Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest

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the tale of the snake

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If you, like Annie Chimpanzee, do not like the sight of snakes, beware that there are some photos of a snake in this blog post.

Today I was outside on the new side of the building while the door was open to the Courtyard. Willy B had been out once, but was back inside the building. Honey B was on the down slope of the chute, towards the door to the Courtyard.

This is actually significant. She has been avoiding that part of the chute, especially when the door to the Courtyard is open. Perhaps she’s making plans to eventually go outside. To acknowledge her progress, I went around to the other side of the chute to say hello.

While I was standing there, we both spotted a snake slithering by on the ground. The only kind of snakes we worry about around here are rattlesnakes, and I knew right away that’s not what this snake was. I just looked it up and it appears to be a yellow-bellied racer (thanks, Google).

Usually when chimpanzees see snakes of any kind, they emit loud alarm calls, but that’s not what Honey B did.

Instead, she whimpered and stuck her fingers through the caging, asking for reassurance. So, I gave her the back of my gloved hand to touch, told her it was okay, and that, surprisingly, was that.

I was keeping my eye on the snake, mostly because I didn’t want Willy B to get startled if he decided to go back outside into the Courtyard. I’m not exactly sure what my plan was to keep him from seeing the snake… maybe if the snake started to head into the Courtyard I would have called for Kelsi or J.B. to bring out something enticing so Willy B was distracted.

Luckily, I didn’t have to enact my (lack of a) plan, because the snake stayed in place as Willy B ventured back into the Courtyard and went about his business of being stunningly handsome.

Snakes don’t normally bother me; I don’t know why. But I will admit that this snake made me a little uncomfortable today. Not frightened, more a feeling of social awkwardness.

Perhaps sensing that I was watching him/her, my gaze was returned, and the snake remained looking at me the entire time Willy B was in the Courtyard.

Awkward, right?!

Soon, it was time for lunch for Willy B, Honey B, and Mave, so they all went back into the building and I busied myself with other things. Rather, Jamie busied me with other things, specifically walking around the hill while she collected cattails:

as Missy watched from a perch up high:

Side note: we are still limiting Jody’s activity while her sutures heal, so her cattails were delivered to her in the front rooms:

About 20 minutes later, I heard some alarm calls coming from the direction of the greenhouse. I had a feeling I knew what this was about…

Sure enough, Kelsi reported that the snake had found its way into the greenhouse and the chimpanzees on that side of the building were not reacting in the surprisingly calm manner that Honey B had earlier.

Annie in  particular REALLY DOES NOT LIKE SNAKES, and she was doing most of the alarm calling/screaming:

Fun fact: when the chimpanzees are screaming, Wilson, a pit bull / bull mastiff rescue who lives with me and J.B. on the property, howls. It is the only time he howls, but he does it reliably if he is within earshot of the chimps screaming. If they are merely pant hooting or food grunting, he lets that go.

Read the following as the sarcasm it was intended to be, and include the proper inflection for air quotes: If you are wondering why we allow a 100lb dog to sit on our picnic table, well I really don’t need your questions or opinions on “good” or “bad” dog behavior or whether establishing “rules” for dogs are important. Please, let me get back to the story.

 

So, I’m sitting outside listening to Annie seriously losing it and Wilson howling, and I’m picturing that poor snake, who really had no idea what she/he had in store for themselves today.

Some of the more brave chimpanzees (NOT ANNIE), will approach snakes and try to either throw them or whack them, or some combination of those moves. Foxie and Jamie are usually the two who take this upon themselves. Kelsi came back and reported that is exactly what happened and that the snake appeared to be dead because it was lying upside down and not moving.

The chimpanzees came to that same logical conclusion and left the snake to go do other things.

I went out to the greenhouse quite a bit later and saw the snake as Kelsi had described.

Then I watched as Missy approached it and poked it with something.

The snake was alive!

What ensued was predictable – another round of Annie screaming as Foxie, Jamie, and this time Burrito too, tried to dispatch the snake in whatever way they could.

