TRANSFERS BETWEEN FACILITIES

All the gorillas in my original Denver group - Joe, Maguba, Bibi and Ernie - were eventually transferred to other zoos.  I was personally concerned to know how they were doing, and I also realized this was another research opportunity.  I could document behavior changes following transfers, a topic that had not yet been formally addressed.  

photo:  Maguba, Dallas Zoo quarantine 1991

When a gorilla (or any other animal) is transferred to another zoo, it is faced with a host of new experiences.  S/he must cope with a new physical environment, new social group, new husbandry procedures, new caretakers and, in the case of international transfers, even a new language. That's a lot of change!  And, once again, the animal did not volunteer for this.

Let's start at the beginning of what the gorilla would experience.  A wild animal must be anesthetized to move it from its cage to a travel crate, and anesthesia is best done on an empty stomach.  Therefore, the day before their transfer, each gorilla was separated from its group and not given any food.  Being isolated is itself traumatic for a gorilla.  At the end of that day, even the water supply was turned off.  At this point, the gorilla could only wonder what was going to happen. The next morning, the veterinarian came to dart the gorilla with the anesthesia. (Fortunately, wonderful advances have been made in training some animals to voluntarily enter transfer crates, as well accept hand injection.)  When the gorilla awoke, s/he was in a travel crate that was later loaded into a truck for their journey.

An animal's journey can last hours or even days.  It was particularly difficult for one silverback, and the humans involved:  Gorilla In A Miff Flight Delayed After Primate Goes Ape In Cargo Hold | The Spokesman-Review     

Here are the stories of Joe, Maguba, Bibi and Ernie, as they navigated these chapters of their lives.  They went through a lot, and it's not going to be easy for me to write about.  But there were eventually some happy endings.

Joe (formally named Kabako) was born in the wild in 1963 and thus was genetically very valuable to the captive gorilla population.  He was raised by humans at the Birmingham Zoo, along with a female named Pongi.     

photo:  Joe (in background) and Pongi, 1966  

photo credit:  Randy Reid

When I first met Joe in 1989, he had been at the Denver Zoo for two and a half years and was housed with two females, Maguba and Bibi (photo at right).  I collected behavior data on Joe in Denver during the course of a behavioral enrichment study.  Here is Joe's activity budget in Denver:     

Feeding 30% of his day, locomotion 4%, R&R (regurgitation and reingestion of food) 0%, human interaction 5%, object manipulation 2%, inactive 55%, miscellaneous 4% 

I scored 23 affiliative social interactions between Joe and Maguba.

In November 1990 Joe was transferred to the Gladys Porter Zoo.  After his quarantine period, he was introduced to an established group (photo at right) consisting of an adult female (Katanga), two juvenile females (Penny and Mary), and a juvenile male (Cassius).       

Four short months later, Joe was hospitalized at the zoo clinic due to severe weight loss and muscle wasting, as well as non-regenerative anemia.  He was unable to digest food and had lost a stunning 125 pounds since his arrival at Brownsville. He spent the next seven months recovering at the clinic and was returned to the gorilla group in October 1991.

Now knowing what dramatic effects a transfer can have, I made plans to travel to Brownsville to observe Joe.  He was still housed with the same gorillas.  The gorilla enclosure was an old sea lion exhibit surrounded by a shallow moat (photo below), which the young gorillas used a lot, especially in hot weather.  The entire enclosure was visible to the public.  Another silverback (Lamydoc) was housed in an adjoining enclosure, and he spent some time observing Joe's group (photo below).  One day he and Joe exchanged a series of chest-beating displays.  All the gorillas spent nights in the same holding building.  In the prior years, Lamydoc had impregnated Katanga an amazing 17 times!  It was hoped Katanga might teach Joe how to mate.        

Here Joe's activity budget, including differences from his Denver baseline:

Feeding 16% (-14%), locomotion 2% (-2%), R&R 2% (+2%), human interaction 0% (-5%), object manipulation 2% (same), inactive 75% (+20%), misc. 1%.  Joe also spent 2% of his time in self grooming (regarded as an indication of stress or boredom), which I had not scored for him in Denver.

The only social interactions I scored were when Joe tossed bits of food at another gorilla twice in an apparent attempt to engage them.  He would sometimes stand rigid or hit toward another gorilla who walked by.  Joe stayed in a small grotto (photo at right) and the rest of the group carried on their lives around him (photo below).  Mary did seem smitten with Joe (photo below), and I hoped she might draw him into the group, but that did not happen.  Joe seemed to be intimidated by all the other gorillas in the group and never directed dominance behaviors toward any of them.

Joe appeared uncomfortable in the exhibit and spent most of his time in the grotto, venturing out only to collect food (photo below), which he brought back to the grotto to eat (photo below). Toward the end of my observations, he did appear more relaxed and began spending a small amount of time out in the exhibit.  In the evening, Joe would wait by the door to be let inside for the night.  I was told he spent his first week in the exhibit by this door.

