We give the chimpanzees all kinds of toys to play with each day, but sometimes something as simple as a cardboard box does the trick.
chimpanzee rescue
Rainy Day? Time to Play
It’s a gray, rainy day in Cle Elum but Foxie and Jamie are keeping themselves entertained inside. (Make sure your volume is up for some great breathy chimp laughter starting around 0:40.)
The Chimps and Young’s Hill
When I think of the chimp that spends the most time in the chimps’ 2 acre outdoor enclosure, I think of Jamie. On any given day, she’s busy walking, watching, inspecting, patrolling and sometimes even just taking in the views, all from Young’s Hill. And when the weather is right, she stays out late until the last bit of sunlight fades into darkness. So, it seems appropriate that I associate her with Young’s Hill.
Here’s a picture taken of Jamie last week on her solo trip around the hill.
But, as I walked out to meet Jamie for her first perimeter walk around Young’s Hill this morning (I, safely on the outside of the electric fences and her on the inside) almost all of the other chimps were already on the hill. Annie, Foxie and Burrito were already climbing to the top of Jamie’s Lookout at the uppermost part of the hill. Missy was busy running around and Jody was on the lookout for plants to forage.
When I saw the other chimps already on the hill this morning, it really dawned on me how much each of the chimpanzees at CSNW have changed throughout the past eight years. Each and every one of the chimps is growing more confident and adventurous as they choose to spend more and more time exploring their open air, outdoor enclosure.
And now, when I think about Young’s Hill, I think about Negra staying out late to forage on the wild plants on top of Young’s Hill. I think about Burrito climbing to the top of the highest structures and Annie and Foxie spending more and more time exploring on their own. I think of Missy’s acrobatic moves off of any and everything she can find and Jody’s never-ending search for wild plants to forage upon. Of course, I’ll continue to think about Jamie and her perimeter patrols, but I’m so glad to think of Young’s Hill and every one of the chimps now.
Annie on top of Jamie’s Lookout.
Foxie joined Annie on top of the tower.
And so did Burrito.
After looking around, the chimps started making their way back down the structure and back toward the building.
Once the girls made their way down the ladder, Burrito quickly followed.
Missy was a blur most of the time she was on the hill this morning, but I was able to catch her as she sat for a minute (more like a couple of seconds) on top of one of the structures.
Jody grabbed a bite from the spruce tree that JB planted on the hill (it was used as a Christmas tree a few years ago.)
The Boss Goes Solo
Jamie is one of the bossiest people I’ve ever met. She holds the alpha position here at the sanctuary, but even for a dominant chimpanzee, she is a force to be reckoned with. She runs a tight ship; both the humans and the other chimpanzees at the sanctuary know better than to get on her bad side. After decades of powerlessness in research labs, Jamie seems determined to have things her way for once.
But Jamie is not a confident leader by any means. In fact, it seems to be her insecurity that causes her to overcompensate. She would probably earn a lot more genuine respect from the other chimps if she loosened the reins a little.
One of Jamie’s most important jobs as boss is to make sure her home is safe from intruders. She knows every time a volunteer arrives for a shift. She knows every time the UPS truck pulls up. She knows what the neighbors are doing.
Like her wild counterparts, Jamie goes on patrol regularly to check the perimeter of her habitat. She does this anywhere from twice to over a dozen times a day. She almost always requests that a caregiver go with her; she seems to just like the company, but it’s also likely that she’s a little nervous to go alone.
Lately, though, we’ve seen Jamie braving it on her own more and more. While we will always love walking with her, nothing beats seeing a strong, determined chimpanzee slowly become a strong, determined, confident chimpanzee.
What We Do For Love
If you want to be a chimpanzee caregiver, it’s best to leave your pride at the door. We find ourselves doing all kinds of ridiculous things to entertain the chimps. Foxie thinks it’s hilarious to pass us one of her dolls and watch us dance.