I grabbed the snake tongs that we have for capturing rattlesnakes (we’ve only had to use them a handful of times in the last dozen years), and attempted to convince Jamie to coax the snake in the direction of the caging where I was waiting with the tongs. She looked at me quizzically and did not go along with this plan.

Kelsi attempted to pick up the snake with a piece of plastic tubing through the caging, but that too was not successful. Eventually, the snake got itself into a rather hidden place in the greenhouse and everyone calmed back down.

Jamie knew exactly where the snake was. I later saw her watching the spot where it had disappeared from a very safe vantage point at the top of the platform.

The day progressed, with Kelsi serving dinner to the chimpanzees in the greenhouse without any snake sightings or drama of any kind. After dinner, I was walking around the greenhouse to close the hill for the night, when I heard something in the underbrush.

Could it be?!

I closed Door Y and excitedly returned to where I had heard the rustling. I had to separate the plants to find him/her again, but there was no doubt this was my old steely gazed snake friend.

He/she slipped behind a railroad tie, wedged between that and the side of the building. It wasn’t easy, but I was finally able to lift him/her out and relocate the snake-with-nine-lives to the barn, where I hope he/she will make a nice home and not venture towards the chimp house again.

Growing Old(er) Together

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Today I turn 47. On June 13th we will celebrate Queen Negra’s 47th birthday.

I hope you will consider honoring us both today, as well as supporter Monica Best, who had her own birthday last week, by donating to our GiveBIG page. 

In truth, we don’t know exactly how old Negra is or what day she was actually born. No one celebrated her birthday before she came to the sanctuary. This year, however we are inviting all of you to join her birthday celebration.

We chose June 13th to celebrate her because it was the day she and her six friends arrived at Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest in 2008. It marked a new birth for her and for all seven of the chimpanzees.

When Negra and her friends arrived, I was the Director of Outreach for the sanctuary and J.B. was the Director of Operations. We had met the chimpanzees at the Buckshire Corporation months previously and wrote about those early meetings when this blog was in its own infancy.

I absolutely do not have a favorite chimpanzee. I truly love them all. There’s something unique about each of them that makes me admire and appreciate them. That said, it didn’t take me very many visits to confess my love for Negra.

Back in 2008 when so many people were working incredibly hard to get the chimpanzees to CSNW, I never would have guessed that I would still be here twelve years later. And I definitely would not have guessed that Negra would still be here.

Supporter Kathleen Corby, in wishing me a happy birthday today, reminded me of this blog post I wrote about Negra a couple of years ago.

There’s probably a common theme to many of the posts I’ve written about Negra, who was the oldest of the group. The theme, whether written explicitly or just implied, is the limited amount of time Negra might have to experience her sanctuary life and therefore, indeed, every single moment was invaluable.

Witnessing Negra do even the simplest things brings me immense joy, like when she was eating scraps in the greenhouse last week:

or swinging from the fire hose Super Negra style the other day:

Not bad for a 47 year old, if I do say so myself.

Two days ago, Kelsi and Chad were attempting to close up the chimp house after dinner. J.B. and I live in the residence on the property, a stone’s throw from the chimps’ home. I had gone outside to take some trash out, and I noticed Kelsi and Jamie on a walk. Jamie noticed me too and insisted I join them.

One walk turned into a few walks. After a bit, Chad went home and Kelsi went back inside to finish up some tasks.

It was the most beautiful evening I have ever experienced at the sanctuary. The weather was perfectly comfortable, with very little wind, which is unusual in the spring. The grass had taken on that almost unbelievably green luminescence, there were flowers, birds, and squirrels in every direction, and the fruit trees were attracting thousands of pollinating insects. Life was literally everywhere.

The cows were grazing on one side of me while Jamie slowly sauntered on the other side. She was picking dandelions, eating their stems, and discarding the flowers.

Nutmeg Steer grazing

There was a magazine article that came out several years ago that described the sanctuary property as bucolic. At the time, it made me laugh. Only a writer who lived in a big city would use that word to describe the grounds. But the other night as I looked around, listening to the cows happily grazing, watching the swallows flitting by, and walking ever so slowly on the other side of a fence from a chimpanzee, the word came back to me. If ever there was a bucolic scene, even with the unusual addition of a chimpanzee, it was this.

