Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest

Hope. Love. Home. Sanctuary

chimpanzee rescue

Flashes Of Fur

by

It was a busy day in the Chimp House. We spent most of the morning cleaning up after Burrito’s super birthday bash yesterday, as well as training new interns enrolled in the Captive Care Certificate at Central Washington University.

When I found time to check in on the chimpanzees, it was almost difficult to find them. The Seven mostly kept close together the entire day, in nearly every hard to see spot in the nice, warm Playroom. It was almost like spotting glimpses of Sasquatch at the sanctuary. An arm here. A flash of fur there. A head poking out around the corner every so often.

Negra, on the other hand, is a tried and true type of person. She spent most of the day in her favorite spot in the Playroom soaking up as much sun as she could while waiting for caregivers to finish cleaning and preparing lunch.

Willy B also spent most of his day resting on one of his favorite benches in the Phase 1 area, waiting for the caregivers to finish cleaning and preparing lunch.

I did spot Honey B and Mave a couple of times out in the Chute area, but Honey B decided playing games of chase with me instead of allowing me to take photos (other than today’s main photo) was a better plan.

Burrito’s Walkabout Reunion

by

Today was weird, weather-wise. It started out super windy, then the wind subsided and it was nice enough for some outside time for the chimpanzees, then it snowed like it was going to never stop, until it stopped less than an hour later, and finally the sun announced itself as confidently as a spring day, completely erasing all traces of the snowstorm.

We talked it over with Dr. Erin and decided that, with the sun shining, and despite Jamie and her crew being a bit on edge earlier in the day, it was time for Burrito to go back with his group. I was nervous. His recovery has been long and he’s not back to his full strength, but when I went to “talk” to him, he pulled on the door to the greenhouse, letting me know that’s what he wanted to do. I held my breath and hoped for the best. Sometimes that’s all you can do with chimpanzees.

Because he’s been having social time with a few friends in the greenhouse these last weeks, I first let Jamie, Jody, and Foxie in with him and gave them all greenhouse access.

I thought he would be very keen to get back into the playroom since he hasn’t had access to that space in weeks, but when I opened the door to the playroom, Missy and Annie went out and the whole crew (minus nesting Negra), took off for a patrol around Young’s Hill.

It was glorious.

Lucky for you, J.B. followed along and captured some video of the walk, while I got a few photos.

He looks good out there!

 

Here he is between Jamie and Foxie:

 

Missy waiting for him:

When he got into the playroom finally, he and Negra greeted each other enthusiastically, and then everyone went about things as though no time had passed. Right now he is sleeping in the loft of the playroom.

We are still monitoring an injury on one of his toes and he sometimes walks on his wrist, but overall he’s doing great, and the extra exercise and social companionship will hopefully serve him well. Now we just need to convince the “girl gang” to stay calm for a while.

In case there is any lingering questions – we do not have plans to integrate Burrito with Willy B, Mave, and Honey B because of the conflict that caused Burrito’s injuries. Maybe there will be structured social time (“play dates”) in the future between members of the different groups, but maybe not, and not for sometime, in any case.

So, we’re back to the original seven on the old side of the building and the new three on the new side, with plans to start construction as early as we can in the spring. The next phases will give Willy B, Mave, and Honey B more space and will allow us to bring in another group of chimpanzees.

We’re looking forward to whatever the future holds, but today it was just nice to see Burrito outside with old friends in the sun.

Resilience + Playful Mave Video

by

A few weeks ago, the staff received amazing personalized gift baskets from past and current volunteers as a gesture of support following the emotionally challenging times with the now-failed integration attempts of the two groups of chimpanzees. These surprise gifts were incredible and generous.

Along with the gift baskets was a jar filled with pieces of paper that had typed messages. Many were from interns and volunteers we haven’t seen in years. Some were particularly touching messages from blog readers that had been copied and included with the words from volunteers. Kelsi immediately dubbed it “The Feelings Jar.”

I was pretty overwhelmed by the gesture and could not keep my composure to read the messages that day, or the next day, or the day after that. My composure seemed to be rather elusive, truth be told.

This past weekend, after having the jar at home for over a week, I finally sat down by myself on my couch, tissues nearby, and read each message. My composure disappeared after reading the first words on the first piece of paper and didn’t return until I had finished all of them.

Chimpanzees are known for their resilience.

We see it every day at the sanctuary. It’s easy to forget what the ten chimpanzees at CSNW have been through in their pasts when watching them independently explore the outdoor habitat, wrestle with each other while sporting huge play-faces, or get out-of-their-minds excited about what would appear to be a run-of-the-mill meal. They have each been through a lot of negative experiences, but they carry on with the here-and-now with a determined focus on the good things they can get out of each day.

I can’t say that I always share this same quality with them. I am rather skilled at directing my attention either on all of my errors in the past or the doom that is sure to come in the future.

I’ve heard that one way to improve resilience is to have a support system. These last few months have been some of the most difficult, but I’ve also never felt so bolstered by others. Thank you.

I haven’t been very focused on my main job, fundraising, these last few months, and seeing year-end donations come in the mail and online also provides me with the knowledge that you believe in what the sanctuary is doing and you want to be a part of it’s future.

You know that there is much work to be done to help more chimpanzees. For them, I thank you for helping us humans feel like we can move forward while also focusing on the positives of today.

Which brings me to today!

It’s a bright, sunny day in Cle Elum, and we decided it was perfect timing for Burrito, who was with Jamie and Jody, to get outside on Young’s Hill for the first time since his surgery.

