Where are the humans in the hierarchy?

Today, former staff member Anthony gave away a morning off to volunteer. If you were a fan of Anthony and his blog writing while he was on staff, you know that he had a certain fondness for Honey B, and she certainly reciprocates the sentiment – she’s always excited to receive a visit from her old friend.

Honey B is a chimpanzee who is very demonstrative – you can tell when she’s happy and you can definitely tell when she is mad.

I was sharing a story with Anthony about something that happened just the other day. I was sitting outside of the caregiver house where J.B. and I live when J.B. went up to see the chimpanzees for the first time after being away for two weeks. The house is not far from the chimp house, but it’s not right next door either. I’m not great at estimating distances, but I would say if were in in a city, the two buildings would be about a half a block away. When I heard an excited (and very loud) pant hoot coming from the chimp house, I knew exactly who was emitting the sound and why. Honey B had spotted J.B. and they were greeting each other as though they had been apart for a year.

This story led to Anthony and I talking about Honey B, Honey B’s preference for men, and the hazing that she does with some people, the results of which look like this:

For reference, if you don’t remember or haven’t seen the above photo before, that would be Krissy adorned with a mouthful of breakfast smoothie, care of benevolent Ms. B.

J.B. and I were trained that the humans who care for chimpanzees in captivity should consider themselves at the bottom of the chimpanzees’ hierarchy and should act accordingly, with proper deference and subservience. We have carried through a similar philosophy to Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest. However, you can read this blog post from several years ago about the complications of trying to place dominance in a linear line. Considering the social primates that chimpanzees are, an interesting question to ponder is what they themselves perceive in terms of the status of the humans within their social sphere, both in relation to themselves and amongst the humans as our own separate troop.

Honey B is known, probably even for a casual blog reader, for her mischievousness and her ability to state, in no uncertain terms, that she very much does, indeed, have a level of power over the lowly humans who look after her. I know from experience with chimpanzees I have known previously that it can be quite humbling to be put in this position, a mere peon relegated to the outer circle of affection. In truth, though I am not of her favored gender and are therefore not greeted with the same level of exuberance, Honey B seems to have placed me in her personal hierarchy above those who regularly receive her ire (THANK YOU, HONEY B!).

Honey B is not the only chimpanzee at the sanctuary who treats humans differently based on what appears to be either an internally-decided or an externally-perceived ranking. For those of us who knew Lucky when she first came to Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest, we couldn’t have envisioned a chimpanzee with such a demeanor sweeter than hers.

As soon as we began training new staff and volunteers, however, another side of sweet Lucky came out that was quite a surprise. When I asked Krissy (the most recent trainee on door shifting) how she would describe this side of Lucky, Krissy replied, “out for blood.”

Lucky will jump at the mesh towards those who she deems below her. She will try to poke them, and she will vocalize her unhappiness if they do something displeasing to her, which is almost always the caregiver attempting to do something quite nice, like give her some food.

I don’t begrudge this side of Lucky or any other chimpanzee. I bet Krissy will be moving up in the ranks as soon as another poor human initiate comes along that is more deserving of Lucky’s scorn, and Krissy and Lucky’s relationship will be all the more precious for it.

As for Honey B, I’m not willing to wager.