Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest
Hope. Love. Home. Sanctuary for primates.
Goofballs. Goobers. Dorks. Clowns. Weirdos. Free spirits.
Whatever you call them, there’s no doubt that Honey B, Mave and Willy B know how to have fun. We’ve been focusing so much lately on Willy B’s exciting forays “into the great outdoors” that I decided to share some clips of his group being playful and rowdy earlier today.
Please enjoy the video, everyone!
Right now, I know that many folks are struggling to adjust to the new normal: a degree of social isolation, economic strife and general mistrust that rails against our innate drives to be together. No matter what we believe should be happening right now, I think it’s safe to say that most of us are frustrated, worried, and even exasperated. We want this to be over, but it won’t end.
Instead, we must look at our own lifestyles, identify the things that truly bring us fulfillment, and work to keep those fires lit even as boredom, anxiety, loneliness and grief do their best to snuff them out.
Amid this uncertain period of perpetual unease, one new development in particular is giving us all some inspiration: the methodical progress and unexpected bravery of Willy B.
I could sit here writing about this chapter of Willy B’s story for hours on end. Given the gradual adjustment of the three new chimpanzees to life at CSNW, punctuated by a couple heartbreaking setbacks, Willy’s recent exploits have given his tale the flavor of an odyssey. It’s now a epic saga of sorts, complete with a courageous, endearing and hairy little hero. Lately, he seems to be on a vague quest with a yet undetermined goal.
In recent weeks, I think that other staff have done an amazing job describing each step in his journey. If you’re looking to catch up, I suggest skimming the previous blog posts about Willy, the Courtyard, and the tall wooden structure that he is gradually conquering one ladder rung at a time. If you are really feeling ambitious, you could skip back to last June when we first announced that we would be welcoming three chimpanzees from the Wildlife Waystation, including a mysterious dominant male named Willy B.
Today, I’m focusing on one particular chapter describing one short event. It occurred over the span of an hour today in the Courtyard.
We’ve been setting food items in small caches throughout the Courtyard to entice Willy B and the others to explore. Gradually, Willy B’s bottomless appetite is leading him to venture into parts unknown. He recently made sporadic forays out onto the boardwalk until he determined that each section was safe. He then grew comfortable sitting at the end of the boardwalk and began to investigate the base of the multi-tiered wooden structure that it leads to. Last week, he climbed the tower, and he has been slowly acclimatizing to the new sensations of sitting on wood decking, perching high above the ground, and being able to see clear over the Chimp House. He’s made tremendous progress, but there are still areas of the Courtyard that he has yet to explore. For example, the structure has two thin spits of decking that jut out toward the rest of Young’s Hill. These pier-like extensions are connected by a web of twisted vines (“the ropes”) and a large hammock, all made from repurposed firehose.
Here is an old photo of caregiver Chad testing out the hammock after it was first made and hung inside the building. It was moved outdoors when we realized that the chimps didn’t seem interested unless we placed food on it.
Today, I placed a whole apple on the hammock. Willy B will do almost anything for an apple, but I wasn’t sure if he’d have the confidence to go after this one. He’s an athletic and intelligent individual with a bold personality, but he’s not as skilled at climbing as an adult chimpanzee should be.
Well, he tried. He tried hard.
First, he scouted the area.
Then, he tested whether the new sections of decking were safe to sit on. They were.
Suddenly, shockingly, Willy B dropped down below the decking and swung himself over towards the hammock.
He was so close. But then, with the visible apple just out of reach, he turned back. It seems that he wasn’t yet confident in his ability to make the final swing over to the hammock. From the safety of the decking, he surveyed the area from above a second time.
He dropped down again and swung back to the hammock, gripping the firehose vines with his chubby chimpanzee feet.
This wasn’t the right moment to try out the hammock, though. He backtracked all the way to the safest spot in the Courtyard at the base of the structure. There, he checked in on the neighbors, nibbled on a slice of tomato, and let out a muted display.
After expressing himself as only a chimpanzee can, he gave the ropes another try.
Again, he retreated and regrouped.
He mustered up the bravery and strength to make one more push. He got so close, but seemed hesitant to put any weight on the hammock and did not reach out to grab the apple.
