Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest

Hope. Love. Home. Sanctuary for primates.

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Portraits of the Day

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Anna and I are wrapping things up in the Chimp House and reflecting on what a long day it has been. Sadly, my initial plans for composing a video to attach to today’s blog deteriorated as the day went on. Instead, you’re all getting these portraits of three of my favorite chimps. (Note: I have many, many “favorite” chimps.)

First, Willy B wanted to look into the camera lens and then see the resulting images.

Then, Honey B sat in the same spot while she was eating lunch. She grasped a roll of craft paper, one of her favorite enrichment materials, in her right hand while she nibbled on carrots with her left.

Jamie, per usual, did laps around the Hill during the morning and afternoon. As always, she was vigilant and perceptive.

We hope everyone is staying safe (and staying sane). Don’t forget to wear a mask!

Foraging on the Fourth

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Foraging is all about strategy.

You start by evaluating each type of food. Watermelon: sweet, refreshing, can be consumed quickly. Corn: Delicious but time-consuming, gets stuck in your teeth. Primate chow: satisfies those carb cravings but leaves your mouth too dry to eat anything else. Lettuce: great palette-cleanser but not much bang for the buck.

Next you survey the landscape. Walking long distances requires time and energy so you’ve got to do the math. Just spitballing here but I’d say a watermelon at 200 yards is worth two corns within arm’s reach.

And finally, you need to understand the competition. Foxie’s got bad knees, so you can outrun her. But be careful, Missy will fight you for an ear of corn.

Then the moment arrives. The door opens and two acres of 4th of July forage lay before you.

The gang sets off to the far corners of Young’s Hill in a quest to stuff themselves silly.

Wait! Oh, no. As usual, Negra has been distracted by the first piece of lettuce she saw. Keep your eyes on the prize, Negra!

While the others race by her, she bites gingerly from her slice of iceberg, oblivious to all the awaits her.

Meanwhile, Jody and Missy each race to claim a stump covered in watermelon slices.

Jamie swiftly climbs to the top of the cabin for more corn.

Missy reaches the pinnacle of the Escher climbing structure to capture the watermelon atop the tallest post.

Meanwhile, Negra wonders if it can get any better than this. Warm sun, cool breeze, and a quarter head of iceberg lettuce.

Burrito races from structure to structure with his bounty…

…pausing only briefly at a vantage point from which he can survey the area for more treasure.

Missy scampers across the shaky bridge from Carlene’s Tower to Jamie’s Tower…

…and returns with more food than a single chimpanzee should be able to carry.

Jody is up to her ears in watermelon.

Annie’s up to her eyes in ears of corn.

And Burrito is attempting to walk and chew watermelon at the same time.

All the while, Negra happily savors her slice of lettuce. They just don’t grow lettuce like this anymore, do they?

Back in the greenhouse, Jody takes a much needed break from being upright.

And Jamie works to polish off her corn and lettuce. While I personally swear by typewriter style, Jamie eats around the full circumference before working her way down the cob.

Luckily for Negra, Jamie didn’t finish all of her corn. Negra later returned to the Greenhouse, emitting a sound somewhere between a whimper and an alarm call, as if she had seen a snake. As the gang turned to her to see what was wrong, Negra swiped an ear of corn from Jamie’s feet and waltzed into the Playroom. It’s good to be the Queen.

Fingerprints

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Chimpanzee hands are remarkably similar to our own, from their ability to grasp and use tools to their unique fingerprints. While the exact function of a fingerprint’s various whirls, loops, and arches is still unclear, it’s thought that they might increase grip on some surfaces or improve tactile perception. Scientists have yet to specifically examine the grooming-with-a-chopstick origin theory. As far as I know, koalas are the only animals other than primates to have them – a cool example of convergent evolution.

 

 

The Mystery of the Disappearing Jersey Cows

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It was a chilly morning, smothered by gray clouds and filled with incessant wind.

The chimps did not seem excited when I opened the gateway to Young’s Hill, and they sneered as the wind lashed their faces and caused the prairie grasses to whip around them. Soon, they had all retreated back to the warm security of the Greenhouse. Inside, they used blankets and other enrichment items to make elaborate nests.

Jamie
Annie
Jody
Negra

All seemed to be subdued by the weather. The exception, of course, was Burrito. As Diana demonstrated in yesterday’s blog and video, Bubba’s appetite for play has been insatiable. This morning, he stomped around the Playroom and Greenhouse while clutching a decapitated doll.

The clouds eventually dissipated and the landscape began to feel warmer around midday. As we normally do on Sunday afternoons, I stayed in the building to write the blog while Chad hopped on the Gator and took care of the cattle. When he came back to the Chimp House about thirty minutes later, he appeared frazzled. Although I was hesitant to ask, I inquired “How are the cows today?”

Chad caught his breath and recounted his tale. Apparently, after mucking the barn and refilling the water troughs, he had trouble locating the cattle to give them their daily fly treatment. He drove all over the property with the Gator, growing more frantic with each empty pasture, until he was on the verge of sending a radio transmission for backup. He began to fear that the cattle had escaped (which wouldn’t be the first time one of us had that thought).

Just as he was about to call Katelyn and I to join him in the search for four missing Jerseys, he saw movement down in the wetlands. Sure enough, hidden in the thick vegetation that grows along a seasonal creek bed between the pastures, Chad found Betsy, Honey, Meredith and Nutmeg. The cattle had not escaped, but they were remarkably camouflaged.

