white portrait of Henrietta and Iris now capturing the hearts of everyone who sees it.

Then There’s Violet

One midnight phone call changed her life. A domestic pig had fallen from a slaughter truck. Police had called rescue after rescue, veterinarians, animal organizations, anyone who might help. No one could.

Iris answered.

When Violet arrived, she appeared almost lifeless, too injured to stand and covered in blood. For three days, Iris and a volunteer sat beside her, cleaning wounds, feeding her by syringe, and refusing to let hope disappear. “We promised her,” Iris says, “‘If you make it, you’ll never suffer again.'”

Slowly, something changed. The spark emerged and life returned to her once-lifeless eyes.

Today Violet greets visitors with joyful curiosity and enough personality to fill the entire farm. She’s become one of its greatest ambassadors.

Not Every Rescue Story Has a Happy Beginning.

A mule rescued moments before being shipped to slaughter.

A goat recovering from horrific abuse.

Retired competition horses whose owners no longer wanted the responsibility of caring for them.

Ducks raised in cardboard boxes.

Animals discarded because they grew too large, became inconvenient, or simply stopped being cute.

Their stories are difficult to hear, and Iris and Ernst have seen it all. There are too many stories to share. Yet, their recoveries make them impossible to forget. If Iris and Ernst can make a difference in an animal’s life, they will do anything in their power to give these animals a happy ending.

Running a sanctuary, however, is far more than compassion. It’s math.

Thousands of dollars each month in feed, with constant veterinary care for aging and special-needs animals, emergency surgeries, medication, maintenance. It costs $5000 a month simply to feed the animals and that doesn’t begin to cover the medical expenses. 

Then came Hurricane Ian. The storm devastated nearly everything. The animal shelters were destroyed and buildings damaged. Years of work disappeared almost overnight. Yet, Iris and Ernst took a deep breath and got to work. 

Recovery continues today.

Which is why Iris and Ernst now share one ambitious goal: a hurricane-safe concrete barn.

The building would allow every animal to shelter safely during future storms while providing flexible spaces for horses, donkeys, pigs, goats, and other rescued residents. “It isn’t a luxury,” Ernst says. “It’s something we need.”

Visitors can help by touring the sanctuary, sponsoring an animal, donating toward the building project, or simply sharing the sanctuary’s story. Every contribution becomes another fence post. Another step. Another chance.

Late in the afternoon, Henrietta wanders over once more. She nibbles at a shirt sleeve before deciding someone’s keys look far more interesting. Laughter ripples across the yard. Watching the little donkey play, it’s difficult to imagine that a veterinarian once believed she wouldn’t survive.

It’s equally difficult to imagine this entire sanctuary beginning with one exhausted single mother standing alone on an empty piece of land. But perhaps that’s the lesson. Dreams rarely arrive fully built. Sometimes they begin with ten extra dollars for one fence post.

One rescued animal. One impossible decision to keep going. Twenty-six years later, the sanctuary stands as proof that extraordinary things are often built exactly that way.

One fence post at a time.

For more information, visit fandangosanctuary.org.

Location 616 Pinto Trail, Englewood, FL 34223 or call 941-468-0334

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