Willy b even thought about lowering himself to the ground to find a new route over to the hammock, but he apparently decided the dirt and grass were too strange for today. He paused, suspended from the decking with his toes skimming the blades of grass, and then hoisted himself back up without ever planting his heels on the firm ground below.
Fortunately for Willy B, he gets several apples each day (along with many other nutritious foods). Importantly, he’ll get another shot at the elusive hammock apple for as many days as he needs. If he’s ambitious enough, he’ll conquer the ropes tomorrow just as he has so many other unusual obstacles in his path. We’re hopeful that he will eventually grow to enjoy climbing and exploring even without the promise of a shiny red apple to propel him forward, just as a chimpanzee should. Either way, I look forward to watching the saga continue.
Willy B has gotten a lot more confident in the courtyard. He usually just marches right out there like he’s been doing it for years. He does, however, still stick to the boardwalk and usually keeps to the parts of the platform by the posts.
So today we decided to scatter pieces of food (instead of one whole piece of fruit) all over both tiers of the platform.
The photos that J.B. took today are in sequence and tell the story of Willy B’s exploration for the day. You can see he gathered the food and then ate it in his comfortable spots near the post, but still, he went to the middle of the platforms. We’ll continue to push his comfort zone in different ways so that he gets used to being on the grass too. Little by little.
The last photo in the sequence shows what a great view there is at the top of that structure. I wonder how he feels when he’s up there.
This sanctuary is full of mothers. We spent the day honoring them.
For those of you who may not already know, five of the sanctuary’s ten chimpanzee residents (Annie, Foxie, Jody, Missy, Negra) were used for breeding in their past lives as biomedical research subjects. All of their children were taken from them immediately after birth, thus denying them the ability to care for and raise their offspring. Their infants were raised in laboratories as a scientific resource, but this practice was incrementally brought to a halt. Some of their sons and daughters made it to sanctuaries where several are still enjoying their retirements.
Missy’s daughter, Honey B, was transferred to this sanctuary last summer when the facility that previously cared for her, the Wildlife Waystation, permanently shut down. It was unfortunate that so many individuals lost their homes, but it was serendipitous that we were finishing a new wing of enclosures exactly when Honey B and her companions needed it most. (Note: The sanctuary community is currently raising funds that will care for the Waystation’s remaining chimpanzees and help create new homes for them at reputable sanctuaries. You can visit this page to learn more!) Missy and Honey B were able to meet, but it’s unlikely that they recognized each other. Amid the drama of attempting to integrate their two groups, their face-to-face meeting was relatively uneventful. Still, we sometimes notice that Honey B has a tinge of Missy infused in her personality and appearance. There are many ways in which they differ, but Honey B occasionally behaves with a Missy-like flavor. Notably, they both play chase the same way. Today, Chad managed to capture portraits of the two in the same pose and posted it on the sanctuary’s Instagram, so you can all see it for yourselves.
Today’s festivities weren’t centered around that relationship alone. Every year, we celebrate Jody‘s birthday on Mother’s Day. Nobody knows Jody’s real birthday, but we do know that she gave birth to nine infants during her time in the laboratory. All were taken from her. We would never allow the chimpanzees to breed since we would be furthering a practice that we aim to end and condemning yet another chimpanzee individual to a life of captivity. Nevertheless, Jody possesses a tender maternal spirit and serves as a guardian and peacemaker within her group of seven adult chimps. It seems like Jody was born for motherhood and, despite her tragic past, she has found a new way to fulfill that duty with enthusiasm.
The chimps aren’t the only ones who have brought new life into this world. The sanctuary’s small herd of four cattle consists of two mother-offspring pairs; the enormous steer Nutmeg is Betsy’s son and Meredith is Honey’s daughter. Among the humans, current staff members Erin and Anna are mothers to children of their own when they aren’t busy caring for chimps. Recently, we received the good news that our friend and former coworker, Keri, joyously welcomed her second child, Skyler, into her family. This is just one of the many ways by which the CSNW family continues to grow.
For all of these reasons and more, today is an important day to celebrate mothers of all species, whether they were allowed to raise their own children or not.
