Jamie is religious about her Young’s Hill perimeter walks. As the boss, maybe she feels some responsibility to make sure the sanctuary is safe from intruders. But she doesn’t like to go alone. Her preferred walking partners are her caregivers. I can only think of a handful of times we’ve seen her walk by herself or with only other chimps as company. But today, she was desperate to go and couldn’t wait for us caregivers to get our act together, so she tried to recruit Foxie.
Cle Elum 7
Stickin’ Around
Burrito doesn’t need much to have fun. Just a good friend and a good stick.
Then and Now
Caring for chimpanzees with traumatic pasts is probably a lot like caring for anyone with a traumatic past. You’re aware of the person’s history and how it has affected them, but you probably don’t dwell on it on a day-to-day basis. There are even moments when you don’t think of the past at all; you’re just focused on the here and now.
Interestingly, the times I find myself reminded of the chimpanzees’ histories are the moments when they seem to be feeling particularly happy or relaxed or free. I think about how moments like that were few and far between until they made it to sanctuary. I hope that in those moments, the chimpanzees are thinking about anything but the past.
Commander in Chief
There are certain people that have such presence that you can’t ignore them. Jamie is one of those people. She runs the show around here, and you know it at first glance, from her perfect posture to her cocky strut to the steely glint in her eye. When she is focused on something, you can feel all her energy coming through her gaze.
From the moment staff and volunteers arrive at the chimp house in the morning, we are aware every second of being in Jamie’s home. She doesn’t let us forget it. We are expected to keep her company when she wishes (and get lost when she wishes), to retrieve things for her that she can’t get herself, to be available to her at all times. She lets us know if we are being too this or too that, or not enough this or not enough that. Jamie has unapologetically co-opted the humans in her life as her minions, and for someone who was powerless for so long, we think that’s pretty great.
Quiet
Negra is an introvert. While she enjoys the occasional grooming session or gentle play with the other chimpanzees, she chooses to spend the vast majority of her time by herself, usually under a blanket, napping or gazing out the window at the valley below the chimp house. As the grandma of the group, she sometimes has to tell the other, more rambunctious, chimps to settle down so she can have some peace and quiet.
It’s not unusual to catch Negra in pensive moments like this one.
Dance, Human, Dance
If you visited the sanctuary on any given day you’d probably see the humans behaving very strangely. We’ll do just about anything to make the chimps happy, and sometimes that means swallowing our pride and acting like fools for their entertainment. For Foxie, you might see us balancing a troll doll on our heads or doing pirouettes. Jamie likes us to wear a couple of cowboy boots (usually mismatched and two sizes too big or too small) and take a walk with her.
For Negra, we dance. The majority of the time, Negra has little use for humans. But when we dance for her, she can’t help but bob her head in appreciation.
A Nightly Treat
Each night after a dinner of fresh fruits and veggies, the chimpanzees are given a “night bag” consisting of a handful of nuts, seeds, dried fruit, and other healthy treats. This tradition began on the chimps’ first night at the sanctuary, and they’ve enjoyed night bags every night since.
As soon as we pass out the night bags a hush falls over the group as everyone digs in. The chimps are masters at shelling the nuts and seeds with their mouths and then discarding the shells. Burrito demonstrates below.
