PUEBLA, Mexico -- It was the stuff of a major film studio’s next animation project: Nine African baby elephants orphaned after their parents were poached, but then miraculously rescued to a wild game park in Latin America. In the highlands of central Mexico, pee wee pachyderms the size of Volkswagen Beetles could wander around, wide-eyed as they munched on tortillas and donned sombreros in their new home.

Except that the government of Namibia, where they came from, says it didn’t happen that way.

The nine elephants that made a big media splash last week lumbering off a cargo plane, on their way to a reserve in Puebla, were the result of a commercial sale. Despite reports to the contrary, the creatures had never been truly, fully free. They also aren’t babies, but youngsters ranging from 4 to 10 years old, said Boas Erkki, deputy director at the Namibian Ministry of Environment and Tourism.

The elephants were sold by the original owner, a farm, to the Namib Game Services private reserve and their mothers were not poached, Erkki told The Associated Press. The Namib Game Services sold the animals because they didn’t have enough space to keep them, he said.

Even without the poachers, the elephants had a pretty good tale. They spent 24 hours in tight quarters as they flew over the Atlantic in a chartered jet. They had stopovers in Brazil and Chile. Then a two-hour truck drive to the city of Puebla before they arrived at their new home at Africam Safari, a 900-acre wildlife preserve whose name is a combination of Africa and the family name of the park’s owner – Frank Carlos Camacho.

The delivery was the brainchild of Camacho, whose preserve is just south of Mexico City.

The unlikely African acquisition began when Debbie Olson, director of the International Elephant Foundation based outside Fort Worth, Texas, learned of nine young elephants in Namibia that needed a new home. She put out the word to her board of directors, which includes Camacho.

Camacho had always planned to add a couple of elephants to his wildlife preserve, where ostriches, lemurs, giraffes, zebras and monkeys roam in spacious containment areas to the delight of visitors.

What appeared to be a marketer’s dream-come-true soon soured, when the government of Namibia complained that news reports wrongly said the elephants were orphaned and Camacho was rescuing them.

Camacho denies telling journalists that the elephants’ parents were killed by poachers. But he did use the term “rescue” and that has proved controversial.

“In no way can this export be considered to be a ‘rescue’ mission, nor were these elephants orphans,” said a Namibian government press release. “These young elephants were in good condition at the time of leaving Namibia and were not at risk of being destroyed by this Ministry.”

Camacho said he learned that the private preserve was offering up the animals because it was too small to maintain them. In May, Camacho flew to central Namibia to check out his little herd, and discovered they already had become a family.

The oldest elephant, about 10, is the size of a minivan and had been nicknamed “Big Boy” – clearly the leader of the pack. The youngest, “Chico,” or “Little Boy,” is 4 years old. The pack included one other male and six females.