Although a zoo had previously been at the center of an animal custody story, this one came with a particularly scathing smile. Discovered in a fenced-in backyard pond just outside Austin, Texas, the 8-foot-long alligator—later named Tewa—was remarkably similar to a private fish hatchery, save for the reptilian resident lounging in the sun.
The alligator, thought to be male until recently, was being cared for by a woman who had no intention of creating a spectacle. She had previously worked as a volunteer at the Animal World & Snake Farm Zoo close to New Braunfels, according to Texas Game Wardens. During one of her shifts under a previous zoo administration twenty years ago, she allegedly put an alligator hatchling—or perhaps an egg—into her pocket and left. The action took place only a few miles from one of Texas’s busiest interstates, but it sounds like the plot of a Southern-fried caper novel.
| Item | Details |
|---|---|
| Alligator’s Name | Tewa |
| Species | American Alligator |
| Length at Recovery | Approximately 8 feet (2.5 meters) |
| Stolen From | Animal World & Snake Farm Zoo (near New Braunfels, Texas) |
| Stolen By | Former zoo volunteer, over 20 years ago |
| Discovered In | Backyard enclosure in Caldwell County, Texas |
| Returned To | Original zoo in Texas |
| Legal Outcome | Owner cited for two misdemeanors related to illegal possession |
| Zoo’s Message | “Alligators don’t make good pets, y’all” |
| Current Status | Living with other alligators at the zoo, fully reintroduced |
The alligator lived in seclusion for more than 20 years in what officials called a surprisingly ornate enclosure, complete with a man-made pond. She took good care of the animal, gave it the name Tewa, and might have even mistaken her intimacy for empathy. A game warden who was looking into a completely unrelated hunting problem on a nearby property saw something unexpected behind the fence line, shattering that illusion. She discovered Tewa, blinking slowly from the cool waters of an illegal habitat, not a shotgun or a poacher.
The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department swiftly discovered the woman did not have the permits needed to keep such a creature by using their enforcement power. Not only is it dangerous to own an alligator without the required paperwork, but it is also illegal in Texas. The unidentified woman received two citations: one for unlawfully possessing an egg and another for unlawfully owning a live alligator. There is a possible fine of several hundred dollars for each offense.
By this time, the zoo had changed ownership, undergone renovations, and its procedures had been updated. However, Tewa’s roots remained connected to the establishment, so the department reached out to the Animal World & Snake Farm Zoo. The zoo immediately consented to return the animal. Tewa was suddenly reunited with the species she hadn’t seen in years.
The way the zoo staff described her return moved me unexpectedly; it felt more like a homecoming than a confiscation.
Tewa swims with other alligators once more after acclimating to her new surroundings. She can be seen gliding through deeper waters in zoo video footage, her body noticeably wider than when she lived alone. For a reptile that has lived outside of normal ecological patterns for the majority of her life, her new caregivers report that she is adapting remarkably well. Strangely, her story ended up being an unanticipated teaching tool.
“Alligators don’t make good pets, y’all,” officials reminded the public in a very clear and humorous statement. Tewa’s journey demonstrated what can happen when even a well-meaning act veers into ethical and legal gray areas, whereas many stories about exotic animals end in tragedy or euthanasia.
The state’s choice to leave the past alone was especially creative. The focus remained on rehabilitation—of the alligator and the situation—rather than jail time or turning the case into a protracted battle. Tewa’s caregiver was held responsible without harsh punishment, and Tewa was given another chance.
The strange turn of events? Before zoo medical personnel verified Tewa’s gender, it was assumed that she was male. It serves as a gentle reminder of how little we frequently understand about the animals we profess to care for, particularly when those animals have been raised away from their natural habitat.
Tewa’s story is now incorporated into the educational programming at the Animal World & Snake Farm Zoo. In addition to learning about her biology and species behavior, visitors are also informed about her decades-long detour through human domestication. It serves as a living reminder to passing families and students that nature is not a permanent fixture.
The story of this one alligator subtly conveys a larger point: wild animals belong in ecosystems, not in backyard ponds. Even so, there was a distinctly human quality to Tewa’s story amid the fences and court documents—a peculiar combination of love, neglect, and final reckoning.
She became the unanticipated focal point of a discussion about accountability and return because she was a creature that was never intended to be owned. Even though her new enclosure is still man-made, it is a part of a facility that is designed to serve her needs rather than just keep her confined.
