Cuban Crocodile Faces Possible Return Home After 30 Years in Russia

As unusual as it may sound, the story of Kuzya—a Cuban crocodile that has spent nearly thirty years living as a pet in a plumbing shop in Novosibirsk, Siberia—is indeed true. Now, Kuzya's future is uncertain due to a new Russian law forbidding the keeping of crocodiles as pets. His owner, Evgueni Fradkin, is contemplating a unique and symbolic solution: returning Kuzya to his "historical homeland" of Cuba.

From Cuban Waters to Siberian Shores

Kuzya entered Fradkin's life back in 1996 when he was just a hatchling. "I bought him from a regular pet store; he was tiny back then," Fradkin shared with the Moskovski Komsomolets newspaper. Over the years, the crocodile thrived in a large aquarium within the shop, equipped with biological filters, infrared lamps, a lighting system mimicking solar cycles, and even a shower.

"Everything was scheduled: lighting, UV light, water filtration, feeding..." Fradkin explained. Kuzya's diet features Siberian crucian carp—his favorite snack—along with vitamins and mineral supplements. He can devour three or four large fish in one sitting.

Over time, Kuzya not only adjusted to Siberia's indoor climate but also became a local celebrity. He appeared on local TV shows, attracting visitors and customers alike, while authorities inspected him two or three times a year without raising concerns about his well-being.

Legislative Changes Threaten Kuzya's Habitat

Everything changed in May 2025 when the Russian government issued a decree banning private individuals from keeping wild animals, including all crocodiles, alligators, and caimans, outside zoos or specialized facilities. The law became effective on September 1 of the same year. Since then, Fradkin has until February 11, 2026, to hand Kuzya over to a certified center, as per the Russian Federal Service for Supervision of Natural Resource Management (Rosprirodnadzor).

The regulation, however, includes an exception: animals acquired before January 1, 2020, can remain with their owners until they die naturally. The catch is Fradkin doesn't have the purchase receipt from 1996. "Unfortunately, the owner no longer has the receipt to prove the purchase date," Russian media reported. Without this proof, it all depends on how authorities interpret the law or what a court might decide if it goes to trial.

Exploring Emotional and Symbolic Solutions

Fradkin is determined not to hand over his pet to just anyone. He has explored options with private zoos but found their conditions lacking. "In close-ups, the crocodiles' teeth are yellow. That means they're in an ecologically unfavorable zone," he noted. A representative from the Ekaterinburg Crocodile Farm, which is willing to take Kuzya, remarked, "Your Kuzya is a beauty… Have you seen how white Kuzya's teeth are? A dentist's dream come true."

Still, Fradkin remains unconvinced. He believes zoos, despite being legal, are businesses driven more by profit than by ensuring animal welfare. Here enters a third option: repatriation.

The Symbolic Homecoming of a Cuban Crocodile

"I thought about approaching the consular section of the Embassy of the Republic of Cuba in the Russian Federation. Let them return our Cuban crocodile to his historical homeland, his natural habitat, if he's such a rare and endangered species. He'd be a repatriate..." Fradkin told the Russian media.

Though the idea hasn't been formally submitted to the diplomatic mission, the owner himself sees it as a dignified and meaningful solution, considering the species' status and the animal's cultural ties to the island.

A Threatened Species and Cultural Ambassador

Kuzya isn't just any reptile. He's a Crocodylus rhombifer, a species endemic to Cuba, primarily found in the Zapata Swamp and the Isle of Youth. The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) lists it as "critically endangered," and it falls under Appendix I of CITES, imposing strict restrictions on its trade and international movement.

If confirmed that Kuzya truly belongs to this species—which experts would need to verify—his potential return to Cuba would not only be symbolically significant but could also aid conservation efforts.

However, the process wouldn't be straightforward. It would require CITES-compliant export and import permits, coordination between environmental authorities in both countries, and, most importantly, a Cuban institution willing to receive and care for the animal, either in captivity or as part of a protection program.

An Open-Ended Tale of an Unusual Journey

For now, Kuzya remains the star of the Novosibirsk plumbing shop, an unexpected survivor amid the Siberian chill, his life illustrating a peculiar mix of legality, affection, and conservation.

As Russian authorities count down to his mandatory relocation, his owner grapples with the idea of parting with the reptile that has been a part of his life for nearly three decades. "And how can you give away a pet that has lived in a shop for three decades?" he wonders, visibly moved.

Kuzya's tale is undoubtedly a modern fable—albeit with sharp teeth—about the globalization of fauna, the limits of the law, and the remote yet not impossible chance of a Cuban crocodile returning home after a lifetime in Siberia.