Jamie’s walking ritual has always presented opportunities for me to reflect. It’s ironic, in a way. Jamie can be a very intense individual. No one would describe her as laid back. But her need to walk and her desire to have a human join her has helped me on multiple occasions tamp down my own moments of intensity, allowing me to relax and be in the moment.

And so it was the other night as we walked or just stood and took in the bucolic scenery around us.

When she was finally satisfied with walking, we settled in the greenhouse so she could groom the boots on my feet, as that is perhaps the most important part of her ritual.

I took this photo of her hand holding the stick that she poked through the mesh to groom my boot:

I’ve been noticing those hairs on Jamie’s hands for about a year. Like humans, as chimpanzees age, sometimes their hair loses pigment and fades to gray.

Foxie too has been collecting gray hair these last few years. Here’s a photo I took of her the day after her exam as she lie perfectly content with her purple haired doll. In addition to the gray hair, we know from Foxie’s radiographs from earlier this week that she has arthritis in one of her hips. Other than those normal signs of aging, she seems to be in tip-top shape.

We’ve long described the chimpanzees as aging in reverse. They really did gain years on their lives when they arrived at the sanctuary. There is no denying now that they are aging in a forward direction.

Just like me.

Just like all of us.

Every moment is precious because there are a finite number of moments, and we don’t know what that number is. It’s both the tragedy and also the incredible beauty of our own lives and of caring for other living beings.

Who would have guessed that we would be so lucky to have had so many moments – coming up on twelve years worth of them – with these special seven chimpanzees, and now with three more special chimpanzees and four very cool cattle.

What a privilege to be getting older with all of them. And what a privilege that you are here too, a part of all of our lives.

Emergence

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Today was the day. It happens each year around this time.

I would have placed a bet on it happening last week, but Negra, the Queen of the sanctuary, operates on her own timeline.

Jamie was grooming my boots in the greenhouse (me safely on the human side of the fencing, of course).

As Jamie was brushing and poking at the boots on my feet, I saw Negra go from the greenhouse through the raceway to Young’s Hill. There were no other chimpanzees out there and we hadn’t set out a forage, so something else was motivating Negra.

I politely excused myself from my grooming session with Jamie and went around the corner.

I found Negra, with her back to me, sitting just feet from the end of the raceway. She sat there for what seemed like five minutes, looking around silently. It was like she had just discovered it was spring. And maybe she had. Queen Negra is not one to savor the outdoors unless the conditions are just right. She prefers to lounge in her blanket nests and pass the time in leisure. But there was something about today that drew Negra outside.

Foxie was curious about Negra’s solo journey outside and watched from the greenhouse.

I realized at one point that I was holding my breath in anticipation, wondering if this was going to be the true day of emergence.

As she continued to just sit and look around, I thought to myself, “well, I guess this isn’t the day after all.”

And then it happened. She picked some grass, smelled it, and then began eating.

Then she walked further away from the greenhouse and sampled more:

Next she headed to the “cabin” we built just for her, where she tried some grass growing inside the structure:

Satisfied but still exploring, she wandered some more:

She found a little patch of dandelions and partook in a few.

That was apparently enough for day one, as she then headed back into the playroom to rest up until her next foray.

Happy Queen’s Emergence Day, everyone!

Actually, that is a good segue into a day for the queen that is in the works. June 13th is a very special day. It marks the 12-year anniversary of the arrival of the original seven chimpanzees to Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest and the day that we will be celebrating Negra’s 47th birthday. We were going to have our annual gala event in Seattle on that day, but the pandemic caused us to shift our plans.

We are still hoping to have the in-person event on September 18th (fingers crossed), but we didn’t want the significant June 13th party to pass by, so we will be doing our first ever virtual event!

We have a lot of fun things in store for you all. Below is a teaser.

queen's brunch virtual event

Burrito in Monochrome

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The chimpanzees’ world is full of color.

