In celebration of August

Here we are, midsummer. As we go through these days like ripples in the heatwaves, I sometimes am grateful for the slowing down of body and time. All the better to be in awe. Breath becomes cicada whir, eyes become wings surfing thermals, heartbeat becomes chimpanzee friends slowly moving through the tall grass, or resting, at ease in a hoped for breeze in the heat of the day.

On August 8th, Foxie, in some alternate universe, is turning 48. The other day I came across a cherished long-ago video on my phone of her and I goofing around. I was doing some silly dance she liked as she cheered me on with the most epic play-face, both of us laughing, breathless. I’m not even sure if I was actually a staff member yet or still a volunteer. I think it was around my summer as an intern at the Chimpanzee and Human Communication Institute at Central Washington University – among the last fortunate people to go through that program before Tatu and Loulis moved to Fauna Foundation in Quebec, where they still happily reside today. Foxie and I had a lot less gray hair then, our crazy play sessions took a little less effort, but our hearts remain as wildly happy in such moments.

Just as in all our lives, some days at the sanctuary are unspeakably hard. Some are indescribably wonderful. Most fall somewhere along the middle of the spectrum. But some, are unexpected magic. The kind of days that you cannot believe what you’re witnessing one of the chimpanzees do, let alone that you’re so fortunate to be caught up in their presence at that precise moment. Those are the days my heart beats for. The fleeting moments of them doing something completely unexpected, yet entirely shining as their true selves. All because they have true sanctuary which you help make possible for them.

The other day was one such day (which Grace mentioned in her blog post). And before you ask, it was the one out of 1,000 times I didn’t have my phone on me to capture anything, so I was radioing everyone wildly, poor Grace and Chad, both scurrying to get there with the cameras in time. Burrito and I were on a walk around the hill when he suddenly stopped and stood up, looking back down the hill. Then we spotted Foxie heading our way and we waited for her, but she peeled off and headed toward one of their new structures. It reminded me so much of that day she and Jody headed to the Twister with a clear plan in mind (Foxie climbing to the top for the first – maybe only? – time).

Burrito and I watched her climb the structure, take a pause and then climb right up on the roof! Now you might be thinking, “She’s a chimpanzee, big deal…”, but the extra special thing about this moment is that the roof is made of fire hose woven together. Foxie doesn’t do fire hose! She doesn’t care for structures that move or feel unsteady and for someone who spent the first thirty years of her life in a cage, well, it *is* a pretty big deal! She is cautiously adventurous, I’m sure due in large part to that past. And she is also curious and brave, because she is not her past, she is Foxie.

Well, Burrito went to join her and not only did she sit up on that roof, she cautiously walked across it with a wild Burrito swinging around on it below her! (Burrito’s style of support looks a little different than Jody’s!). And just like that day on the Twister, I yipped and cheered her on and she looked at me, gave an emphatic nod of her head and thumped the roof as if acknowledging her achievement. Thankfully, Grace captured a brief moment:

Later in the day, Foxie met me in the chimps’ front room enclosures for a game of chase. She immediately got a huge mouthful of water (which usually means prepare yourself for a huge spritz in the face), but then she sat down, swishing her mouthful of water from side to side, eyes cast upward, thinking, with that look she gets when she’s considering doing something outrageous, like a back-flip. While a classic Foxie move, back-flips understandably aren’t something we see her doing as often as she used to, but then she looked at me and smiled, spritzed me in the face with water and flipped! Spritz! Flip! Spritz! Flip! A Foxie whirlygig! Who knows, maybe she spotted Simone Biles in all her strength and eloquence while watching TV with Burrito and felt her own magic humming in her bones.

All of this is to say, sixteen years after arriving to the sanctuary, now at the almost age of 48 she continues to amaze and delight not only us, but most importantly, herself. May this be her Foxie life for all her days forward.

Next up, on August 18th, we celebrate Mave, Willy B, and Honey B’s 5th anniversary since they arrived home to us!

It’s incredible to take in all they’ve courageously navigated in this relatively short time.

Much to Mave‘s joyous heart, she’s morphed into Mora (aka Mave and Dora). Not long before they arrived here, Mave had lost her closest long-time friend, Goliath. I cannot fathom how hard that must have been for her. And in Dora she seems to have found her person again. She’s since been a different person than who first arrived here. I suspect, herself again.

And as part of the Day of Wonder mentioned above, we also caught sight of Mave sitting out on the Bray all on her own, maybe watching the neighbors climb new heights (it was also the first time we’ve seen Burrito climb a tree!), mustering the will after all this time to venture past the Gates of Dora, who in small part, used to deter her from venturing into the scary great outdoors. Maybe one of these days Dora will choose to join her, but as is the foundation of sanctuary, it will be her choice and timing.

Greeting Cy:

And Willy B, from his first months outside in the “grass is lava” stage:

He’s overcome so much (understandable) fear about touching the ground and we even saw him adventuring afield on his own the other day, as Diana wrote about in her recent blog post, in his new “I’ve always loved walking on grass” stage. Can you imagine the courage this would take?!:

And Honey B! This mind-blowingly intelligent, intrepid, curious woman amazes, surprises, terrifies and delights us daily. She’s also begun venturing outdoors this year, though perhaps as an unintended result of chasing the guys out in a fury (still counts!). She continues to bravely navigate any and all options that come her way, from making friends, calling the shots of her day, hip-checking guys twice her size, to keeping us humans on our toes by always being on the lookout for any contraband she can get her Honey B hands on, just to name a few.

As you’ve probably seen us mention before, one of the most challenging aspects of caring for captive chimpanzees is keeping their intelligent and curious minds active. I suspect Honey B would probably say something like, “One of the most challenging things about caring for human caregivers is keeping their pitifully slower, but well intentioned minds up to speed.” Thank you, Honey B, for always encouraging our capacities for neuroplasticity!

And on August 23rd, Missy (Honey B’s mama), in that same alternate universe, is turning 49! Year after year we’ve had the great privilege of watching Missy rip, climb and zoom, up, down and across, legs flying in her wake, the tail of the comet in her heart. It’s really something special to watch, the awe of her in a blur of freedom.

When we lead guests on summer visits we often point out one of the transfer cages that Missy and her group arrived in. It sits next to our ancient old barn, grass growing up through the bottom like those eerie abandoned buildings some people like to haunt. It’s about the size of a bathroom stall and while it is a transfer cage, it is also the equivalent to what the chimpanzees spent 30 years of their lives in while in biomedical research. In the very few seconds I can bear to envision this, I think for Missy, it must have been a fate worse than anything else they did to her.

Sometimes when I catch the distant speck of her racing down the hill as fast as she can, my eyes squeeze tight with the stinging of joy for her, the grass rippling in her wake. This, I think, is her greatest joy. The freedom to run just because she can. Well, that and tomatoes. I’m all but certain if you told Missy she was getting nothing else to eat for the rest of her life except tomatoes she wouldn’t believe her good fortune.

The first time she climbed a tree, at 46!:

We’ve welcomed many new followers to the chimpanzees’ lives recently and whether you’re new or have been with us for years, we are so very thankful you are here. You all never cease to amaze us with the countless ways in which you support the chimpanzees and cows. And humans!

If you share an August birthday with Foxie and Missy, we’re celebrating you, too! And whether you find yourself midsummer or midwinter, I hope among whatever else you find yourself experiencing, you are finding moments that make your hearts shimmer.

“Despite so much embroidery telling us to “choose joy” – you just can’t. Joy is part of the magic of being human. You never know when it will hit, and the surprise will leave you utterly delighted.” ~ Kate Bowler.