It was a beautiful day for a lilac forage.
Jody
Grief
I guess I will start this blog on a personal note, and if you stick with me, I think I will make it come full circle. If not, I appreciate you all just being here reading the words that have been running around in my head :).
Grief looks different for every human and non-human. Grief has played a large role in my personal life and if I am honest my professional life as well. I would not be the person I am today without it. Grief and opportunity lead me to make some amazing impulsive decisions that at another time in life I may not have taken the risks or the leap. With the loved ones I have lost, the feeling doesn’t go away. Slowly, we heal and find a way to manage the void left behind. For me, their absence in life is always here, but I have learned that it is okay to acknowledge the sadness of a loved one you had hoped to share more memories with, over time it does get easier to cope with.
As I mentioned before, grief looks different for each individual. Some let the grief swallow them whole and come out of it when it is time, others mask with humor, or avoid, some make themselves so busy they can’t think about it. None are wrong, just different. For me, though I can express myself around others and share my feelings, showing those emotions is a different story. I tend to avoid my feelings and mask them with humor until I am alone, and then let the grief swallow me whole so that no one has to take care of me… because I do the care-taking. It’s hard to take care of the people who usually do the caring.
We as caregivers wear many hats and a difficult aspect of that is that we do see a lot of trauma. Some days we are just caregivers and other days we are jumping into help with an unexpected procedure or observing wounds to make sure it doesn’t need medical intervention. While other days, it’s a lot of emotional trauma of hearing the chimps scream and fight- hoping it doesn’t turn into an injury. This job can be hard because we cannot ask them to stop or always protect them from harm, no matter how much we try. Sometimes I don’t think we talk about the struggles that we endure enough. It isn’t always something we have time to unpack, we recognize it, make a note of it, but we have to continue to care for the other chimps. On the other side of the trauma, the things we endure can have incredible outcomes. Burrito is our miracle chimp, against all odds he made it and with everything he has been through, he has only gotten more hungry for life. Or making the group of 9, there were so many emotions during the intro process, watching them figure each other out, not knowing if it would work out, but here they are, one year together as a group. While we may have helped facilitate the intros, it is an incredible accomplishment made by Cy’s group.
For us humans (and the chimps too), I think as the days have passed by, we are slowly unpacking everything that unfolded. Everyone was working around the clock to help Jody and her family. Now that we have stopped moving the grief is settling in. The beauty of the individuals that I am so lucky to be surrounded by at CSNW, is though we may be unpacking in our own ways, everyone is there for each other. The community of CSNW is one of the warmest, most comforting places to be a part of. It makes someone like me uncomfortable to be vulnerable, accept sympathy, or even cry in front of someone not so hard. I am so unbelievably lucky to work with such remarkable people who can not only console the chimps who have lost such an important member of their group, but to also console each other when losing such a remarkable chimp like Jody.
Jody was everything that sanctuary embodied. Jody had gone through so many traumas in life. Jody didn’t owe us anything- especially her trust or friendship. But Jody was resilient, she was strong, she was brave, and she was so loving to the individuals she cared for. Jody stayed that way even in her final days. CSNW gave her security, safety, and love. Jody’s friendship was something to earn, but when she let you in, you were loved so fiercely and so loyally. For 15 years Jody enjoyed everything that sanctuary had to offer her and we are only better for knowing her.
I would like to share a few of my favorite blogs of Jody. One of my all time favorite memories of Jody is when she helped Foxie build the courage to climb up the Twister. Jody and Foxie worked on it for many morning before Foxie finally made it up there. I also loved a few weeks ago when J.B. found Negra out on a structure on the top of the Hill, that morning Jody made sure Negra went outside, almost as if they had a plan to get Negra up there and of course Jody was waiting for Negra to come back. Any of the great pumpkin heists! Watching Jody foraging for leafy greens. I also really loved this particular video of Jody and Negra playing!
Because my blog was not particularly uplifting, I will leave you with a few interactions with the chimps that have helped me get through this week.
The first day I came back from Jody’s passing, I was greeted by Negra. She was breathy panting, grooming my hands and my elbow. She would give me kisses for long periods of time. Negra would put her forehead on the mesh for me to knuckle rub, then her back to groom, and even her foot to knuckle rub. If anyone knows Negra, she really never gives her foot like that, like at all. Every time we made eye contact, we would just breathy pant together for long periods of time. We did these things together for at least 20 minutes.