As though this were not enough of a positive to focus on, I found Mave inside this morning being very playful:

Happy Christmas Eve, Happy Hanukkah, or Happy Tuesday. Whether you are celebrating or not, I hope you too found some positive things in your day today. Maybe it was this blog post!

Eye Contact

by

When I’m about to introduce people to chimpanzees for the first time, I usually include something like, “Though this is not true for all nonhuman primate species, it’s okay to make eye contact with chimpanzees. It’s not seen as a direct threat, particularly with chimpanzees who have been raised in captivity around humans.”

And then I use an analogy that I borrowed from J.B. and continue with, “Of course, you don’t want to stare at them. Think of it as riding a bus with strangers – it would be creepy to stare down someone you don’t know, but making eye contact and acknowledging someone else’s gaze is perfectly fine and, in fact, the polite thing to do.”

Interestingly, chimpanzees vary in how much eye contact they choose to make with us.

Honey B does not subscribe to J.B.’s “strangers on a bus” eye contact rule. She stares. She stares deeply. She stares for a long time.

I very much appreciate this about her now, but it was actually a little unnerving at first. I wasn’t sure what kind of data she was gathering as she peered into my eyes, because it did feel like she was collecting information.

Her mom, Missy, however, does quite the opposite. When a human caregiver is lucky enough to be graced by Missy’s focused attention, we generally get her back to groom, with some furtive eye contact once in a while.

If we are super lucky, she sticks her toes out of the mesh for us to touch with the back of our hand, while she looks the other way.

I try to play it cool during these moments, but I am screaming with delight inside when Missy offers me her toes. Beyond it being a huge compliment for Missy to interact with me, her feet are just the best. They are incredibly petite and the nails on her toes are worn on one side from the wear they get as she runs.

I appreciate Missy’s aloofness as much as I do Honey B’s intensity. Despite sharing some DNA, they are each their own unique chimpanzee person with different backgrounds and different personalities. The many differences and personality quirks make working with chimpanzees such a joy.

A New Day

by

Burrito was full of energy today! He spent most of his day monitoring the other chimpanzees somewhat wistfully.

If I had opened up the door, he would have gladly joined them.

He still has a while to go with his recovery, and we need him by himself so that we can closely monitor him and so his sutures don’t open up. But the fact that he was so alert and up and about and paying attention to all things was a wonderful sign that he’s feeling better.

Paying attention to all things except, apparently, the tape we left on him after his latest visit to the clinic. We purposely left some tape on him in the hope that it would distract him from his stitches, but he isn’t bothered enough by the tape to have removed it. Luckily he’s not paying attention to the stitches yet either!

Tonight, he got a blanket and climbed up to the bed in front room two. This is the first night he chose to sleep up on a platform instead of on the blanket-lined floor. He’s acting more and more like Burrito each day.

The Tale of the Slippers

by

As J.B. mentioned yesterday, and as I’m sure you would have surmised in any case, we’ve been spending extra time outside of our normal hours at the sanctuary as Burrito recovers. (If you are wondering about Honey B and why we don’t talk about her recovery, well, that’s because her day to day quickly returned to normal and she’s doing great!)

The first few days following last Friday’s procedure were pretty much 24/7 Burrito-watch.

We are grateful that Burrito’s chimpanzee friends on the other side of the mesh provided their own nursing and care skills. Honestly, I think their presence is what helped him the most after his surgery. Once again, they have shown us that their relationships with one another, though not always peaceful, provide a social network that the humans are woefully inadequate to imitate.

As Burrito has gotten better, we have not needed to stay overnight by his side, but we’ve still made late-night visits to check on him and give him food and medication.

The sanctuary owns a house on site that J.B. and I have lived in since 2009. It’s a hundred or so yards from the chimp house. This short commute to work is quite convenient for everyone, and especially so when we need to wander up at a moment’s notice and/or in the black of night.

I was making one such journey on Thursday, outfitted in pajamas and a coat, with the stars providing meager illumination. About halfway up the driveway, I stopped to confirm that the sound I heard in the bush was just the scuttling of deer, at which point I realized that in addition to my sleepwear I was also wearing slippers, which had not been my intention.

Squinting through the dark down towards my feet, I took a minute to internally debate whether to turn back to put on more appropriate footwear. In the end I talked myself into continuing onward clad in house shoes because, I reasoned, I was already nearly halfway to the chimp house and the slippers had a decent-enough sole on them anyway.

I entered the chimp house and prepared Burrito’s medication. By this point in the week all of the chimpanzees had become accustomed to the humans constant hovering over Burrito or late-night visits that included turning on lights and offering him food.

Despite these unusual disruptions, most of the chimps consistently remained silent in their nests without stirring. Even ever-vigilant Jamie has occasionally let these untoward visits take place without comment. Thursday, however, after I had given Burrito his pain-relieving treat, Jamie presented herself at the doors to the playroom, banging on the mesh to get my attention.

Jamie, to be sure, is keeping an internal tally of all of the treats that Burrito has been receiving. She has brought to our attention the inequity of treat distribution on occasion this past week, though for the most part she seems begrudgingly understanding. I thought the message that she wanted to communicate to me in that moment had to do with this clear favortism, perhaps hoping to persuade me to slip her a treat as well.

Then I noticed that her eye gaze was fixed upon my feet.

Of course! Jamie had not seen me wearing slippers before. She wanted a closer look, inside and out, of my atypical foot covering. I happily obliged, letting her feel the fabric too.

Satisfied, Jamie returned to her bed. I checked in on Burrito once again, turned off the lights, locked up, and made my way back down to the human house to settle into my own nest.

If you don’t know, Jamie is obsessed with shoes. She particularly likes cowboy boots. Here are a few photos from over the years:

jamie sepia