Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest

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chimpanzee

Watching from a Distance

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Hanging out with chimps is fun. Watching them hang out with each other is even better.

Chimpanzees grooming each other. From left to right: Foxie, Annie, Jody, Missy and Burrito

For sanctuary personnel who are trained to engage in protected contact with the chimpanzees, developing close relationships with the individual chimps is undoubtedly one of the most rewarding aspects of the job. I cannot think of another experience that comes close to having Missy approach the caging and ask to be massaged, or being prodded with a wooden tool by Jamie as she inspects your freckles, or stomping around the hallways with Burrito to begin the day. There is something surreal about greeting, grooming, and playing with beings who are not quite human but are definitely something similar. To call these exchanges “perks” would be an understatement.

These aren’t my favorite moments, though.

What brings me the most joy is to see the chimpanzees being independent and going about their activities as if I didn’t exist. A true sanctuary allows chimpanzees to do this, if and when they choose to do so. There are times when I see the chimps foraging way up on the hill, far from the bustle of the Chimp House, and I think that this is how our relationship with chimpanzees would be in a perfect world. Our interactions would be limited to fleeting glimpses in a forest, and chimps would not be kept in captivity or subjected to exploitation. They could go wherever they wanted to go and be whatever they wanted to be.

Missy

Today, Level II volunteer Dusty prepared a mixture of chopped vegetables and chow and we spread these items outside for the chimps to forage. As the chimpanzees fanned out across the grassy landscape and climbed over the maze of wooden structures, keeping them in our line of sight became a challenge. The chimps didn’t seem to notice the group of human visitors sitting at the bottom of the hill, and I felt irrelevant as I tried to observe them with binoculars and capture them with the camera lens.

Jody
Annie
Negra (left) and Missy (right)
Jody

Negra was more interested in exchanging an open-mouthed chimp kiss with her friend Missy, Annie was busy searching for food in the prairie grass, and Jody was determined to collect the rest of the cat-tails and bring them back to the Greenhouse. Missy eventually disappeared in the bamboo, only to reappear minutes later as a fuzzy speck perched high on a shaded platform. Dr. Jane Goodall’s first sightings of free-ranging chimpanzees in Tanzania came to mind. Missy, far off in the distance, didn’t seem too different from the wild apes that Dr. Goodall watched through binoculars from a distant hillside. In many ways, I think that’s the main point.

Missy
Missy (far away)

Even if these seven chimpanzees can never experience life in the wild as their ancestors did, at least they still get to be chimpanzees.

 

 

How to Forage

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By Burrito Chimpanzee

Gather as much of the most prized item as you can, filling your hands so that you must stand bipedally.

Process the food as you go.

Don’t worry about what other people are doing.

Just go for it.

Get the most out of everything you’ve gathered.

Take a rest, but make sure to guard any leftovers.

Grooming Party

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Grooming sessions like these often serve as a counterweight to growing tensions within the group.

One measure of how well the Cle Elum Seven are getting along is how well they shift between enclosures. For example, at times Negra might think it wiser to stay in the playroom and forego a portion of breakfast than to allow herself to be stuck in the greenhouse with a raging Burrito. Or Jody may decide that she doesn’t have the energy to deal with Jamie’s dinnertime harassment and refuse to enter the playroom for a forage. In both cases, it’s not where they’re moving to that’s the problem – it’s who their moving with.

Lately, shifting has been a little more difficult than usual. While the chimps aren’t the slightest bit concerned about rearranging our cleaning schedule (nor should they be), they do have an interest in maintaining a stable and cohesive group. So it’s not surprising to see them participating in large grooming parties like this.

We’ll see if it’s enough to get us into the greenhouse for morning cleaning tomorrow…

The Oversight Committee

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As if unanimously appointed, the chimpanzees have taken on the responsibility of supervising the ongoing expansion.

As the interior of the new wing nears completion, Gary and the team are making quick progress on the exterior renovation. The keystone of this project is an immense archway tunnel that will soon allow chimps to move freely between the expansion’s indoor areas and the existing outdoor habitat, Young’s Hill.

Just last week, pieces of the new tunnel were brought to the sanctuary, assembled, and set in place. Today, the crew began the extension of Young’s Hill that will align the end of the tunnel with the outdoor enclosure’s primary fence.

The chimpanzee residents are not visibly distressed by all of the commotion. In fact, they seem to be intrigued by the people operating heavy machinery right in their backyard. Diana took these photographs as the chimps used the high ground provided by Young’s Hill to keep watch over the crew.

