Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest

Hope. Love. Home. Sanctuary

Sanctuary

The business of being a chimp. And the business of being a human.

by

Someone once said to me upon hearing of some particularly stressful aspect of our work (I don’t even recall what, I think we were preparing for a medical intervention for one of the chimpanzees), that they were “surprised.” They thought we all “just stood around holding hands and singing Kumbaya.” Ah. A once soul felt call for divine intervention from oppression and suffering taken from its suspected origins of the enslaved ancestors of the Gullah Geechee people in Georgia, to its then soft-voiced folk appropriation in the name of peace and solidarity, now used more often as an eye-rolling, head-shaking, somewhat barbed reference to considered…naivety? Cockeyed optimism? For many reasons, I wasn’t sure whether to be curious or annoyed. I think I fell somewhere in the middle, which is where I suspect the comment was meant to land.

My thoughts have snagged on that barbed memory these weeks as we navigate the pure, undiluted stress, exhaustion, joy, fear, and well, reality, of introductions with the chimpanzees. I think we’ve all hinted to these expected and unexpected challenges in varying degrees in our blogs lately. Diana spoke beautifully and openly to this just the other day in her blog post. And I think one of the biggest personal challenges for most of us, certainly for me personally, is the aspect of personal responsibility. Knowing intellectually that we are making the best decisions we can for the chimpanzees doesn’t negate the weight on your heart for being one more human controlling their lives, putting them in situations that aren’t easy for them, that cause unavoidable stress, fear and discomfort, and probable injury.

Chimpanzees are loving, gentle, sensitive, joyful, nurturing, creative, highly emotional and intelligent beings. And they can also be violent and unpredictable faster.than.you.can.blink.an.eye. Literally. Even toward their friends. It’s the business of being a chimp. (Also a human, I might add). And as a side note, reason No. 189 chimps aren’t pets and never ever should be. But in the end, I envy chimpanzees and their nature of unapologetically expressing exactly what they feel at any given time, then promptly sorting it out and moving along. It’s also the business of being a chimp. (But not so much a human, I might add).

So while our chests clench and we hold our breath as we witness the chimps scream, fight and come up against their own comfort levels, fears and social skills, we also hold our hearts as we witness increasingly amazing moments. Like arriving in the morning to see Honey B and Negra playing a slow game of chase upstairs. Or watching Jamie and Mave become increasingly inseparable as we marvel at Jamie’s ability to finally forge a true bond with someone of her own species. Or seeing Honey B reach out to Missy for reassurance after a fight, watch Missy place her hands gently on Honey B’s arms as Honey B held her mouth to Missy’s brow and then, see Missy slowly take Honey’s arm and wrap it around her back in an embrace. My hand flew to my heart, I teared up over that one. Even though it meant something different to me than them, me knowing their mother-daughter connection, it was no less powerful or moving. Especially seeing the distance they’ve come going from avoiding one another completely to more often than not being seen playing chase or just sitting quietly with one another. Or to see dear Annie who spent the better part of the first week of introductions screaming at the top of her lungs, intensely breathy-panting and grunting at Willy B while grabbing his feet in some socially awkward over-the-top play and reassurance gestures while huge, massive Willy B sat quietly wiggling his feet, letting her be herself.

We have a long way to go and some more tough days ahead. But I am so proud and in awe of Mave, Willy B, Honey B, Jamie, Jody, Foxie, Burrito, Missy, Annie and Negra. And I’m proud and in awe of the far-reaching team of humans standing in the wings, doing everything we can think of for the chimps and holding the space, trusting they’ll figure it out. Trusting we will all figure it out.

The chimps spent the better part of this day quiet, lounging in the sun, grooming, resting and eating. Not a lot of which was done within camera range. But here’s Willy B enjoying the view from the top of the toasty greenhouse:

And Foxie peeking over her doll, nap interrupted:

A Break in the Action

by

Nothing exciting or noteworthy happened today.

That’s an exaggeration. We do, after all, have to manage a newly integrated group of chimpanzees and even the most stable groups of chimps have their drama.

Compared to the last few days, however, today was quite calm. There were some short bouts of screaming and slapping and lots of pant-grunts, but the arguments weren’t as loud and didn’t last as long. Honey B tried to extend one of the arguments by spitting water in Jamie’s face, but Mave acted as the referee long enough for Willy B to scatter everyone with a charge and a display. This situation, along with all the other conflicts, deescalated quickly. I don’t know if this stabilization marks a shift towards acceptance or if it is merely an aberration. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the chimps return to a more boisterous and confrontational state tomorrow.

Either way, today felt like a break and I’m taking what I can get.

Here are some photographs from today, along with a few from the past week. I hope that you all enjoy them.

