I can’t tell you how many times I have wished that Jamie would just go to bed.
On a typical day, we close off the chimps’ outdoor habitats around the time that they bed down for the night in the greenhouses and indoor playrooms. Given the sanctuary’s relative proximity to a public road and the unfortunate abundance of rattlesnakes in the area, we require at least two staff members to be on duty at the chimp house when the chimps are in the habitats so we can respond promptly to an emergency. Diana and I are on site nearby overnight, but we need to sleep, too.
If the chimps decline to go to bed after dinner, and instead decide to stay outside, the staff put in a little overtime. For most of the year, shorter days and cooler nighttime temperatures discourage late-night outdoor activities. But summer demands them.
Jamie has always had unique ways of exerting control over her caregivers. Some are obvious, like a spit in the face or a well-aimed handful of feces. Others are more subtle. Most nights, Jamie has a list of last-minute demands as we are closing up for the night. It could be a favorite pair of boots or a page torn from one of her books about bonobos. It’s not the items themselves that matter; if it were she could easily ask for them earlier in the day. It’s her way of deciding when the workday is over.
We’ll do just about anything to get Jamie what she needs before bed, but we could still close the chimp house door and walk away if we were so inclined. Not so when the chimps are on Young’s Hill. Jamie has been here for 17 years. She knows the rules, and how to use them to her advantage.
There have been summers when Jamie would keep us late almost every day of the week. If we were lucky she’d let us off after a couple extra hours. Other times we’d be here until 10pm, with only the moon to light our paths. And by late summer, after months of these long workdays, we’d be praying for Jamie to lose just a bit of her stamina. As we’d crest the top of Young’s Hill on our third or fourth walk of the evening, I’d look down to see the glow from my living room window. I’d imagine sitting down to dinner or sipping a cold beer on the porch. I’d imagine climbing into my own bed.
But with the flick of her wrist, Jamie would insist that we march onward.
Jamie was a walking machine then. Her record was 14 laps in a day, which adds up to about 3.5 miles up and down a hill with a more than 100-ft elevation gain. These days she rests more. She’ll make us wait while she climbs a tower and watches the sun set over the mountains. I don’t know if she’s gained more of an appreciation for the natural beauty of our surroundings or if she just needs an excuse to catch her breath. Perhaps it’s just another control tactic. Whatever the reason, these are some of my favorite moments.
Jamie and I were both 30 years old when we met. When you’re 30 you only think about the future. I’m speaking for the both of us here, but of course we can’t know for certain what chimpanzees think about. She certainly had nothing in her past worth remembering.
Now that we’re both a lot closer to 50, the walks feel different. There are fewer of them, and they feel more special. I can’t help but feel that for Jamie, too, they are imbued with nostalgia.
In hindsight, I can’t believe how much I used to hope that Jamie would let us go home on time. Now when she watches me close the door, I want to ask her:
Are you sure you don’t want to take another walk?
Beautifully written J.B., I believe I had a few tears in my eyes. Jamie is too smart for her own good! The pictures were spectacular. I don’t think I have seen pictures of the outdoor area before. Thank you!
Look uo “Sunset Racing”!
J.B., this just might be my favorite post of all. You brought tears to my eyes. I love Jamie very deeply. The image of her walking at sunset is take your breath away and squeeze your heart beautiful! Sigh… Thanks for sharing this special passing of time and your close bond with Jamie, the task master of the nighttime patrols. (Where does the time go?!)
This post has my fav things, about Jamie, and written by J.B. :revolving_hearts:
A youtube of Foxie was what first brought me to CSNW, but it was Jamie that kept me here. I find her endlessly facinating. Her brain is incredible.
And another beautifully written blog from JB has made me quite teary to think that age is catching up with Jamie and she is slowing down.
How sweet, insightful and wonderful that you share these life experiences with a special chimp like Jaime. She maybe a strong and tough boss of all of us but how great that you both understand these special times with each other as one would with any family member or friend.
J.B., that was beautiful. Thank you for sharing these moments with us.
Thank you JB
Sounds like you’ve each found a way to appreciate the beauty of each other. Jamie may or may not know how her manipulation affects you, but she knows you treat her with love and you respect her choices, choices she never had before CSNW. And you in turn are seeing her behavior dictated by age.
Your patience is extraordinary. I’ve known parents who would have lost it by now with a child who refuses bed time.
Even when you are weary, I hope the beauty of a great sundown is some consolation Now go have a beer and a rest.
I really loved todays blog. Well written and heartwarming. Thank you.
Beautiful blog about an amazing lady. Jamie is truly one of a kind. Her determination and intelligence never ceases to amaze me. She might not always be the easiest to get along with, but I appreciate that about her, too.
Same!
Thank you, JB! Hearing these stories brings tears, smiles and allows us to feel a real part of the family!
What keeps us coming back!
you must’ve been reading my mind! I’ve been wondering about Jamie and her patrols. Hadn’t heard of many lately. I thought perhaps it just wasn’t being blogged about because we got the lucky six and then we got George and there’s just a lot of other things to blog about. but yes, I did consider that she may just be slowing down a bit. She is definitely keeping you on your toes up on the hill and back down again and up again. you do it all for her, and she is keeping you fit.
J.B., I have now reread this post more than I care to admit. Geez. It is so poignant. Makes me cry. I will never forget the blog about Jamie’s very first nighttime walk. I can see that photograph clearly of Jamie, face against the mesh in darkness, a flashlight illuminating her and a spark in eyes!
I have to ask a question because I am a hopeless, romantic. I know there’s no way to answer it. But. Could it be possible that Jamie likes her nighttime-sunset patrols because she doesn’t want her human caregivers to leave? On the nighttime patrol she has you all to herself. Could the whole experience also give her comfort, an extra feeling of belonging to the human side of the sanctuary? A special treat where she can share/experience the transition to darkness with all of you? The beauty and magic of it all. Maybe she feels like we did when we were children and we stayed out late as it became darker and darker. It’s quietly thrilling!
Every night you all leave, but Jamie remains. Perhaps walking the hill with you at night gives her an inner feeling of strength and power within the natural world? Perhaps it reaches something wild that’s within her that she enjoys holding onto.
Please tell me it’s all of the above. Thank you to every caregiver who had to work OT after an already long day, just to give Jamie whatever special rush she gets out of her nighttime walks. You are all so magnificent. I am certain Jamie would agree.
Her smush face for JB against the window as he cleaned the loft during the pandemic made me realize that JB and Diana are special in Jamie’s eyes. Maybe she recognizes that they’re “the bosses” of the humans, the way she’s The Boss on the chimp side. Like the coworkers she chooses to spend time with outside of work.
Yes to all of the above, Kathleen. You are exactly right.
Seriously, I love Jamie so deeply it hurts. I am saving this post. And I adore her little alfalfa sprout at the top of her head!
We hate to see them get old. And ourselves, too.
All those other times, you needed rest. You needed to get to home things–dogs need exercise, too, paperwork. Dinner. Bed.
But Jamie needed one more walk. Then some raspberries, bc season is here. Then another walk. A drink. Another walk.
I’m glad you’re no longer running the hill at night in the dark. Jamie dictates the pace.
But if you ever need to liven things up again, she’s already told you how to take it to the next level. Just get that chainsaw, bro!