Foxie
Missy (foreground) and Foxie (background)
Jamie
Foxie
Annie (left) and Foxie (right)
Annie (left) and Foxie (right)

Back in the Chimp House, the only drama seemed to be entirely unrelated to the construction. It revolved around onions.

Onions and Green Beans

While serving lunch, I dropped some onion petals and green beans outside of the caging of the Greenhouse (above). Any items dropped in this area are usually claimed by Jamie and she makes an effort to pull them within reach using whatever tool is at her disposal. Apparently, someone else made an attempt to retrieve some onion scraps and Jamie threw a tantrum, causing a fiasco in the Greenhouse that spilled over into the Playroom. Eventually, everyone else gave up and Jamie triumphantly ate her onions in the front rooms  (below).

Jamie then spent the rest of the afternoon watching all the humans dig holes, clean enrichment, chop produce and fold laundry. Although she supervised from afar, her plans consisted of nesting with boots, foraging for more leftover onions, and flipping through books about shoes.

 

Nothing

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Today, the chimps reminded me of a Calvin and Hobbes comic strip by cartoonist Bill Watterson.

The comic goes something like this:

Hobbes: You know what I like about summer days? They’re just made for doing things… even if it’s nothing.
Calvin: Especially if it’s nothing.

Nothing is exactly what the chimps decided to do today. The vibe in the Chimp House was one of tranquility and peace. It was, as the kids say nowadays, “chill.”

The day began with a lengthy breakfast that was followed by relaxation in the Greenhouse.

Negra
Missy

Jody and Burrito spent a good chunk of time grooming each other…

Jody (left) and Burrito (right)

…and all the chimps made trips into the shady building to relax, cool off, and observe the caregivers.

Jamie
Burrito
Jamie
Negra

Throughout the morning Jamie remained calmly engaged with Level III volunteer Chad, who dutifully wore Jamie’s favorite cowboy boots while she used a length of plastic hose to groom them.

Chad (left) and Jamie (right)
Jamie’s boot

Foxie had the best plans of them all. She found a quiet, secluded corner of the Greenhouse and played with a couple of dolls. She even allowed me to sit outside of the caging with my camera and take a few quick shots.

Foxie

At a time with so much commotion and activity around the sanctuary on this hot summer day, the chimps seemed especially carefree and calm this morning.

 

The Golden Years

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I spent some time watching Negra this morning.

I had just opened the hydraulic door that allows the chimpanzees to access Young’s Hill, so the seven chimps were all free to forage and roam across their spacious outdoor habitat for the rest of the day. Neggie, of course, had other plans.

The Queen, pictured above, was lounging on the upper level of the Greenhouse- the optimal location for a morning nap. As she basked on her side in the summer breeze, her lackadaisical bliss reminded me of a sea lion hauled out on a busy fishing pier, unconcerned with the activity going on around her. She had a plaid blanket draped over her shoulders and an assortment of fleece items piled around her legs. Her chin rested on her wrist, giving her the appearance of being deep in thought. She was the definition of comfort. Negra looked glorious.

Negra’s life wasn’t always like this. Neggie was likely captured in the wild as an infant in 1973, making her approximately 46 years old. We often think of her as the most senior of the CSNW residents, but the five other females are also well into their fifth decade of life. Even Burrito, born in the early 1980s, is well past the median life expectancy for captive male chimpanzees and has even exceeded the average life span for males in one of the healthiest wild communities studied by primatologists. According to what we know about chimpanzee life history, this leads us to classify all of our residents as geriatric individuals. We are prepared to manage their health and provide daily care for them accordingly, but it also shapes our expectations for the future of our sanctuary’s residents.

At larger chimpanzee sanctuaries, the populations are typically composed of individuals who vary greatly in age and background. Chimp Haven, a chimpanzee sanctuary in Keithville, Louisiana, just announced the passing of their oldest resident, Sarah Anne. Sarah Anne lived to be almost 60 years old, but didn’t retire to Chimp Haven until 2006 when she was already in her late-40s. As evidenced by the vivid descriptions and heartwarming stories shared by the Chimp Haven staff, Sarah Anne was undoubtedly an amazing individual who made the most of her time in sanctuary.