Chad, our Enrichment Coordinator, assembled a celebratory forage of lilac flowers, corn, bell peppers, and sweet potatoes. Honey B and Mave tried lilacs for the first time and loved them, although Willy B wouldn’t even give them a taste and seemed way more interested in climbing the outdoor structure yet again. Of course, Jody savored her floral snacks while her six companions scoured the Hill for caches of food. As a whole, the chimps thoroughly enjoyed the midday celebration and spent most of the afternoon resting and foraging in the warm sunshine of late spring. I have included some photographs of today’s events (taken by Katelyn, Chad, and I).
Whether you are a mother or not, we hope you enjoyed this celebratory Sunday and showed appreciation for the people who shaped you into the person you are today.
The sanctuary has a relatively small staff, so each of us knows how to do the essential duties and can safely manage the sanctuary on any given day.
Still, we all have certain skills and interests that translate to specialized roles apart from the core caregiving responsibilities. Anna leads the volunteers and staff, Katelyn manages the office, Kelsi coordinates our outreach program, Chad curates the enrichment program and has a mustache, Dr. Erin is the dedicated veterinarian, and I have started focusing on projects related to animal health and behavior. At the helm of all this are the sanctuary’s co-directors who do most things as a team (although Diana is chiefly responsible for the development of the organization while J.B. primarily oversees the sanctuary’s operations).
It’s somewhat unusual for sanctuary directors to participate in activities like cleaning enclosures, maintaining the property and folding laundry. Anyone who knows Diana and J.B., however, won’t be surprised to read that they are still involved in various tasks around the sanctuary on a daily basis. For example, it’s not unusual to see J.B. play chase with Burrito, fly the drone, do hours of office work, hang up safety signs, drive to Wenatchee to pick up produce, help serve chimp dinner, weld together a Foot Box, and then mow the lawn in the span of a single work day. Diana and J.B. have regular shifts when they are scheduled to do chimpanzee care, but that doesn’t prevent them from helping out on most of the days in between. Sometimes, they even do things for the chimpanzee and bovine residents when we’re not expecting them to be working at all.
That’s exactly what happened this morning.
As Sunday’s lead caregiver (a responsibility we all share on a rotating basis), I pulled into the driveway a little before 9:00am. I always scan the surroundings as I cruise up the dirt road towards the Chimp House, but my heart skipped a beat this morning because there were cattle in a place where we don’t usually have cattle. Had anyone been sitting in the passenger seat, they would have heard me mumble “Oh, $#%&.”
Betsy, Honey, Meredith and Nutmeg were trotting around the expansive pasture which separates the chimpanzee’s outdoor enclosure from the neighboring ranch to the South. As of Thursday evening (the last time I was here), the fencing was incomplete and it looked like it might be a few more days, if not weeks, before the pasture would be ready for our herd of four rescued bovines. Some projects, such as giving the cattle their spring hoof trim and breaking ground on the new wing of chimpanzee enclosures, have been temporarily postponed due to the ongoing public health crisis. We had previously discussed hurrying the fencing project to give the cattle some more grass to turn into mass and gas, but it was unclear when we would get around to it.
Before accelerating up the driveway, I squinted at the distant fence-line and was both relieved and shocked to see that the posts were connected by shimmering aluminum wire. This wasn’t a jailbreak event and the cattle were still safely enclosed. Someone had finished securely enclosing the pasture.
I looked further up the hill and eventually spotted J.B. on the Gator, proudly watching over the three cows and one enormous steer-child. Sure enough, he had just finished enclosing the pasture by himself on a Sunday morning so that the cattle could have a full day to acclimate to their new digs. I probably shouldn’t be surprised by this sort of thing anymore. It’s become normal that the sanctuary looks like a slightly different place every time that I leave for a few days, and little changes can accumulate quickly. It really makes me appreciate how Anna can return from a three-month maternity leave and jump right back into managing the Chimp House during a global pandemic. To see such changes taking place, even in the most uncertain of times, is evidence of the slow but steady growth of the sanctuary.