Chimpanzee-Caregiver Interactions
For everyone’s safety, humans have very little physical contact with the chimpanzees at the sanctuary. We are always separated by caging, chimp-proof glass, or electric fence. Staff and a select group of volunteers who have gone through extensive safety training are permitted to have what we refer to as protected physical contact with the chimps. Here are just a few of our safety rules outlined in the training packet for Level III volunteers (the only volunteers permitted to interact with the chimps):
Never let your fingers or any other part of your body penetrate the caging.
Never lean on the caging with any part of your body.
Never put yourself in a position where a chimpanzee is able to pin or grab you. Pay attention to where your body is in relation to the caging at all times. Remember that the chimpanzees can grab clothing, hair, hoods, scarves, shoelaces, etc.
Never take your eyes off the chimpanzee you are serving or interacting with. At the same time, use your peripheral vision to monitor all other nearby chimpanzees.
We consider the chimps our friends, but they are wild animals, and they are powerful and unpredictable. We take these, as well as our many other, safety rules very seriously. In this video you’ll a see a few of the different types of contact interactions that trained caregivers have with the chimpanzees.
Tiny chimp, big world
We tend to equate mothers with maternity. But whether or not we find ourselves in the position of mothering children, I believe we are all mothers in some form, at some point. Maybe it’s mothering our animal friends, loved ones and family, ourselves, our plants, or even a creative project we’ve put our hearts into. It’s that innate sense we have to nurture, protect and care for someone or something we hold dear, or sometimes just a compassion and empathy that comes from witnessing a fellow being just trying to get through life the same as we are.
If you’re new to the blog or the chimps’ histories you may not be aware that Annie, Missy, Negra, Jody and Foxie were all used as “breeders” during their time in biomedical research. Each of them was forced to have child after child only to have their babies stolen from them shortly after birth, destined to a future as horrid as their parents. (To our knowledge Jamie has never had any children). You can learn more about the chimps’ histories on our Eyes on Apes page.
Foxie is mother to four children. Two daughters, Angie (who thankfully resides at Save the Chimps in Florida, and Kelsey (who resides at Alamogordo Primate Facility), and a rare set of twin sons, David and Steve (who are sadly both deceased now).
Foxie is rarely without at least one of her troll or Dora dolls and appears to have a tendency to carry two at a time. Maybe when Foxie chooses to carry two dolls at a time she can’t decide between favored dolls, perhaps two are the most she can comfortably carry, or it’s another reason I can’t possibly imagine. We can never say with certainty what the chimps are thinking, but I often wonder if it’s indicative of memories of her twins.
After breakfast yesterday the chimps headed out onto Young’s Hill and Foxie and her two Doras du jour headed off to explore on their own.
Walking along the perimeter with Jamie, as we got to the top of the hill I thought I spotted Foxie and the Doras high atop “Jamie’s Tower,” but she wasn’t immediately visible. Then reaching the other side of the structure, I could see her spying through the slats, enjoying her own world.
Gazing at her Dora dolls:
I stood watching Foxie, utterly mesmerized by how tiny she appeared against the backdrop of the stunning views surrounding her sanctuary home. Then for the first time that I’ve seen, Foxie began “phantom” nesting (nesting behavior in the absence of nesting material) with her dolls on the tower. Foxie doesn’t build nests as most chimps do, but we often see her (and sometimes Burrito) engaging in this behavior in a corner of the chimp house during which she claps and clasps her hands together while moving her arms up, across, and down, almost in a figure eight. Similar to movements chimps in the wild make as they bend in and fold branches around them when they create nests, as well as chimps in captivity who use blankets and other nesting material to build their nests. We don’t know a lot about this behavior, but as far as we know it’s only been observed in captive chimps and is not commonly seen.
We can’t know if any of the chimps would have been good mothers given their unnatural circumstances and the trauma they endured, but chances are had they not been deprived of the right to their natural lives, they would have been.
I’m not sure if Foxie was mothering her dolls or mothering herself through the comfort and joy they provide her, both, or neither. And it doesn’t matter. In whatever form it takes, Foxie is a good mother.
This tiny chimpanzee woman’s world has grown exponentially from what it was for the first 32 years of her life. But her heart and spirit can never be constrained by space.