After reading about the famous Sarah Anne, I see many parallels between her life and Negra’s. Both were taken from the wild and brought to the United States as infants, presumably orphaned. Both were exploited for decades in order to advance scientific investigations. Both were shuffled from one location to another when they were no longer needed for research. Eventually, both found peaceful homes at reputable sanctuaries where they could spend their days doing their favorite things. Both became known for their extravagant blanket nests, and both became known as “queens” for their strong will and dignified demeanor. Remarkably, both overcame their pasts to become cornerstones of their social groups.

Most importantly, their stories demonstrate how chimpanzees who have already endured long and difficult lives can still grow and thrive once retired to sanctuary.

Last year, just three years after the National Institutes of Health (NIH) ended biomedical research on chimpanzees, the number of chimpanzees living in sanctuary eclipsed the amount still living in laboratories. Concurrently, there was an exhaustive debate regarding which chimpanzees should be considered candidates for relocation to sanctuary. The discussion focused on older chimpanzees, particularly those with chronic health conditions. After receiving comments from the public and input from experts, the NIH eventually concluded that all but the frailest chimpanzees should be given an opportunity to experience sanctuary, regardless of age and despite manageable health conditions.

As sanctuary caregivers around the country can testify, life does not end at retirement for chimpanzees any more than it does for humans. In Negra’s case, she has already had more than a lifetime’s share of traumatic experiences and solitary confinement. It’s only fitting that she can now live each day to the fullest, whether that includes scarfing down heads of lettuce, playing with the other chimps, participating in positive reinforcement training, or trekking up the hill to pick wild greens.

Every day, chimpanzees just like Negra and Sarah Anne get to enjoy a peaceful and enriched retirement. As many in the primate sanctuary community are taking time to fondly remember Sarah Anne and reflect on her golden years, we can also use this moment to celebrate the unique opportunities that sanctuary can give to chimpanzees of all ages.

A story about Jody

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One of my favorite stories about Jody involves a baby mouse and a top hat. A blue velvet top hat, to be precise. And on a side note, who doesn’t need a blue velvet top hat and why don’t I have one?! But I digress.

A couple years ago, when Jody began exhibiting more of her seemingly natural “den mother” inclinations, I found her lying on her stomach in the greenhouse gently grooming the tiniest of baby mice with her lips. My heart sunk. But again and again, Jody would set the mouse down gently and watch them with seeming concern and curiosity, only to pick them up and touch them with her lips again when they squeaked.

As you may have seen us mention on the blog before, chimpanzees are territorial beings by nature and extremely intolerant toward any other animals being in their home space. Any time any animal is in the chimps’ enclosure we do our best when possible to invite the chimps into another area (i.e., attempt to bribe them with a small treat like gum, for example) in the hopes of being able to close off the area the animal is in and safely enter on a rescue mission. It should also be noted that once something has caught the attention chimps, they are not typically ones to forget about it and walk away. Sadly, I knew this baby mouse was probably not going to make it on their own, but I still wanted to spare it further stress. So we offered the chimps a treat in the front rooms and I was happy to see everyone leave the greenhouse and rush inside. But what did Jody do? Well, she scooped that baby mouse up, grabbed a nearby blue velvet top hat, gently placed the baby inside and carried hat and all into the front rooms to collect her treat.

Once in the front rooms, Jody set the hat on the ground next to her and whenever one of the other chimps would push it aside, she calmly reached out and pulled it back next to her. I waited for Jody to decide that mouse had to go. But she never did. She just sat quietly and continued to guard her mouse and her hat. While the chimps enjoyed their treats, and we watched our rescue plans growing dimmer by the minute, dear, sweet, Annie approached Jody, curious to see what all this top hat business was about. When she looked inside the hat, I suppose she didn’t expect to see a mouse and that woman screamed at the top of her lungs (thank goodness it wasn’t a snake) and tossed the hat and poor mouse across the room in a fright. And Jody silently went to collect them.

I wish I could say that the end went well for that precious wee mouse. And I wish I could say what Jody had been thinking. We were able to finally retrieve the mouse and relocate him or her to a calmer final resting place in the garden. For a story not ending as I would have liked, it remains dear to my heart for some reason. Intriguing, from a behavioral perspective. But mostly, endearing. And somehow, quintessentially Jody.

I captured beautiful Jody enjoying a minute of solitude in the shaded doorway to the greenhouse, inspecting this blue-haired, bunny slipper clad troll doll in much the same way she did that sweet baby mouse. It made me think of that story again. And that blue velvet top hat I still need.