Sparky’s Big Day

First you hear a rustling, then a scratching, and finally a sniffing sound that could come from a vacuum cleaner or a truffle pig – or something even more exotic.

And then there he is, standing before us in all his glory: the pangolin who has touched hearts across Namibia over the past few months. Sparky is the pangolin’s name, and right now he’s scurrying busily through the Namibian bush. His favourite food: termites. His favourite object: shoes. Preferably leather, slightly worn. With his shiny eyes twinkling mischievously as he looks around, the pangolin keeps his caretakers on their toes; on this July evening, nothing can stop Sparky.

But it wasn’t always like this. Quite the opposite: The fact that Sparky is scurrying about healthy and lively through Namibia’s grasslands is nothing short of a medical miracle and is entirely due to the selfless care of the Pangolin Conservation & Research Foundation. Four months ago, the situation looked very different. In early March, Sparky got caught in an electric fence, which is essentially a death sentence for pangolins.

“Sparky is the first pangolin in Namibia that we’ve heard of to survive an electric shock. We don’t know how,” says Kelsey Prediger, founder and chair of the PCRF. “Normally, pangolins roll around the fence and are literally being shocked to death. But miraculously, Sparky survived until he came to us. We didn’t think he would make it,” Prediger said. Sparky was, in fact, in terrible shape. “He had fluid in his heart, so there was potential heart damage. He had fluid in his lungs and probably in his brain as well. On top of that, he had a septic wound on his tail and an ulcer on his eye,” Prediger explains.

“He couldn’t walk or eat. When he tried to walk, he’d move in circles or just topple over.” He did try to eat, Prediger says, but his tongue had been so damaged by the electric shock that it curled up instead, making it impossible to catch ants or termites that way. So things really didn’t look good at all for Sparky, but the PCRF opted for intensive care. If Sparky didn’t give up, the PCRF wasn’t going to give up either. “He had this unshakeable spark of will to live. And we never give up on an animal that hasn’t given up on itself,” Prediger said. “If an animal wants to live, we’ll fight for it.”

Easier said than done – Sparky's health was a monumental veterinary challenge. Even in intensive care, the pangolin initially lost a significant amount of weight and struggled with deficiency symptoms and potential organ damage. But after two months of touch-and-go, improvements began to set in. “In May, for the first time, I could imagine that Sparky might actually make it.” And in a highly complicated, time-consuming, and expensive process, Sparky began to recover. The veterinary bills alone totalled 100,000 Namibian dollars—but it was worth it. His weight crept up on the scale slowly but surely, and his wounds healed. Sparky was walking around again, chasing ants. And suddenly, his true personality came to the fore: deeply relaxed, affectionate, and goofy. Sparky was the class clown of the PCRF, no doubt about it.

And now, as the winds pick up in Namibia, the horizons turn dusty, and the nights grow colder, the time has finally come. It’s late July, and the PCRF can announce with absolute certainty and unabashed joy: Sparky, in high spirits and in perfect health, is ready for the next big step—release into the wild. The PCRF, which works closely with the Namibian Ministry of the Environment (MEFT), has many years of experience with cases like Sparky's and with their successful rehabilitation and release into the wild. The feisty pangolin, who now weighs a whopping 11.3 kilograms, is already the 47th of 48 pangolins rescued by the PCRF. “For the first 16 animals, the survival rate was only 40%. But in 2023, we were able to convince the government that we needed to implement better-structured veterinary care and a more targeted rehabilitation programme. Since then, we’ve been able to raise the survival rate of the animals we’ve rescued to over 90%,” explains Prediger. “The key is close monitoring of the animals even after they’ve been released into the wild. This way, we can ensure that the animals are doing well, even after they’ve completed our rehabilitation programme."

Sparky, too, is set to return to the wild through a “soft release.” Unlike a “hard release,” where the animal is simply set free immediately without introduction, support, or monitoring, the PCRF has already familiarized the animal with its new home as part of the “soft release” process. Equipped with GPS and VHF, Sparky will continue to be closely monitored even after his release, so that action can be taken should anything happen to him. “We want to make very sure that he actually survives,” says Prediger.

After all, pangolins – with their eight subspecies worldwide – are extremely at risk. They are the most trafficked mammals in the world. Temminck‘s pangolins, like Sparky, are classified as endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature. This is because they fall victim not only to poaching but also to the very electric fences that nearly proved fatal to Sparky.

The PCRF cites a study indicating that one pangolin dies annually for every eleven kilometres of electric fence. “In South Africa, more pangolins die from electric fences than from poaching,” says Prediger – a threat that most people are completely unaware of. “I know it’s a difficult compromise to reconcile the fencing regulations that apply to keeping carnivores in Namibia—and, of course, the protection of wildlife—with the need to protect pangolins. But it is certainly possible. One solution is to install a lower wire at a height of 10 to 15 centimetres and to start the first actual live wire at a height of 30 centimetres," she recommends. While electric fences pose an enormous—yet so far far too overlooked—danger to pangolins, their thoughtful design can save lives.

On this mild July evening, Sparky—in good spirits and playful as always—is fitted with a tracking device and loaded into a pickup truck in his transport crate. In the west, the sun is already setting blood-red as the PCRF arrives at the spot they’ve chosen for Sparky’s release: safe, protected by anti-poaching units, spacious, rich in ants and termites, and consistent with the habitat where Sparky belongs. The PCRF always releases its pangolins in the evening—after all, pangolins are nocturnal and sleep during the day. As the moon is already high in the sky, the bars of the transport crate open, and while the PCRF team almost holds its breath with joy at this special moment, Sparky strolls carefree into the darkness, eagerly searching for termites. The PCRF follows him for quite a while to make sure that Sparky is truly comfortable, feeding successfully, and settling in.

And that he does. Because when the team returns to check on Sparky the next morning—guided to within a metre by the GPS transmitter—he is sleeping peacefully in a burrow that seems tailor-made for him, which he discovered on his first night. Freedom can begin. Sparky has earned it.