Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest

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Sanctuary

Undercover Gorilla

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Terry loves to try to impress the ladies next door with his gorilla impression.

Chest-beating is not normally part of a chimpanzee’s behavioral repertoire. However, in areas where chimpanzee and gorilla territories overlap, such as the Republic of Congo, chimps have been seen imitating their gorilla cousins. Having been born in a laboratory, Terry couldn’t have learned his chest-beating from any gorillas, so he must have come up with it on his own.

Or could he actually be a gorilla disguised as a chimpanzee?

A Shaky Bridge on the Bray

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CSNW Founder, Keith, along with friends and family, spent the weekend improving the Bray habitat. We were able to turn a pile of leftover materials into a new tower, and we repurposed a shaky bridge that had to be taken down during our fence renovations. We also planted a few more trees with the hope that they’ll survive the chimps’ curiosity to one day provide some more shade at the bottom of the hill (thanks for the plum tree, Patti!).  The chimps took an instant interest in all of it—even Willy B braved the grass to check it out. Stay tuned for George’s reaction to the new climbing structures.

Many thanks to the whole crew for helping to build an even better Bray habitat.

Pausing for Connection

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As caregivers, our days are often jam-packed. We’re constantly on the move: cleaning, doing laundry, serving meals, washing dishes, training, doing more cleaning, and currently working on introductions with George throughout the week. With so much going on, it can be hard to slow down.

Yesterday, while I was cleaning in Greenhouse 2, Gordo and Cy each came over separately to play chase and hang out by the shared window, between Playroom 2 and Greenhouse 2. It was such a nice pause in the middle of a busy day, a reminder of what this work is really all about.

Foxie is especially good at getting her caregivers to take a break and spend time with her. She has her own way of inviting you in: she drops her doll and makes raspberry sounds until you pick it up and hand it back to her. But, before she’ll take it, you have to play. She loves being tickled with her doll, seeing you hug her doll, playing “troll ski,” or having her head gently rubbed with her doll’s head. Once she’s satisfied, she takes her doll back and strolls off on her way.

These moments that pause the busy routine to connect, are what make the work so meaningful.

Here is a portrait series of Foxie with Disney Simea (from Moana 2):

Lucky resting on a bench:

Gordo checking himself out through my camera:

The ever so handsome Cy:

Never Throw a Carrot at the USDA Inspector

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It’s one of those rules that seems too obvious to have to be stated. To be fair, George is learning the ropes here at Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest faster than we could have imagined. But recent events made clear that we omitted at least one important rule from his freshman orientation: Never throw a carrot at the USDA inspector.

While touring Jamie’s side of the building during a routine annual inspection for our Class C License, we were subject to a surprise aerial bombardment from the direction of the Bray.

We can at least be grateful for two things: One, while George has quite the arm, he has more work to do before he’s consistently hitting targets in the 20- to 30-yard range. And two, our inspector was gracious about it and didn’t hold it against us, judging from our clean inspection report.

Exhibit A: The projectile was later recovered from beneath the grape vines

Next time, George, save those carrots for the staff and volunteers, or even the occasional visitor if you have to. Just leave the folks in uniform alone. We’ve got a reputation to uphold.

 

Annie’s 51st Birthday!

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Today we celebrated Annie’s 51st birthday! Today’s party menu was really fun, all planned by our very own Dr. Erin Zamzow.

  • Obviously Sunflowers for Annie!
  • Lettuces bowls filled with rice noodles, tofu, green onions, cucumbers, red peppers, purple cabbage, with a drizzle of peanut sauce! (Annie and Foxie loved these bowls)
  • Heads of lettuce & bok choy
  • Lychee, Dragon fruit, & grapes were in the bowls or spread around as well!
  • And sparkling cider, to top it all off!

I honestly can say, I can’t believe Annie is 51, I hope I age as gracefully as she has! I love celebrating Annie because she is a quieter chimp. Annie is the type of chimp that is usually busy with her chimp friends and does not demand a lot from her caregivers. One could say she is a little bit more low key, which is why she deserves a big party to celebrate her. Annie is a genuinely sweet soul, she has many different layers to her, but to her core she is a gentle and kind, unless she is grooming, she is not so gentle then ;). It has been an honor to watch Annie turn 51 and see her flourish in sanctuary. Though she may be lower ranking, every year we watch Annie become more comfortable, a little bolder, and more content.

I also want to extend a heartfelt thank you to Paulette for generously sponsoring Annie’s birthday party today!

Jenna went out this morning to get more sunflowers from a local farm, you can never have too many sunflowers!                 

Annie and Foxie pretty much had a private party out on Young’s Hill, while everyone else foraged in the Greenhouse. Look out for the party video tomorrow!

Annie:

Bonus of Foxie:

One More Walk

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I can’t tell you how many times I have wished that Jamie would just go to bed.

On a typical day, we close off the chimps’ outdoor habitats around the time that they bed down for the night in the greenhouses and indoor playrooms. Given the sanctuary’s relative proximity to a public road and the unfortunate abundance of rattlesnakes in the area, we require at least two staff members to be on duty at the chimp house when the chimps are in the habitats so we can respond promptly to an emergency. Diana and I are on site nearby overnight, but we need to sleep, too.

If the chimps decline to go to bed after dinner, and instead decide to stay outside, the staff put in a little overtime. For most of the year, shorter days and cooler nighttime temperatures discourage late-night outdoor activities. But summer demands them.

Jamie has always had unique ways of exerting control over her caregivers. Some are obvious, like a spit in the face or a well-aimed handful of feces. Others are more subtle. Most nights, Jamie has a list of last-minute demands as we are closing up for the night. It could be a favorite pair of boots or a page torn from one of her books about bonobos. It’s not the items themselves that matter; if it were she could easily ask for them earlier in the day. It’s her way of deciding when the workday is over.

We’ll do just about anything to get Jamie what she needs before bed, but we could still close the chimp house door and walk away if we were so inclined. Not so when the chimps are on Young’s Hill. Jamie has been here for 17 years. She knows the rules, and how to use them to her advantage.

There have been summers when Jamie would keep us late almost every day of the week. If we were lucky she’d let us off after a couple extra hours. Other times we’d be here until 10pm, with only the moon to light our paths. And by late summer, after months of these long workdays, we’d be praying for Jamie to lose just a bit of her stamina. As we’d crest the top of Young’s Hill on our third or fourth walk of the evening, I’d look down to see the glow from my living room window. I’d imagine sitting down to dinner or sipping a cold beer on the porch. I’d imagine climbing into my own bed.

But with the flick of her wrist, Jamie would insist that we march onward.

Jamie was a walking machine then. Her record was 14 laps in a day, which adds up to about 3.5 miles up and down a hill with a more than 100-ft elevation gain. These days she rests more. She’ll make us wait while she climbs a tower and watches the sun set over the mountains. I don’t know if she’s gained more of an appreciation for the natural beauty of our surroundings or if she just needs an excuse to catch her breath. Perhaps it’s just another control tactic. Whatever the reason, these are some of my favorite moments.

Jamie and I were both 30 years old when we met. When you’re 30 you only think about the future. I’m speaking for the both of us here, but of course we can’t know for certain what chimpanzees think about. She certainly had nothing in her past worth remembering.

Now that we’re both a lot closer to 50, the walks feel different. There are fewer of them, and they feel more special. I can’t help but feel that for Jamie, too, they are imbued with nostalgia.

In hindsight, I can’t believe how much I used to hope that Jamie would let us go home on time. Now when she watches me close the door, I want to ask her:

Are you sure you don’t want to take another walk?