Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest

Hope. Love. Home. Sanctuary for primates.

northwest

A Taste of What’s to Come

by 1 Comment

I should know better than to make predictions regarding construction timelines but I think it’s safe to say that we are within a couple months of the “Cali 3” moving into their new playrooms. Then, assuming our year-end fundraising is successful, we move on to completing the greenhouses. When that is done, we plan to welcome six more chimps and then create a 2nd two-acre habitat. It’s going to be a busy year!

Chimps always seem to know when the things we are building are meant for them. When we built Young’s Hill in the summer of 2011, the Cle Elum seven knew right away that it was their new habitat. How would they have known that? They’d spent their lives in small cages and hadn’t been outdoors since they were little kids, if ever. And surely they had never seen an electric fence before. But somehow they knew. In fact, months before we were ready to let them out, I took out my keys to unlock a chain near the entrance to the new enclosure and the chimps began hugging and screaming – they thought I was letting them out! Needless to say, I felt pretty bad about that. Luckily, they did go out later that summer and now Young’s Hill is part of their home. Honey B, Willy B, and Mave are just as ready to claim their new spaces and we’re looking forward to seeing them run, climb, and swing their way through the new playrooms and beyond.

In addition to the video above, I thought I’d share some bonus photos of Foxie from this morning. This is typical Foxie – she starts our patrolling with the gang and then wanders off by herself. She’s got a real independent streak.

Someone to lean on

by 22 Comments

Annie has always had a nervous disposition. In the years immediately following her arrival at the sanctuary, she was prone to bouts of acute anxiety akin to panic attacks. Thankfully, these have become less and less frequent over the years but they still occur on occasion. While it’s hard for us to say exactly what sets them off, they appear to be triggered by tension or ambiguity in social relationships. It’s hard to be a primate, as we all know too well.

This afternoon, I spent some time photographing the chimps as they quietly patrolled the hill, foraged for browse, and climbed the various towers and play structures. At one point I noticed Annie nearby with her hair standing on end. I could tell something was wrong.

She began to pant-hoot softly, each hoot trailing off into a whimper. Alone, she walked hurriedly to a climbing structure and began to climb the ladder. But she turned back before reaching the top.

Soon her whimpers grew into screams.

Her walk became a sprint.

She was alone and desperate for reassurance.

There’s only one person that Annie looks to in moments like these.

Just then, Missy emerged from the greenhouse and into Annie embrace.

And like that, Annie’s face began to soften.

And her breathing began to slow.

As Katelyn mentioned recently, the relationship between Annie and Missy can be complicated at times. Thankfully for Annie, there are still times when it is predictably straightforward and simple. Because Annie is the kind of person that needs someone to lean on.

Reconnaissance

by 12 Comments

Jamie almost always walks around Young’s Hill with a purpose. Sometimes her goal is to lure a caregiver away for some private bonding time. Other times she is eager to race. This afternoon, as I was walking around the hill with Missy, Annie, and Burrito, I saw Jamie emerge from the greenhouse and plot a slow, deliberate course up the hill to her tower. On this occasion, she was determined to see what was happening on the roof of her home.

The roofers were finishing their work on the Phase 2 addition, adding flashing to the six skylights above the new playrooms. While the noise from the construction has been a bit intrusive at times, this did not seem to be Jamie’s concern. I think she just wanted to be in the know. Plus, we know she appreciates a good tool belt.

The chimps have a number of different vantage points from which they can watch the addition take shape. Sometimes the best spot is in the old playroom, especially if you bring your own popcorn (or chow).

Honey B, Willy B, and Mave have front row seats to the show. It’s their new playroom, after all.

At some point I plan to write a post addressing a question from our Q&A post about how we go about designing a chimp sanctuary, but for today, let me just say that chimps always want to know what is going on, so this has to be considered in the design brief for any chimp facility. One of the ways we can accommodate this need is by adding lots of windows, both to the outside and between different parts of the building, so that they can see what’s happening all around them. Our new addition contains twenty large chimp-proof windows for this reason. While we hope to add some simple murals to the walls at some point, anything we paint on the walls will pale in comparison to the enrichment that those big windows provide.

Sunrises and grazing cattle are great, but what interests chimpanzees even more than their natural surroundings is human activity. In fact, as I write this on the computer in the central foyer of the chimp house, I’ve got the clinic doors open so that Honey B can watch. Of all the things she could be doing, she’s chosen to sit in the medical enclosure, which is small and rather bare by design (for safety during anesthetic induction), just so she can keep an eye on the humans.

It’s the same story on the other side, only those guys have a direct view into the kitchen.

If you don’t prep dinner fast enough, Negra will let you know. Hurry up, Anna! (if Negra could speak, she would almost certainly add some obscenities).

When you have two groups of chimps in close proximity, things get really interesting. There’s been a lot of drama in the group of seven lately, and on top of that, Annie is at full swell. So Willy B is consumed with the soap opera next door and he is refusing to shift enclosures so that he can keep an eye on things. Visual access between groups can be incredibly enriching, but it certainly cuts both ways. Hopefully Willy B will return to his senses once Annie is out of estrus. If not, we’ll have an interesting problem to work through at our next staff meeting. If the chimps don’t shift, we can’t clean!

I’ll leave you with a few more photos of the chimps enjoying the view from Young’s Hill this afternoon.

Missy:

Annie:

Missy & Annie:

Burrito:

Jody:

The Snow Diet

by 9 Comments

It seems Burrito was unable to eat all of the snow in his two-acre enclosure yesterday so today he and the gang were back at it.

Burrito sampled the snow at various locations but decided to return to the same platform where he and Foxie shared a snack yesterday. And again, he patiently waited his turn until Foxie had her fill.