That wasn’t the only big change to happen while I was away. We have recently been brainstorming ways to help Willy B, Honey B and Mave to adventure out into their section of Young’s Hill. On Friday, just two days after we all decided to start putting out more food on the boardwalk that extends out into the grassy enclosure, Willy B took his first steps out of the chute and into the open courtyard in order to retrieve some scattered food. Even though he appeared hesitant and calculating, it also clearly took some extraordinary guts. We’re not sure when the new three were last able to walk on real grass or go outside without caging overhead (if ever), so Young’s Hill must be a scary place for them. I wasn’t at the sanctuary on Friday, but I was happily bombarded by texts and videos from the staff who were working. Willy did it again on Saturday and I, once again, spent my afternoon smiling while watching the uplifting video over and over on my couch at home.
Today, I had the joy of seeing two amazing events first-hand: Willy going out into the courtyard for a third straight day and the cattle being brave enough to venture out into a new pasture. It’s strange to see how the two events parallel each other despite the obvious fact that cattle and chimpanzees behave quite differently. I’m ecstatic that the sanctuary’s residents are opening up to new experiences, regardless of whether they have hooves or big hairy feet. I’m also really proud of our sanctuary’s team (and community of supporters) for providing them with these opportunities to go beyond their past experiences. It gives me confidence to see us surging forward, one little unexpected step at a time.
The video above really speaks for itself. It was quite an exciting day for all of us!
As though Willy B’s bravery wasn’t enough to make our hearts soar today, guess who I just spotted at the TOP of the hill? I had to take a quick photo with the phone.
Chimpanzees are intelligent, emotional, and complex. They deserve the utmost respect.
This is their home and their retirement, and it’s their right to be however they want to be. This fact makes me appreciate how chimpanzees can be not only relaxed but also downright goofy. When they group is in a playful mood, even the most stoic of chimps can be a total dork. For us caregivers, stopping to appreciate these weird moments helps to keeps things lighthearted and reminds us what this sanctuary thing is all about. It’s perfectly okay to laugh along with them.
In the past, we’ve highlighted some of the comical new behaviors that the chimpanzees invent in their spare time (e.g., Annie’s and Honey B’s waistbands, Willy B’s slinky moves, Missy’s choice of grooming tools, Mave’s toe socks and Jamie’s flamboyant scarves). Of course, none of these creations are purely spontaneous and random. Even the most innovative aspects of their behavior are influenced by both their current surroundings and past experiences.
Honey B’s behavior seems to be especially shaped by her previous and ongoing interactions with humans. As one of the more inquisitive and interactive chimpanzees at the sanctuary, she likes to be involved in whatever her caregivers are doing and seems to enjoy making us happy. It’s in her nature to be helpful. We try not to bother the chimps with unnecessary requests, but we do have to ask them for certain favors that help us caregivers to do our jobs. On a daily basis, for example, we ask the chimpanzees to shift from one enclosure to another so that we can safely go inside and clean up. They usually do this without any coaxing because there is something more interesting to do elsewhere. Sometimes, however, there are objects or materials blocking the hydraulic doors that prevent us from remotely operating them and therefore delay shifting. In those moments, we can usually ask a passing chimpanzee to kindly remove the obstruction. Honey B, however, exceeds the expectations.
A few weeks ago, the three chimps who live in the new wing were shifting out of the upstairs Mezzanine and into the new front rooms and chute on the ground floor. There was a tangled slinky that was preventing Kelsi from remotely shutting the door behind them. We asked Honey B to remove the toy, which by then resembled a bird’s nest, and she eagerly scrambled to disentangle the entire thing before tossing it through the open doorway. Then, for safe measure, Honey B collected nearby slinkies (which weren’t tangled and weren’t blocking the door) and chucked them downstairs as well.
In the following weeks, she has surprised us all by continuing to throw available enrichment items through doorways before they we close them. Every morning she flips the previous night’s blankets and night bags through the lower-level doors before heading up to the Mezzanine for breakfast, and she has even started to hurl larger toys down the incline of the chute and out into her group’s alcove of Young’s Hill (now known as “The Courtyard”). With the input of a few enthusiastic and amused volunteers, I have unofficially named this behavior The Chonk. I’m not sure how well this name fits the behavior since the term chonk is usually applied to overweight cats on the internet, but the sound of the word makes me chuckle. (Thanks, Elizabeth C!)
I would love to know exactly what Honey B is thinking as she yeets enrichment out onto the Hill, but I can only speculate. I sincerely hope that, whatever her motivation may be, that she’s having as much fun as I am.
Keep on chonkin’, Honey B.
