I have to apologize in advance, as this post contains nothing but photos of Burrito playing. Save your angry letters! Out of fairness, we have to feature him on the blog every once and a while.
northwest
The Perfect Nest
Each chimpanzee makes a nest in their own unique way. In fact, I bet most chimpanzee caregivers could name the chimp if someone simply described how they make a nest at night. Here at CSNW, we’ve got Jody, who gathers up as many blankets as possible, throws them over her shoulder and drops half of them in a doorway as she searches for the right bench to sleep on. And Burrito, who throws a single blanket over his shoulder on his way to bed like he is carrying a towel to the swimming pool. And Honey B, who wraps herself up like a to-go burrito. All ten of of the chimps here have a particular style and a ritual when it comes to nest-making. As do most humans, I would assume.
Here are a few bonus photos of Foxie from this morning.
Portraits of the Day
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!
Fawns and Fledglings (and Chimps)
“Today, just do what you can.”
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Foraging on the Fourth
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
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
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.
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.