Jamie and I went for one of the longest walks we had been on in a while. When I came back from the walk, I went through the greenhouses on Honey B’s side of the building. Honey B greeted me by giving me her belly and breathy panting followed by sweet kisses and grooming on the back of my hand. Honey B also was holding a plank of wood she had proudly found and wasn’t ready to give it to Caregiver Chad just quite yet. Gordo stopped by to tickle my hand and ask to play chase. Cy came by to look longingly in my eyes. Rayne came to inspect my toes (I was wearing one sandal and on the other was Jamie’s current favorite boot), and Terry gave me a very tender kind kiss. After I played a little chase with Honey B, I came back to Jamie where she was ready to receive her boot. After I gave Jamie her boot she went off to make a nest, which allowed Burrito and I played a mellow game of tickle, slow chase, and follow his lips- where he gives you kisses on the back of your hand and you follow this lips around all different parts of the mesh.
Yesterday, I was on Rayne’s side of the building for cleaning. I went upstairs to clean greenhouse 3 where Rayne met me. We sat across from each other through the double mesh. Rayne ate her breakfast chow while she stared into my eyes for a while. After, I started to clean again when Honey B showed up. Honey B and I, again much like Rayne, sat across from each other through the double mesh. She breathy panted and put her face on the mesh to give a kiss, though we couldn’t reach each other through the double mesh, I put my face up again the mesh to give a kiss back, Honey B and I did this for a while before she too moved on… I am sure to find some mischief : ). Gordo stopped by in between the kisses and wanted to play, but he didn’t want to wait long enough for Honey B and I to be done. And Mave stopped by in between to put her face up to the mesh and stare into my eyes before she left to find her Dora. After Honey B left, I started to clean again when Cy joined me upstairs. Cy and I played a silly game of chase and gazed into each other’s eyes. Eventually, everyone moved on and I finished cleaning.
These were some sweet moments that helped me in my moments of grief this week.
It’s easy to dwell, but the interactions I have had with the chimps this week are a good reminder of why we do what we do. I feel like everyone has come forward in their own small way to heal. I find solace in our dedication to the chimps. Each of them are beings with such depth, we owe it to them.
Silly Burrito:
Jamie in a giant nest:
And a few of sweet Jo <3:
in Memory of Jody from a New Friend
We have said it before and will continue to thank everyone for the outpouring of messages honoring Jody and our shared grieving.
Today’s sponsor-a-day is also in memory of Jody, but not by someone who has been following the sanctuary for a long time. Here is the message from Cheryl Davis:
In memory of sweet Jody. Until two days ago I did not know about Jody or the sanctuary. Thank you for caring for her, loving her and all the other chimps.
Thank you, Cheryl, for taking the time to learn about Jody and the sanctuary and for being moved to make a donation dedicated to her. I can’t seem to find the words to articulate how heartening it is to know that Jody continues, in her passing, to capture the hearts of caring people.
I keep thinking back to these two photos we took of Jody the very first day she first arrived at the sanctuary when she was 33 years old.
The first one shows why we described Jody and everyone in her group as “aging in reverse” these last 15 years.
The second one really moves me, because Jody became known for her GIANT nests, and was not afraid of taking up space, but on that first day, she took just two blankets and made the tightest little nest around her.
What a privilege to have been able to watch and share as Jody embraced her sanctuary life and lived each day to the fullest. Thank you again, Cheryl, for being moved enough to sponsor this day in her honor and memory.
Continuing on…
Many have reached out to ask how the rest of Jody’s group members are doing following her passing. I am happy to report that they seem to be handling it well. Of course, it is evident that they feel the loss of Jody, as she was an important member of their group, but they are okay. They are continuing on with their daily routines, which I personally think is crucial in the grieving process. They are all doing the things they enjoy the most, such as reading books, playing, nesting, etc. Grieving and continuing on with life can occur simultaneously.
I know many blog readers enjoy reading our blog as a positive escape. While our blog content is typically positive or fun/silly in nature, I know with the loss of Jody, it has not been. I apologize if you feel the heaviness. We hope you understand as we inevitably continue to mention Jody in the coming days/weeks/months. I don’t think any of us want to stop talking about her yet.
When The Time Comes
Hi, everyone.
