Chiquito has mellow mornings and feisty mornings.  This morning he was feisty, and managed to twist the bottle so it fit into the chain link like a puzzle piece…which he then yanked  into the cage. 
     I didn’t have my camera to capture his impersonation of a drunken sailor, but suffice it to say Chiquito had his own party.  And his last bottle. 

     In  one of his later experiments, Harlow demonstrated that young monkeys would also turn to their cloth surrogate mother for comfort and security.  Using a strange situation, Harlow allowed the young monkeys to explore a room either in the presence of their surrogate mother or in her absence. Monkeys in the presence of their mother would use her as a secure base to explore the room. 
    When the surrogate mothers were removed from the room, the effects were dramatic.  The young monkeys no longer had their secure base to explore the room and would often freeze up, crouch, rock, scream, and cry.”  Wikipedia

     The thing about interacting with monkeys is that you know your time is coming.  Monkeys bite.
     And Chiquito was wired.  He moved through the trees like he never has before.  Like a monkey should.  But he didn't want to play alone and Lolita was having nothing to do with him.   
     Chiquito swung at me from behind.  Hard.  And I took a header. During the rainy season the "path" is wet red mud, littered with slippery leaves.  
    Paul wasn't there to help, or to capture the moment on film.  Because ironically, I had just said, "let's leave now and end this outing on a high note" and he'd gone back to the river to retrieve Chiquito's leash, which had been left behind.
     As I fell forward Chiquito somersaulted over my head and landed beneath me on his back .  We were face to face when I  reached out to catch myself  (Lolita still clinging to my left arm)  and planted my right hand on Chiquito's chest,  pinning him to the ground.  I had broken the cardinal monkey rule.
     The only other thing I remember is closing my eyes.     
      When Paul returned he asked why there was mud all over Chiquito's back.  He didn't notice the red mud on the knee of my pale green pants.  Or that my hair was unusually disheveled.
     But Chiquito had played fair.  Since he was the one who knocked me down, perhaps he accepted the consequences?  We were both just a little muddier for the experience.     
    

Two females. (Left) A. geoffroyi ornatus and (right) A. geoffroyi frontatus.
Lolita and Chiquito belong to the subspecies A. geoffroyi geoffroyi.