Several times Joe emitted a "hoot cry" vocalization, which I had never heard from him before. This gorilla vocalization is associated with distress and separation from other gorillas.  It was heartbreaking.

Joe suffered two more life-threatening health crises, with stress identified as the cause.  As someone at the zoo told me, it's hard to be somewhere where nobody likes you.  In 1995 the veterinarian, Dr. Michelle Willette, decided Joe would not return to the gorilla exhibit, and he spent the next 8 years in a small cage at the clinic (photo at right), with nowhere else to go.  I am so grateful to Dr. Willette and her staff.  They saved Joe's life.

They had contacted me when Joe originally became ill about any enrichment he might like.  Well, being raised in the south, Joe loved his grits.  Grits were part of his diet in Birmingham and had helped him adjust when he moved to Denver.  So grits were added to his diet in Brownsville.

I informed Dr. Willette about a sanctuary called Gorilla Haven which was being constructed by Jane and Steuart Dewar, and I let Jane know about Joe's situation. The Dewars traveled to Brownsville to meet Joe, and it was decided he would be Gorilla Haven's first resident.

I returned to Brownsville to collect data on Joe prior to his transfer to Gorilla Haven.  By this time Joe also had a small outdoor area (photo at right).  While observing him outside, I decided to remain stationary so he could position himself out of my sight if he wanted to, which he did during 8% of my observations.  He was rarely out of sight in Denver and didn't have that option in the Brownsville gorilla enclosure.

Joe exhibited a new behavior - a small amount of rocking back and forth.  He had also become adept at communicating his displeasure with humans by spitting water at them, a behavior that is not uncommon with captive great apes.

Here is Joe's clinic activity budget, along with differences from the Brownsville gorilla exhibit:     

Feeding 13% (-3%), locomotion 4% (+2%), R&R 6% (+4%), human interaction 6% (+6%), object manipulation 5% (+3%), self grooming 5% (+3%), inactive 60% (-15%), misc. 1%

Joe seemed fairly content at the clinic.  His indoor cage was by the kitchen, and he had visitors and treats.  He had become adept at begging for food by clapping his hands or snapping his fingers, some of which he directed at me.  One of the employees was doing some training with Joe, and he obviously enjoyed the attention.  His outdoor cage faced the street that separated the zoo from an adjoining neighborhood, and neighbors could stand at the zoo perimeter fence and talk to Joe.

Joe was getting the attention and care he deserved, and it was a pleasure to see him healthy and content.  But his physical and social environments were far from optimum for an adult gorilla

In March 2003 Joe was transferred to Gorilla Haven, a truly magical place in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Georgia.  Gorilla Haven had fast tracked the completion of their first "gorilla villa" to accommodate him.

Joe had two adjoining indoor areas with two attached outdoor cages, all with abundant vertical space (photos below).  For the first time in 13 years, Joe had opportunities to climb and build up his muscles.  At this point the outside yard was not yet fully secured, but that didn't seem important.  In Denver Joe spent very little time in the outside yard, and he certainly didn't enjoy the Brownsville gorilla yard.  Joe had a good relationship with his keeper Kelly Maneyapanda (photo at right) and had many human friends (photo below).

Once again, I gave Joe the option to be out of my sight, which he chose to do 10% of the time. Here's his activity budget, as well as differences from the Brownsville clinic:

Feeding 20% (+7%), locomotion 4% (same), R&R 2% (-4%), human interaction 2% (-4%), object manipulation 2% (-3%), self grooming 4% (-1%), inactive 66% (+6%)

There were always plenty of enrichment objects - tubs, balls, wooden spools - in Joe's enclosures, but he rarely interacted with them.  This was consistent with his behavior in Denver.  Joe exhibited positive behavior changes - an increase in feeding, as well as decreases in abnormal behaviors and self grooming.  I think the increase in inactivity was actually a positive change as well, as it was a reflection of the fact that Joe was very relaxed.

I returned to Gorilla Haven to observe Joe when he had access to his yard area (photo at right). During data collection I positioned myself in the keeper/observation area above the outdoor cages (photo below).  I recorded not only his behaviors, but his location in his enclosures.  Here are his activity budget and differences from his 2003 behaviors:     

Feeding 22% (+2%), locomotion 4% (same), R&R none (-2%), human interaction 1% (-1%), object manipulation .3% (-1.7%), self grooming 3% (-1%), inactive 70% (+4%)

Joe spent 6% (-73%) of his time in the indoor enclosures, 67% (+61%) in the two outdoor enclosures, 26% on the cement apron (photo below) between the outdoor enclosures and the grassy areas, and 1% on the grass (photos below).