First- I want to say thank you so very much to everyone who has reached out to us with a kind message, loving comment, or respectful note of support. It has been truly heartwarming to see the amount of people all over the world who love Jody, her family, and CSNW. Thank you.
To say this has been a difficult time is an understatement. When I sat down to write the blog last Thursday I wrote about how lovely of a day we were having here- after a forage on Young’s Hill and some sunshine, we were all in good spirits. I had no idea things would change so quickly- none of us did. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about saying goodbye to Jody, but words won’t ever do it all justice. Having the opportunity to be her friend, to love her, to know her, to say goodbye, and to watch her family say goodbye– there’s too much love and sadness in all those things to capture.
Yesterday, I was talking with Caregiver Katelyn about how grief is a natural continuation of loving someone- you can’t have one without the other. And, in it’s own way, grief is a little voice that lets us know that the love we had for that individual while they were with us is still there, even though they are gone. The fact that we are all grieving so intensely for Jody indicates just how much we love her.
Jody- how fiercely we all love you.
We learn so many things from the chimps here every day, but Jody taught me to always make sure your family is safe- whether that means keeping a watchful eye on them as they wander down their own path or being there for support as they venture somewhere new. She taught me to enjoy kicking back in a nice big nest and, if someone needs you to move, to carry that nest with you for ultimate comfort at your next location. She taught us to enjoy the food we eat and to make sure everyone knows it’s delicious by making loud dinosaur noises. She taught me to not put up with eating something you don’t like and, if possible, to spit it back out on the person who dared to serve it to you to begin with (maybe the more entertaining lesson to learn). Finally, in her passing she has taught me to enjoy every moment we have with them here in sanctuary and, if that means the daily tasks get done a little later, then so be it. Moments are precious.
I have found myself lately going through all the photos and videos I have on my phone, to find peace and solace in the memories I have of Jody. So many of them I had forgotten about and seeing them again made me smile, so I wanted to share them with you all today. They’re short clips with no real thread tying them together- only sweet Jo.
Fifteen years of sanctuary in your almost 48 years on this earth, Jody. You will live on in all of us and we will continue to tell the world about you.
Love and miss you, always.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love that is mortal;
to hold it
against your own bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to
let it go,
to let it go.
Mary Oliver
P.S. It’s tough to mention right now, but today is the last day of GiveBIG. Your donations go directly to the care of our residents and every dollar truly matters. If you feel so inclined, please consider donating to help us reach our goal. Thank you.
Saying Goodbye
Note: The video above may be difficult to watch, especially for those of you who have known and loved Jody either in person or through this blog, as it shows her family reacting to her death. But I hope you can find a time when you feel able to share in our experience of saying goodbye to Jody.
As Diana mentioned, we recently discovered Jody lying on the floor, largely unable to move below the neck. After doing initial diagnostics, we set up an appointment for an MRI to assess her long-term prognosis, with a surgeon at the ready to avoid having to bring her back at a later date if something could be done. Her condition suddenly began to deteriorate on Sunday and we moved up the appointment, but she quickly passed. Yesterday, Dr. Erin and I took Jody’s body for a postmortem MRI at the Veterinary Specialty Center of Seattle and a necropsy at the University of Washington. Preliminary results suggest a degeneration of the ligaments around the C1-2 vertebrae and compression of the spinal cord.
The sudden onset of Jody’s condition surprised us, as there was no fight that morning and no loud noise overnight (we monitor the chimps via remote cameras outside of regular work hours). She was discovered in one of the smaller “front rooms” behind a dividing wall, out of direct view of the cameras, so unfortunately we simply don’t know what caused her paralysis. Given her location and the nature of the injury, one possibility is that she fell a short distance. Why she would have fallen off a step or bench is another question. In hindsight, we may have witnessed her exhibiting a few episodes of “transient quadraparesis,” or momentary paralysis below the neck, in the past, but it is difficult to tell if a chimpanzee is unable or simply unwilling to get up when they can’t tell you what they are experiencing. While we can’t say definitively what led to the deterioration of the structure supporting and protecting her spinal cord—whether it was progressive or from some prior acute trauma—it may have have been compromised to the point where a less severe injury could have more profound consequences. In addition to causing paralysis, her condition involved other parts of her body, affecting vital organs, and she ultimately had no chance of recovery.