In the spring, the landscape blooms with eye-catching wildflowers and green foliage that seem to radiate color and warmth. Summers are characterized by deep turquoise skies. Crisp autumn days turn the surrounding meadows a shiny gold and decorate the surrounding forest with speckles of red, orange and yellow. Even now, in the deep winter, the muted skies and pale snow are overshadowed by the emerald tint of the numerous evergreen trees. Regardless of season, the busy Chimp House itself is always full of colorful blankets, enrichment, produce, tools, and even some sensible wall decor.

Despite all this light flowing around us, capturing compelling portraits of the chimps is usually difficult. For one thing, the chimps and humans are always separated by steel caging, a chimp-proof window or an electrified barrier. These structures wreak havoc on camera lenses and need to be focused out. Even when the chimpanzees are foraging or patrolling outdoors, they are often hundreds of feet away, obscured by dense foliage, or sprinting around the habitat (see: Missy). Sometimes, the bright sunlight creates harsh shadows that yield miserable photographs. Indoor lighting is also a challenge, to put it lightly, and using flash on an alert chimpanzee would be a horrible idea.

However, there is one place in the whole sanctuary where capturing portraits of the chimpanzees seems to be easier than anywhere else. Although it is formally known as Front Room 4, the staff often refer to one of the chimpanzees’ favorite locations as “The Portrait Studio” (1, 2, 3, 4). It’s popularity is likely due to the wide bench that is perfectly situated for looking down the hallway into the bustling kitchen and foyer. From the same vantage, they also can see out the window towards the garden, driveway, hay barn, neighboring cattle pasture, and even across the sanctuary to the opposite ridgeline. It’s a dream come true for nosy chimpanzees, but we caregivers appreciate the space for a different reason; the north-facing window bathes the chimpanzees in soft lighting that is well-suited for portraits.

When Burrito sat in that beam of diffuse light a couple of days ago, as he often does, I decided to snap a bunch of photos and then immediately forgot about them. Today, as I began to formulate a direction for today’s blog post, I rediscovered the series on my camera’s memory card. I then tinkered with the photographs in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, a program commonly used for organizing and manipulating images. Of all the edits I made, I realized that I liked the way Burrito looked without any color. Black-and-white suits Bubba well.

A century ago, most photography was monochrome (gray or sepia) by default. Now, omitting or removing the hue from an image is something photographers and filmmakers purposefully do in order to create a certain aesthetic. As far as our work at CSNW is concerned, I think such a practice has merit. By taking color out of the equation, I feel more attuned to how light flows into the chimpanzees’ home, across the imposing barriers that separate us from them, and onto their facial features. It showcases the depth of their physical space and reminds me that their world, which I can only explore in a superficial manner, has a similar profundity. Furthermore, anatomical structures like hairs, wrinkles, muscles, scars and callouses give character and topography to what would otherwise be registered as a homogeneous gray body. Perhaps this medium highlights some of their more peculiar nonhuman traits while simultaneously making such differences between us and them seem more trivial. Whatever is going on in our eyes and brains, I like portraying them in this way.

Below are my favorites from the series. During processing, I tried not to dramatically alter the overall lighting, hoping instead to preserve the reality of Burrito’s location and mood. What I did tinker with, however, was the relative luminance of the various hues in the photographs, thereby changing how colors contributed to the lightness and darkness in each. Using such a mixer enabled me to create distinct portraits that were taken only seconds apart. For perspective, you can look at the print on the wooden toy block in Burrito’s hand (which is actually dark green, but appears different in each edit). I think that each has its own tone, and perhaps tells a different story. I’ll let you all be the judges.

 

1. In this portrait, I brightened purple, magenta and red hues.

 

2. This portrait is composed of mostly green and cyan hues.

 

3. I brightened red and orange light in this version, dampening cooler hues.

 

4. For this edit, I allowed all hues to contribute equally to the image but altered the lighting as a whole.

 

5. The lighting in this version is mildly edited but I left the coloration intact.

The Tightrope Walkers

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Jamie and Missy have somewhat different life histories, but they definitely share some things in common.

 

Missy was born in a laboratory in 1975 and used both for hepatitis vaccine testing (and likely other types of biomedical research) and also for breeding. She had four infants, but she did not get to raise any of them.