I found this story amusing, but was also obviously relieved to know that the cattle were safe. A few minutes later, I grabbed the sanctuary’s camera and trudged up the hill to take some photographs of the intrepid bovines. Honey had climbed out of the ravine and appeared to be on high alert as she watched me approach. (Honey is the ultimate skeptic.) Betsy and Meredith were grazing together in the shady areas beneath the Ponderosa pines, and Nutmeg was still browsing in the muddy creek.

Going into the vegetation to forage is nothing new (e.g., J.B.’s photo of Nutmeg from Friday), but we’re still constantly amazed by how wild the cattle have become despite their commercialized past.

Honey
Honey
Betsy and Meredith
Honey
Meredith and Betsy
Nutmeg (down in the creek)
One of the ponds (located below the creek)

The Doll Days of Summer

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We start each day with a walk around the perimeter of Young’s Hill. This is done as a precaution to ensure that the fence wasn’t somehow compromised overnight, but it is also a great time to check on the cows. While they are constantly on the move, on summer mornings they can often be found just above the chimp enclosure where they like to sleep. As I walked by this morning, the girls were in the middle of a grooming session.

Honey grooms Betsy.
Betsy grooms Meredith.
Meredith grooms Honey.

Nutmeg didn’t get any of the love this time, but don’t worry – his mom always takes care of him. I did got photo of him the other day as he drank from the spring-fed stream that bisects that sanctuary property.

Willy B was feeling pretty adventurous again today. He’s getting pretty comfortable sitting on the grass if he is close to the structure.

If he ventures any further, he brings a chair with him for a sense of security, or perhaps so that he can get his feet off of the ground at a moment’s notice.

At one point, I saw him rolling the big white barrel away from the boardwalk. What on earth is he doing? Diana even called me on the radio to inquire as she watched from the mezzanine inside.

After pushing the barrel out into the courtyard, he pulled up a chair and sat down to enjoy the view.

After lunch, Diana was weeding the garden by the Greenhouse and gave out some of the prickly lettuce that she had pulled. This is one of the chimps’ favorite weeds. They can pick as much as they want from Young’s Hill but I think it tastes better when someone else does all the work.

Missy wasn’t in the mood for prickly lettuce, though – she wanted goat’s beard – so she took off to Young’s Hill to find some.

I know we’ve mentioned this before, but the salt and pepper hair on Foxie’s arms is really starting to lose its pepper.

Thankfully, age has not slowed her down yet.

While Foxie’s love of dolls is unmatched, others in the group can be seen carrying dolls from time to time, particularly in the summer. Just like the waistbands, it’s a seasonal thing. You know who really likes Dora the Explorer lately? This guy.

4,392 Days of Summer

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I used to live my life for the summers.

Growing up in a maritime New England town, summer was always the “best” season. The warm weather and sandy coastline brought tourists from all over, and my teenage friends and I spent those months playing baseball, mowing lawns, and bringing Dunkin iced coffees to our favorite beaches. Even though I moved to a big city and academics took over, I still wanted to live my life in a permanent state of summer vacation and I developed this dream of expatriating to the tropics and staying there. As a naive young biologist, my plan was to track wild primates through jungles all morning and end each day with a bottle of rum in a hammock overlooking some turquoise lagoon. (Don’t ask me how I planned to fund that kind of lifestyle.)

In an unexpected turn of events, I now reside in an arid place far from the ocean where the summers are short, windy and dry. I’ve grown to respect the other seasons and, for some reason, I can now see the beauty in even the most frigid, gloomy, foggy, damp, and dusty landscapes. The Pacific Northwest is a natural marvel; it’s truly a wonder that the snow-capped Cascades can exist so close to the mossy forests of the Olympic coast, the dusty shrub-steppe of the Columbia plateau, and the wind-blown grasslands of the Palouse. Out here, there’s no such thing as perfect weather; there is just weather, and you better have the right gear for it.

Now, the central region of Washington state is transitioning from a cool and wet spring into a dry and hazy summer. Yesterday was the official solstice, but we have had golden sunlight well into the evenings for the whole month of June. The cattle are grazing heartily on the prairie grasses and make daily pilgrimages back to their watering hole before finding some afternoon shade below the pines. Jamie and the gang have been taking advantage of the extra daylight to go on more group patrols out in their grassy enclosure, and Willy B and his friends have been napping in the Courtyard and sunbathing in the outdoor chute.

I sometimes wonder if, in some abstract way, the summer months have a similar effect on the chimpanzees as they had on adolescent me. As I watch them chase each other around the Hill, harvest wild greens, sunbathe in the Greenhouse and slurp down chunks of avocado and watermelon, it’s easy to forget just how much the chimps also enjoy crunching on icicles, taking in the crisp fall breeze and napping on rainy days. Like true residents of the Pacific Northwest, they can make the most of any season and aren’t deterred by a little precipitation. Although they may not have the same sentimental attachment to summer that I once had, I hope that their entire sanctuary experience gives them a similar sense of freedom, with their only objective being to do whatever they feel like doing within the confines of their sheltered home. Since they’ve just celebrated the twelfth anniversary of their retirement to sanctuary, they have now had 4,392 consecutive days of vacation. That’s a whole lot o’ summer.

Of course, there are those who generally prefer the comforts of the indoors and the word “vacation” just means that they don’t need to get out of bed. To these individuals, the seasonal changes really don’t seem to matter too much and just seem to flow around them. The chief of these stoic couch-potatoes is Negra. “The Queen” will occasionally venture out to participate in an outdoor forage, but she generally has the same low-key itinerary each day, rain or shine. Today, she napped in the Greenhouse under a pile of fleece blankets while the other chimps engaged in summer fun out on the Hill. Happy four-thousand, three-hundred and ninety-second day of summer break, Neggie.