In the days before she passed, Jody was understandably frightened at times but became comfortable with us entering the room and caring for her. It’s a strange experience for us to be directly caring for an awake chimpanzee and I’m sure it was strange for Jody, too. She was courageous and accepting, but she also felt comfortable telling us to go to hell when she’d had enough. If we could have spared her those days, knowing what we know now, we would have. That said, we did our best to keep her comfortable while we tried to learn more and, from a selfish perspective, we were fortunate to get to spend time with her. CSNW’s founder, Keith, even made it in time to see her, as did many of her local volunteer caregivers. In typical Jody fashion, she greeted them each warmly.
One challenge that is particular if not unique to the sanctuary world is the way we have to transition from medical team to grieving family in the blink of an eye. Our staff and volunteers did an incredible job keeping the other chimps’ needs in mind and we worked to give Jody’s body back to them as soon as we could so that they could also process her death.
It shouldn’t surprise anyone that chimps react to the death of a loved one in different ways. Some are scared or anxious, while others are accepting. Some are even empathetic enough to comfort the humans around them, as you’ll see. It is a unique privilege to witness—and even participate in—what is essentially a chimpanzee wake. The Cle Elum Seven had been a family for 17 years, and some of their relationships go back even longer. Jody’s death is a profound loss for them.
The rituals look familiar. They kiss, hold, groom, and caress. These are the mechanisms of bonding and the expressions of affection that held them together in life. Perhaps in death they are just a continued expression of love. Or perhaps they are an attempt to hold on for one more moment to something they know is slipping away. If you had watched the humans spend time with Jody upon her death, you would have seen the same kinds of things.
I have to admit that there’s a part of me that wonders if this should have been kept a private experience between the chimps and their caregivers, and I’m sure some others feel similarly. But when we met Jody and her family in that laboratory basement, we were determined that she would become known to the world, or at least some small part of it. So many chimps like her suffered and died anonymously. After 32 years in the lab, Jody finally had a life worth living and people got to know her as the individual she was. So many of you fell in love with her over the last 15 years, as we hoped you would. For all of you who have loved her and supported her, it is your time to grieve with them, too.
We’ll have a lot more to say about Jody and our love for her in the coming days and weeks. For my part, I will just say for now that I was forever changed when we first met her in that awful laboratory basement, and even more so once I got to know her. She was a truly beautiful person.
After Jody’s family said their goodbyes, they returned to normal routines. Today was spent patrolling, eating fresh spring grass, and gathering up the bountiful lunch forage. It was notably quieter without Jody’s dinosaur food grunts, but the gang honored her memory by stuffing their hands, feet, and mouths with as many peppers as they could hold. Life will go on, differently. Like us, the chimps will always carry a part of her with them.
Difficult News about Jody
I’m so sorry to share that Jody passed away last night (see yesterday’s blog post). Physically, she was surrounded by people – in human and chimpanzee form – who loved her deeply. In an even more profound way, she was surrounded by the love from all of you who were thinking of her.
These circumstances of her passing were in stark contrast to the decades she spent as a biomedical research subject, which we outline on her biography page.
It has been such an honor and privilege to have been able to share the last almost fifteen years of Jody’s life through the lens of hope, love, and home at Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest. We made this video about Jody six years ago, and I have watched it multiple times since last night.
Jody was an incredible friend and, in many ways, the center of her social group. After she passed, we were able to give her chimpanzee family the opportunity to be with her body. I imagine that we will be sharing more about this later, as it was beautiful to witness them, in their own ways, say goodbye.
A friend, Thyra Rutter (Arte for Elephants), who I became connected to when she reached out a few years ago about donating her drawing of Jody below, recently recommended Thich Nhat Hanh’s book, No Death, No Fear, which I bought immediately after seeing her post about the book. There are so many lessons within his writing to contemplate.
One is the notion, the reality, of impermanence. He writes, “Thanks to impermanence, everything is possible. Life itself is possible.” He explains the concept of inter-being: because everything is connected, all things are constantly influencing each other and therefore are not separate.
This idea is what I keep thinking about this morning. We will not see Jody in the chimp house today or any day following today. That is the painfully difficult part of grieving. But Jody is not gone. She is within everyone who has known her. Because of this blog, she is present in people far away who have never met her, and people who perhaps today are just meeting her for the first time by reading this. We will greatly miss her physical presence, and we will continue to work to make Jody and all of the chimpanzees at the sanctuary live on. Their existence and their stories are important. Thank you for being a part of her life.