Jamie grooms Mave this morning.
Honey B takes to the railing while playing with Negra this morning.
Jamie and Willy keep an eye on the Greenhouse today.
Jody pant-grunts at Willy B as he walks by.
Mave gently touches and grooms Jody.
Mave reassures Willy B during last week’s integration event.
Missy watches breakfast from her perch in the Greenhouse this morning.
Nutmeg
Meredith
Betsy
Honey

Becoming Mave

by

An old friend shared a story with us recently that moved me so much I felt compelled to share it with you.

As some of you know, Diana and I worked at the Fauna Foundation in Quebec in the late ’90s and early 2000s. During that time we got to know a few of the people that had known the Fauna chimps when they were at the lab, and the stories they shared were so helpful in our efforts to truly understand the chimps in our care. As it happens, Willy B, Honey B, and Mave were originally from the same lab – the Laboratory for Experimental Medicine and Surgery In Primates (LEMSIP) – and when we announced that we would be taking taking them in, our friend reached out with stories of their early years. She knew them well. In fact, she had helped raise them.

Now, if you’ve been keeping up with the blog you know that Mave is running the show right now. She is smart, brave, compassionate, and fair, and she has taken it upon herself to try to bridge these two families during a critical time. How she came to possess such wisdom and maturity will forever be a mystery, however, considering her early years:

LEMSIP tried to keep babies with their moms for one year before stealing them to live in the nursery (aka “wean”).  It was such a devastating time for baby and mom.  They tried to “wean” babies in pairs so that they would have each other and become cage mates.  They would become inseparable – literally.  Mave and Goliath were such a pair and had been together all their lives.  She was a bit anxious and he was her rock.  He died at the Waystation sometime last year.  They think it was a heart attack […] that is why I am pleasantly surprised that Mave is doing well.
Mave and Goliath in the nursery at LEMSIP
The picture of me in the cage with them shows one side of two 32″ monkey cages that had to be tunneled together for pairs of chimps in the nursery due to cage size violations.  LEMSIP had gotten a variance in the size requirement for years due to the founder utilizing the “dry system” – a stupid way to house primates – no hoses, no drains – just giant rolls of heavy plastic (like a giant roll of saran wrap) rolled out in layers under all the cages.  We had to hand wipe every wall and door and mop every floor.  He felt that avoiding aerosolization of fecal matter and reducing lingering dampness reduced illness like diarrhea.
Mave and Goliath with their caregiver at LEMSIP
I would go into the cage and play with and love on them after Mave stopped coming out. We would have to walk or carry the chimps to and from playrooms (no tunnels or shifting).  One day, I went to carry them to play and Mave would not let go of the cage.  We tried everything (blanket, treat, etc.) and that had never happened.  What typically happened was, sooner or later, older chimps would figure out that they could (and should) refuse to go back into a tiny cage after being out to play.  When that happened it was always their last time out.  It was always a sad, sad day.  But for a chimp to refuse to come out – even with their partner – was strange.  We even tried walking away with Goliath so that she could jump down and follow but she wouldn’t.  Eventually, we took him to the playroom to play with some friends in hopes of her gaining the courage to come out to us.  But instead she was very upset and screamed and cried.  He was so bonded to her that he couldn’t enjoy playing (even though they only got out once per week by that age). He got upset and needed to go comfort her so we brought him back.  After that, I would just have someone lock me in the cage to spend time with them […]
I share this story not to wallow in the cruelty of it all, but rather to marvel at what Mave has become, against all odds.

Second Meeting

by

Yesterday was our second round of introductions at the sanctuary. Negra and Jamie were introduced to Honey B, Willy B and Mave (who have been living with Missy, Annie and Jody since last week). Just like all intros, this one was stressful for both the humans on the sidelines and the chimpanzees in the thick of things. Fortunately, we continue to see progress, as friendships are starting to develop between the Cle Elum 7 and the new 3 from California. We are currently up to 8 individuals in 1 group, with Foxie and Burrito waiting patiently together in the Phase 1 expansion for their turn to integrate into the larger group.

On to the Next One!

by

We have made progress with our introductions. As of today, Jamie and Negra are now with Willy B, Mave, Honey B, Jody, Missy, Annie! The introduction has gone very well so far! Mave greeted Jamie and Negra with a warm embrace. Honey B partook in welcoming the girls in too. But Jamie and Mave really seem to be hitting it off! Mave has done a wonderful job defusing situations. For example, all the girls were screaming at Willy B who was in the green house. Mave shuffled the girls back into the playroom and then went to reassure Willy B. Jamie and Willy B seem to be fond of each other. However, individuals have been interrupting them once they finally get a moment alone! We don’t have a lot of photos or video because it is important that the humans not be involved or around too much while the group continues to build strong relationships. We are preparing a video from the introduction today! We are sorry for the delay, but the chimps and humans are very tired. As for future plans, if the 8 stay fairly stable our next step is to get Foxie and Burrito integrated soon and make it a group of 10!

