Chad de Bree

I apologize in advance if I’m going to sound like a bumbling fool in today’s blog. This one isn’t going to be easy for me.

My dearest Jody/Jo/JoJo/Joji/Farmer Jo. It hasn’t even been a full year since you left, and my only hope is to be able to formulate my thoughts in a coherent way to fully encapsulate just what an amazing being you have been.

Jody was born some time in 1975. Her records during this time were spotty, so it is believed Jody was likely wild caught. During the first 33 years of her life was spent with the Buckshire Corporation in Pennsylvania. It was there Jody was lent out to different medical laboratories for hepatitis testing, including the notorious and (thankfully) now defunct Alamogordo Primate Facility. During her time in medical testing, Jody was used as a breeder, meaning she was forced pregnancy upon to her with the only intention for her children to become test subjects themselves. In her life, Jody became pregnant 11 times, giving birth to nine and miscarrying two. Her children Andrea, Bart, and Clay, were rescued by Save the Chimps. Her son, Levi, was rescued after a long fight to have him released after he was transferred from Alamogordo to a laboratory in Texas in stead of sanctuary. Thankfully, Levi was rescued and now lives his best life at Chimp Haven. Unfortunately, her other children, April, Adam, and Opy, were not able to experience sanctuary life and passed away before getting the chance. We currently do not know the whereabouts, history, or status of her remaining two children, Cliff and Taylor.

It’s obvious to me these kids got their good looks from their mom.

Jody arrived at Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest in 2008 with the rest of the Cle Elum Seven. It was here Jody was able to live out her remaining days without fear of routine knockdowns and being forced into pregnancy to only give up her child. She gained the titles “Den Mother” and “Manager” to her group by caregivers because of the way she was able to ease tense situations or make a distraction from it. From my point of view, Jody seemed very fair when determining who was at fault starting a fight or protecting individuals who were unduly blamed by the rest of the group for causing a ruckus. There were countless times I witnessed Jody deflect the rest of the group’s attention from Foxie during a fight to herself, giving Foxie time to get away.

She also looked after Negra carefully. Jody seemed to know what would make Negra over stimulated or give her a scare, and do all that she could keep an eye on her and prevent any negative feeling Negra might feel.

Jody was a a master forager, hence the nickname “Farmer Jo.” If Jody did have a favorite food, it would be whatever food she got herself; something she was denied to do the first 30+ years of her life.  Jody loved to pick out her own food, whether it was food caregivers put out onto Young’s Hill or things that naturally grow on Young’s Hill.

And let’s not forget, Jody was the master nest builder of any chimpanzee that has called CSNW home.

And the Great Pumpkin Thief!

There are so many stories I could tell about my time with Jody. One though sticks out in particular though. It was during the summer a few years ago. Katelyn and I were standing right outside the entrance to the building. The sky was cloudy and the air was still. It was that feeling of right before a storm hits. Katelyn and I were looking out onto Young’s Hill and Foxie was about to set off on one of her own adventures. Out of nowhere, the was a blur that raced toward Foxie. It was Jody. Jody put her arm around Foxie and redirected her back to the indoors, looking over her should every few feet to ensure Foxie was still following. Not long after that, a thunderstorm hit. Katelyn and I summed it up Jody being the den mother that she was, running after Foxie and in her own chimpanzee way was yelling, “FOXIE! GET INSIDE!”

I only knew Jody for six of her 15 years here at CSNW. I fell and fell hard for Jody when I first met her. I mean, who wouldn’t? Always miss her. Everyday, when I walk into work, there will always be a part of me that feels it is missing. I can no longer get Jody’s enthusiastic bouncing to greet caregivers or kiss she would give me, especially if I had been a way for a while. I can no longer get lost in the sounds of her content of the low moan or “dinosaur noise.” I am self-aware enough to know I have not accepted or processed her passing, thus I haven’t grieved yet. (Side note: I do not recommend this avenue of approach. If you are going through a mental crisis, please seek help. There are many resources out there that can and will help.) I know eventually I will have to come to terms with everything so my own mental health doesn’t decline, and I’m hoping this blog is my first step toward recovery.

I was only part of Jody’s life for a fraction of it. She will, however, always be a part of mine for my remaining days on this earth.

I will miss and love you eternally, my sweet Joji. Grunts and hoots forever.

A big thank you to those who continue to be Jody’s Chimpanzee Pal:

Vicki, Monica, Chris & Lee Ann, Donna, Sandy, Sharlene, Sandy, Barbara, Rebecca, Amy, Jean, Laura, Shari, Jill, and Carole.

Though she is gone, she is not forgotten. You can still become Jody’s Pal in her memory by signing up here!