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It's a Guy Thing...

6/26/2012

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Biologist Olivier with Chiquito

Former neighbor Tony with Chiquito

Neighbor Dave with Chiquito

       Olivier Castro Morales, our biologist, stopped by today for my signature on the first quarter report to MINAET. Chiquito was ecstatic. He could see and hear Olivier in the house, and chirped for ten minutes until we went out back. But when Olivier offered Chiquito a peanut in the shell (one of his favorite treats) he wouldn’t take it…until after Olivier leaned forward for a head embrace and pectoral sniff. The same thing happened with the second peanut. Greeting Olivier was more important to Chiquito than food.
      “When reuniting, A. geoffroyi males regularly exchange embraces and pectoral sniffs with one another and do so with much more frequency than females (K. Slater, C. Schaffner and F. Aureli, unpublished data).”   [Spider Monkeys; Behavior, Ecology and Evolution of the Genus Ateles, ed. by Christina J. Campbell, 2008.] Male spider monkeys develop strong relationships with the other males in their troop, perhaps because the females are the ones who disperse from the natal group. There’s a high degree of familiarity - and probably kinship - among them. So it’s not really surprising that Chiquito “adopted” the men he met during his first week with us, even though he’s only seen them half a dozen times each since then. Olivier, our biologist. Dave, the neighbor who slept in the cage with Chiquito the first night. Tony, a neighbor who kept Chiquito company the day our moving van was unloaded.
      What is surprising is that Chiquito has developed a strong dislike for women, which first became apparent the day his former surrogate mother came to visit. He displays aggressively, and most recently grabbed handfuls of hair through the chain link. I’ve been able to “detach” both women he did this to, but won’t give him a third opportunity.  And sadly, since the veterinarian we had examine Chiquito and Lolita when they arrived is a woman, it would be foolhardy for her to enter the cage now and we’ll have to find someone else who has experience with wildlife.

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Lolita's Quarterly Shower

6/23/2012

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BEFORE (and clueless)

DURING (and stunned)

AFTER (and recovering)

Every few months I decide Lolita smells a little horsey. It's not unpleasant, but normally neither of the monkeys has a body odor. So Lolita got her second shower today. No soap, just warm water...like getting caught in an afternoon downpour during the rainy season.

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The Monkeys Love Their...Blankets?

6/19/2012

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Shortly after arrival, Chiquito wraps himself in a security blanket.

Chiquito always keeps his blanket away from urine and feces.

     Shortly after Chiquito arrived I gave him bedding to use as a "crate pad" so he wouldn't have to sleep on the hard plastic bottom of the airline crate. He didn't use it as a mattress...he used it to cover himself. When I gave him two fuzzy "throws" he would just use one of them at a time.
     Animal behaviorist David Peiro told us Chiquito needed a "security blanket" which was how he initially used it, and sometimes still does. What I failed to "see" (since what we see and what we observe are different things) was that he also used it as an actual blanket...which is why I never thought to give one to Lolita.
     Chiquito spent his first two years living like a human child. He used the toilet and flushed, he drank milk from a sippy cup, and he slept in bed with his surrogate parents. So given the adage "monkey see, monkey do," it isn't surprising that Chiquito learned to cover himself with a blanket.

Lolita's "travel playpen" on wheels.

Lolita improvises a pillow and blanket..

Big yawn.

Lolita has two cages now; a large immobile metal dog crate in the great room, and the original (rabbit cage) playpen which I wheel around when I'd be out of sight otherwise. Lolita was on my arm the other day when I was cleaning the cages, and grabbed a hand towel I had thrown over my shoulder. Thinking that it would keep her entertained for a while, I tossed it in with her when I put her back in the playpen...and a blanket was born.
It's possible that, like Chiquito, Lolita is imitating us. She sleeps in her playpen on my side of the bed at night, and occasionally even snuggles in our bed for a while after lights out. It's also possible that it's a normal primate behavior to cover the body with something when sleeping (and vulnerable). So even though a blanket isn't "natural," maybe primates in zoos and laboratories (which aren't natural habitats) would be happier with blankets, too?

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Home Alone

6/15/2012

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       Paul is in the United States for his father's funeral and I'm home alone...unless you count two spider monkeys and a Golden Retriever. And in anticipation of me cleaning Chiquito's cage, we added a sliding bolt on the INSIDE of the cage door. That way I can lock Chiquito out in the double-door area (designed to prevent escapes) while I'm cleaning.
     There are a total of four doors (one from the garage into the escape hall, one at each end of the escape hall to the outside, and one from the escape hall into his cage), all of which have to be locked. This makes the logistics of entering the double door area via the garage and bringing in the hose from the outside more complicated than it sounds...not to mention that using the escape area to contain Chiquito means there is no other barrier between him and entry to the house (unless I want to lock myself out of the five remaining doors and close all the windows). It just never occurred to me that we would have to keep a monkey "out" when we designed the house.
     Chiquito would like to participate in the cleaning, as shown in these photos taken when I was inside his cage and he was in the hall, but I don't feel confident about handling his enthusiasm. I've seen Paul aim the hose at him when he got too rambunctious...

It always feels like a scene from a French movie as I go in and out the various doors, put Chiquito's food dish at the end of the hallway, let him out, and drag the hose into his cage. He grabs a piece of food and joins me before I have a chance to lock him out, so I wait until he goes back for something else to eat, bang the door closed, and slide the bolt. I glance out to make sure I put the clips on all of the other doors, but one of them is around a corner and I can't see it. (Note to self for future cage design.)
I don't mind cleaning cages. In fact I considered it a privilege when I volunteered in the Brazilian tapir exhibit at Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle...and the pay is still the same.