 

Jamie‘s early life, on the other hand, is a little more of a mystery. We believe she was born in captivity, and we were told that she was raised in a human environment by an animal trainer for the first nine years of her life. She most likely was used within the entertainment industry. Perhaps she was trained to do tricks and loaned out for birthday parties, or maybe she performed in a circus or a roadside zoo attraction.

After “growing up human” during her formative years, she was then put into biomedical testing and, like Missy and all of the Cle Elum Seven, she was used for hepatitis vaccine research. As far as we know, she was never used to breed more chimpanzees.

 

One somewhat random thing that these two chimpanzees have in common is the joy they seem to get out of tightrope walking.

Given Jamie’s early history, you might wonder whether she was trained to tightrope walk as a youngster, and perhaps she was.

But Missy, as far as we know, spent her entire life before coming to the sanctuary in laboratory environments, and not ones that likely had ropes or fire hose or the room to tightrope walk.

In the wild, chimpanzees do a lot of their traveling on the ground, but, when in the jungle, they do traverse through trees and vines to get from one place to another and when playing, hunting, fighting (or running away from a fight), foraging for fruit, and finding a spot for a nest. With their opposable toes, they can grip branches and vines with their feet.

 

Most good captive environments for great apes include ropes or fire hose so that the apes can do what comes naturally to them. If you google “tightrope walk chimp” you will find all sorts of photos of chimpanzees and (apparently mislabeled) gorillas, orangutans, and gibbons in zoos and sanctuaries.

With chimpanzees who have grown up in laboratories, you really never know what they will be comfortable with and what they may decide to ignore or even be afraid of doing. We are unlikely to ever see Foxie tightrope walk, given her avoidance of non-sturdy surfaces, but we did spot Burrito trying out this activity for the first time earlier this month (sorry, we didn’t get a photo). They are all going for year-ten firsts lately!

Jamie and Missy, though, both seem to really enjoy this activity and will do it on their own apparently just for fun. I noticed recently that they do have different styles. I think this may have to do with their individual centers of gravity.

Missy is short and can glide across a fire hose without much need for outstretched arms for balancing:

 

Jamie, on the other hand, is long and lean and seems to rely on quite a bit of balancing assistance from her arms:

Whatever the origins of their common interest in this activity, I’m just glad they can now do it whenever they want.

 

Chimpanzee Displays: Causing a Ruckus

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J.B. shared a slo mo video of Jamie displaying yesterday (her slowed down vocalization sounds pretty intimidating!).

In keeping with the theme, below is a video of all seven chimpanzees taking part in displaying earlier today.

If you are interested in this sort of thing, you might also find this video that shows and explains a conflict among the chimpanzees, a fascinating watch.

 
Missy pant-hooting

 

Foxie’s 39th!

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Today we celebrated Foxie’s 39th birthday! It was a day filled with some of her favorite foods – lots and lots of fruit, fruit smoothie in shot glasses…

Foxie found a smoothie shot on the hill:

Foxie with a smoothie shot

Foxie drinking a smoothie shot

plus there were carrots, celery, more fruit, avocados, sweet potatoes, corn, and fresh-pressed carrot & apple juice!

 

There’s a video below, but first a few shots of the chimps enjoying the celebration in their own way:

 

Burrito looking for food:

Burrito searching for food

 

 

Annie chillin’ in the hammock:

Annie chillin in the hammock

 

Negra getting that last bit of coconut from the cup:

Negra with cup

 

Jody in her characteristic belly-to-the-ground position, finishing her meal:

Jody belly down

 

And Missy, who was not going to let a bit of the flaked coconut that was in this piñata go to waste.

Missy holding pinata

 

Not one…

Missy with her head in a pinata

 

 

little bit

Missy with her face in a pinata

 

There were several people who contributed to Foxie’s celebration, including Karen Young who provided decorations and money for food, Tracy H. who sponsored the day, Jayne R., and many people who sent Foxie Dora and troll dolls. Thanks for making her day special!

Enjoy the video!