Missy took a brief moment to spy on her neighbors and the ongoing construction before scaling a climbing structure in search of the white stuff.

People often ask us if we ever put sugar or fruit on top of snow for the chimps. We certainly have, but the chimps seem to really enjoy – and maybe even prefer – snow all by itself. As caregivers, we are always trying to balance keeping the chimps enriched with keeping them healthy. And one of the few things squarely in the center of that Venn diagram is a zero-calorie snack that falls from the sky and keeps the chimps entertained for hours each day.

I only wish I enjoyed it as much as they do.

Chimp feet are pretty handy

by 14 Comments

Recently, Edie asked: I am amazed when I see pictures of their feet-they seem so versatile! Do they ever use their feet like hands?

Chimpanzee feet are pretty amazing indeed. Unlike our own, they are prehensile, meaning they have the ability to grasp. This is because their big toes are opposable, like our thumbs.

Annie, holding her hand with her foot

This is presumably an adaptation to aid in climbing, like when scaling tree trunks:

Or when clinging to vines and small branches:

They can also aid in maintaining balance when perched precariously above the ground:

But they can also function like an extra set of hands when necessary. Gathering tomatoes? With prehensile feet you can haul twice as many.

Difficult Kong puzzle? Why not let your feet do some of the work and free up both hands?

Wondering where to put your doll when you are eating lunch suspended from the caging? You can trust that Dora the Explorer will remain safely in the grip of your opposable toe.

The dexterity of chimpanzee feet also makes them great for tickling.

I hope all chimpanzees stop once and a while to appreciate having such useful feet.

Contact

by 14 Comments

As part of our ongoing Q&A series, I thought I’d address one of the most common questions we get: Do we ever wish we could have more physical contact with the chimps?

As many of you know, we strictly limit the ways in which we interact with the chimpanzees out of concern for our safety. Chimpanzees are incredibly fast and powerful animals with large, muscular jaws and massive canine teeth. Estimates vary, but it’s safe to say that chimpanzees possess at least twice the upper body strength of humans, pound for pound. And for chimpanzees, aggression is not an aberration but rather a normal part of the way they interact with one another and the world around them.

It was then that the troll realized he had made a terrible mistake.

Compounding the risk posed by their strength and natural behavior is the frustration they experience in captivity. One of the profound ironies of caring for chimpanzees is that you are far safer strolling through an African forest amidst a community of over a hundred free-living chimpanzees than you are standing near the enclosure of a captive chimpanzee. In fact, when Jane Goodall, the world’s foremost expert on chimpanzees, lost the tip of her thumb, it was not to one of the chimpanzees of Gombe that she had spent decades living among but rather to a chimpanzee in a laboratory cage. Frustration is not limited to chimpanzees in laboratories, however. Even in the best zoos and sanctuaries, we deny chimpanzees control over their lives and the ability to make choices for themselves. To put it bluntly, all captive chimpanzees are prisoners to varying degrees and we should not be surprised when they occasionally act as such.

So if we are concerned with safety, we’re left with a cautious and largely hands-off approach to caring for captive chimpanzees. In those times when we do have contact, we do so through the mesh fence in very controlled ways. We like to use the term protected contact, which originated as a way to describe the safe management of elephants from behind a safety barrier. At CSNW, this means that our bodies never penetrate the caging. If the chimps want us to touch them, we do so with the tip of a knuckle while the chimps press their bodies against the mesh. If they want to touch us, they must extend their fingers all the way out and we limit their reach to our bare elbows or wrists. These methods, along with countless hours of training, help limit opportunities to get bitten or grabbed.

Kelsi playfully knuckle-rubs Burrito.

All of this eventually becomes second nature for both caregivers and the chimpanzees and I can honestly tell you that I rarely desire to have more contact with my chimpanzee friends. That said, I do remember feeling differently during my first summer spent around chimpanzees. In 1998, I was an apprentice at the Chimpanzee and Human Communication Institute, and my fellow apprentices and I would spend five or more days per week recording observational data on the chimps, cleaning near them, and coding videos of them. Our lives were consumed with chimps but we were not trained to a level where we could have any contact with them at all. It was killing us. So much so that when we’d be out on the town at night, we’d inevitably mob some unsuspecting dog and frantically pet them until they managed to break free and run for help.

There is one particular situation where it is relatively safe for us to have free contact with the chimps and where we do sometimes indulge ourselves, and that is when they are under anesthesia for medical care. In these moments, in between the IV prep and the blood pressure readings, we sometimes find ourselves holding their hands. Maybe it’s in the hopes that somewhere in the deep recesses of their subconscious they can sense that we are there with them. Or maybe we are looking to them for comfort.

Diana holds Burrito’s hand during an echocardiogram.

It’s important to remember that in normal circumstances the chimpanzees in our care get all the hugs, snuggles, play slaps, and tickles they desire from their chimpanzee friends, and the chimps and their caregivers are able to develop rich and full relationships despite the physical separation. It’s only natural to want to have more physical contact with them, but eventually you come to realize that a raucous game of chase across the mesh barrier is a perfectly fine way for two friends to play. No physical contact needed.

And in those times when we need a good ol’ hug…well, that’s what dogs are for.

Wilson is always available for hugs.

Willy B and his Dipper Tube

by 8 Comments

Willy B is quite the tool-user! As you can see, enrichment doesn’t have to be expensive or complicated to be effective.

It was a busy week for the block masons working on the new playrooms. You can see the walls taking shape now that the scaffolding has been taken down. Next week – fingers crossed – the roof goes on and we get ‘dried in’, so to speak. That should ensure that construction can continue even if the weather turns bad. This morning’s dreary snow/rain was an ominous start to the season.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ranch, the cows were thrilled to regain access to their winter pasture. I’ll have to share the video of them running through the fields in another post.