My foot gets "groomed."

      This morning turns out to be much like yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. I bonk my head on one of the tires hanging from the ceiling. I peer out into the hallway yet again to confirm that I put the clips back on the latches, although this time I try to see the reflection (in a window) of the door that's around the corner - with no luck.
     Chiquito is ecstatic when I finally open the door. He whinnies and hugs my head, offering me a pectoral sniff, and I shuffle out into the hallway to get the plastic chair wearing a monkey on my face. Then he sits on the chair while I carry it into the cage, I squeeze onto the seat beside him, and we share some quality time.
     Today my foot got sniffed, licked, and nibbled.  On the off chance that it was spider monkey foreplay, I dug into my pocket for raisins and Chiquito was easily distracted.
     We'll all be glad when Paul gets back, but I'm not really home alone. I have good company.

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Why Do Monkeys Bite? Because They Can.

6/10/2012

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Broken plastic crate clips.

      Why do monkeys bite? Because they can. Biting is an integral part of monkey communication.
      Like earthquakes (which are also caused by a sudden release of energy), the bites vary in intensity. And, like earthquakes, they tend to be part of a sequence of events.
      Chiquito has gotten more possessive about his cage recently, which started with his reaction to Paul taking the plastic crate down from the platform to wash a couple of weeks ago. Paul had removed the bungee cords and set the crate on the cage floor when Chiquito swung in on a tire. He picked up the crate…and slammed it back down with such force that six of the ten plastic fasteners sheared off on impact.
     1) A twelve pound monkey, and
     2) An FDA-approved crate used to transport animals safely, presumably even if dropped from the cargo hold of a jet onto the tarmac.
     The implications were sobering...

My temporary monkey tattoo.

     Yesterday Paul borrowed a pressure washer to clean the cage, which he had done once before without incident, and I sat outside with Chiquito on a leash. It quickly became apparent that the noise level and activity in the cage were too much for him, and I headed for the front yard. My mistake (because there always is one), was walking past the pressure washer instead of going around the long way past all of the gardening stuff I didn’t want Chiquito to grab.
     I remember seeing teeth and yanking down on the leash as Chiquito came up from the ground. He responded with three bites in rapid succession.
      A mere pinch to my left forearm didn’t leave a bruise. A harder pinch to my right upper arm was followed by a release – apparently for a better grip – and third bite almost in the same place. It hurt, but didn’t break the skin. It did leave an interesting tattoo that has since assumed shades of purple and yellow and green.
     Paul, wearing safety glasses and deafened by the roar of the pressure washer, was oblivious to what had happened. So I just said “NO!” and kept walking.
     Moments later Chiquito sat on my lap eating peanuts on the half shell. He lifted my shirt to look at my stomach, then lifted my arm and gently licked my arm pit (it's not the first time for either behavior and I have no explanation). He played in the mud in the flower bed and then, at my urging, in the garden hose on the lawn to wash off the mud.
      A half hour later when Paul came to find us nothing was out of the ordinary. Like with my fall onto Chiquito at the river, the excitement was over.
     This morning Paul left for the States for ten days. Here's hoping he doesn't miss any excitement...

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You've Come a Long Way Baby

6/4/2012

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     Lolita's growth curve, and my learning curve, won't always be as rapid as the first four-and-a-half months have been. But there's still so much I don't know and haven't experienced.
     The other evening a guest asked if Lolita ever bites me. I automatically said "No," almost scoffing at the suggestion. And it's true. When we're snuggling, or I'm tickling her, or I'm just wearing her around on my arm or ankle, she has no reason to bite me...and probably never will.

Restraint of primates in laboratories and zoos.

       But when I put her back in her cage? Or on the scale?  If I had to force her to take medication or give her a shot? She'd bite me in a second...given the opportunity. She hasn't bitten me because I follow the Monkey Rules (see the Home page). And when I do something that I know she'll object to, I handle her so she can't bite me (and sometimes even cover her head so she can't see, a trick I learned working with parrots).
     Animal behaviorist Dave Peirot demonstrated how to restrain a monkey using the technique illustrated in FIG 20.9 on the bottom left of the page from Restraint and Handling of Wild and Domestic Animals, Murray E. Fowler.
     I do a variation with Lolita more like FIG 20.11 on the bottom right. I circle the back of her head with my right hand; then I force her off me onto a large stuffed toy with my left hand, which she ultimately clings to; while still holding her head firmly. She squawks, I'm firm, and it's over.   And I always give her the opportunity to respond to a voice command first, so the choice is hers.
     I'll never be a monkey whisperer, but I'm becoming an educated handler, albeit fallibly human. So no, Lolita hasn't bitten me yet, although she probably will. The odds are just greater that Chiquito will do it first. He's older, male, more aggressive, and had a history of biting his surrogate mother before we got him.

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In the jungle with the monkeys.

Michele Gawenka

Jane Goodall has always been my hero, and working with primates an aspiration. Africa wasn't in the cards the summer I turned 16, when my parents offered to send me to volunteer, and there was only one class (in physical anthro-pology) when I wanted to study primatology in college.
Decades later my husband and I retired in Costa Rica, and this is our journey with spider (and howler) monkeys.