In the meantime I hope you all enjoy these photos of Missy grooming Willy B this morning before the introductions started:

Shhhh!

by

Everyday is different. However, today is finally a quiet day. I know, I just jinxed it! There was less screaming, a lot of playing between Missy and Honey B (!!!), good grooming sessions, and most of the interactions were positive! It was going so well that we tried to tip toe around the chimp house to not disturb the calm! There is usually a little drama pre dinner, but overall a very quiet day. Everyday will vary and who knows what tomorrow will hold!

Negra looks so cozy:

Willy B foraging out in the Green House:

Mave:

Mave enjoying a beet!

Jody:

Honey B was guarding the playroom door. We have been trying to get in there to clean for a day or so now! However, Honey B has other plans.

Over in phase 1 Jamie would lay down on door I which separate the mezzanine from the front rooms and watch the volunteers and staff clean the front rooms. As you can see Jamie even has a water cup next to her. But the best part of Jamie observing everyone from the top, what you can’t seen, is the troll scarf she tied around her waist!

Jamie:

Foxie and Burrito played a lot of chase and wrestling together:

Burrito:

Days like today are refreshing. It means the group is getting more and more comfortable with each other. Which also leads us to start thinking about doing more introductions!

What’s in a Name?

by

One question that we receive pretty frequently is whether the chimpanzees had their names before coming to the sanctuary. The answer, for all of them, is yes. The laboratories or other facilities where they were born or who acquired them, gave them both numbers and names. The numbers were tattooed somewhere on their bodies, often across their chest or inside of their thighs. These numbers are surprisingly large, but we don’t see them very often because their hair has grown over the tattoos.

With Annie, Missy, Jamie, Jody, Burrito, Foxie, and Negra, their names followed them from one laboratory to another. For Mave, Honey B, and Willy B, they were named at the laboratory LEMSIP and their names stayed with them when they went to Wildlife Waystation when they were around five years old. All of the chimpanzees have been referred to by these names for most or the entirety of their lives.

The “B” after  Honey B and Willy B’s names signified that they were the children of chimpanzee mothers who were owned by the Buckshire Corporation, the same facility that owned Annie, Missy, Jamie, Jody, Burrito, Foxie, and Negra.

Upon learning this, some people have asked if we might drop the “B” from Honey B and Willy B’s names. I have definitely thought about this. But then I think about three things…

First, they have always had and been called these names. A name is just a word, but it does provide a part of their identity. I honestly don’t know whether the chimpanzees would be bothered if we started calling them different names, but I would find it strange for people I just met to call me by a name that was different than what I had been referred to for decades. (That said, we do have nicknames for everyone that we use interchangeable with their given names, like JoJo for Jody or Bubba for Burrito. I think this is different since nicknames develop over time.)

Second, one of the tragedies that occurred in their previous lives was being separated from their mothers and/or separated from their children. It’s possible to piece together relationships and genealogy when names have not changed. An ambitious project that demonstrates this is The Last 1,000 which is chronicling the last 1,000 chimpanzee used in biomedical research and identifying when they move from laboratories to sanctuaries or when they pass away. We knew Missy’s daughter Honey B was at Wildlife Waystation because Honey B’s name had not changed. Keeping their names, in my mind, respects relationships that were torn apart and helps us remember that behind each of those names, however the names came about, is or was a unique individual.

Third, why would we change Honey B’s name but not Burrito’s or Negra’s? Burrito is a very silly name. I don’t know who named him that or how that name came about, and I don’t really care to know. I don’t think I would ever name a chimpanzee Burrito. But Burrito is Burrito. He’s grown into the chimpanzee person he is over the last eleven years at the sanctuary. His name very uniquely identifies him, but you all know him because of the colorful personality behind his name.

Here’s Burrito looking out some windows in Phase 1, the new part of the building where he’s currently living:

Negra, the word for “black” in Spanish, is an equally strange and sometimes awkward name. But when I think of Negra I don’t think about the word negra, I think of a somewhat grumpy chimpanzee with blankets over her head who is asking me for her night bag. Or I think of this Negra, who had some serious all-over-body bedhead on Saturday:

If you read my blog post a couple of days ago, you know that I had a certain connection specifically to Honey B’s name before ever meeting her, having just seen her name on a piece of paper. The dog I named Honey B after her will always remain a part of my heart. Honey B the dog somehow grew into her name almost immediately. I don’t think she had a mystical connection to the chimpanzee Honey B, but I am so glad she carried her name. Here’s a photo of Honey B the dog, in case you are curious:

Willy B, Mave, and Honey B Chimpanzee have the opportunity to create new identities at Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest, but I would like to honor who they are and all the people who have known them over the years by keeping the names they’ve always had. They will reveal who they are little by little and we will know them for the unique and very special chimpanzee people they have always been.

So far, even though they are still at times anxious, Jody and Missy seem to appreciate getting to know the one and only Willy B. I found them both grooming him at the same time in the greenhouse on Saturday. He doesn’t look like he’s hating this attention….