In comparing his locations in 2003 and 2005, his times spent in indoor enclosures and outdoor areas flip-flopped, and seemed to correspond with my viewing location.  Was he keeping an eye on me?  It's possible, since he didn't have any group members to keep tabs on.  Just by being present, we observers can have an affect on behaviors.  Or maybe more food was distributed outside in 2005.  But he frequently brought food from indoor areas outside to eat.  Did his access to the yard have an effect?  Just one of the many instances when I wish I could crawl inside a gorilla's mind and see what's going on in there!

Over all these years, Joe and I never really interacted.  Quite frankly, I found him intimidating, and I always respected his space.  But during this last observation at Gorilla Haven, we had a friendly interaction, albeit punctuated by Joe hitting the glass between us.  He came to see me (photo below) as I stood at a window in the enclosure wall where he sometimes received treats (photo below).  I put my finger on the glass and he responded by touching his hand, then his tongue, to his side of the glass where my finger was.  I knelt down and we looked into each others' eyes.  He snapped his fingers, asking for a treat.  I told him I didn't have anything, and he walked away.  I cannot express how much this meant to me.  Joe was doing fine.

In looking at Joe's behaviors, it's important to keep in mind how much time had passed.  In Denver in 1989 Joe was 25 years old, in his prime.  At Gorilla Haven in 2005 he was 41 years old, an elderly gentleman in gorilla years.  Joe died in 2012, at the age of 48.  Considering all he had been through, that age was downright amazing.  Gorilla Haven provided a wonderful and well deserved "retirement" for Joe.

Maguba was born in the west African country of Gabon in 1971 and was about seven months old when she arrived at the Denver Zoo.  She weighed a mere 14 pounds and was human reared in a nursery area in the primate building.  She eventually had a baby baboon for a companion, in addition to the zoo's only female keeper.  (Times have certainly changed!)

photo: Maguba, Denver Zoo 1972  

photo credit:  Denver Zoo Review     

Over the years, Maguba was housed with four different silverback males in Denver, and she was very successful at interacting with them.  But she was evidently infertile, as she never became pregnant.  She was attracted to human infants and would often come to the glass to watch a human baby.

Maguba (photo at right) participated in my behavioral enrichment research at the Denver Zoo, which began in 1989.  She was so quick and smart, I couldn't come up with enough ways to challenge her.  One day I put half a banana on the floor outside the mesh door of the exhibit to see how Maguba would solve that problem (photo below).  Before I could sit down and adjust my camera, she was already eating the banana!  She had raked it in with a stick.       

As we continued with this exercise, she began bringing objects to me, with an "I give you this and you give me the banana" look on her face.  She even brought me a burlap bag and threaded it through the mesh, then waited expectantly for me to put the banana in the bag and give it back to her.  This made perfect sense - we were giving the gorillas treats inside burlap bags.  She eventually gave up on me and used a combination of stick and bag to retrieve the banana (photo below).

I last observed Maguba in Denver in 1991, collecting 20 hours of data on her. She was housed with an adult female Bibi (photo below) and a subadult male Ernie (photo below).  Following is Maguba's Denver activity budget:     

Feeding 45% of her day, locomotion 4%, R&R 4%, self grooming 2%, human interaction 1%, solitary play 2%, inactive 41%, misc. 1%

Maguba spent 22% of her time engaged in enrichment activities.  She was very proficient at making and using tools, spending 15% of her time using tools to access food (photos below). She was involved in 16 affiliative social interactions with Bibi (photo below) and/or Ernie.     

Maguba and I had enjoyed a wonderful two years.  I usually visited with her at the end of each research day, and she often searched the gorilla enclosure to find little treats to give to me - an alfalfa flower, dried pea, sprig of dried oats. Sometimes she was hoping for something in return; sometimes it was just a gift.  

On June 24, 1991, Maguba was transported by truck to the Dallas Zoo.  I was told that she ate her way to Dallas, enjoying treats along the way.  She could see out the truck windshield and entertained herself by watching the passing landscape. After a forklift had positioned her crate at the door into her Dallas enclosure, folks were having trouble lifting the crate door.  Maguba ducked under the door and exploded out of the crate and into the enclosure.  She had arrived!

Maguba's quarantine at the Dallas Zoo took place in the old gorilla exhibit (photo at right), which was spacious for one gorilla.  It was composed of three adjoining cages, plus a back holding area.  There were bars on the cages and then a keeper walkway, with glass and a railing separating the public from the exhibit (photo below).  It was a bit off the beaten path for zoo visitors, and Maguba looked for any people who might pass nearby (photo below).

The first day I arrived at the exhibit, Maguba spent some time displaying at me, running along the bars, banging on doors, beating her chest.  It was quite a greeting!  Bob Hamill, the Denver keeper who had traveled with Maguba, was still there, and Maguba pleasure rumbled to both of us.

I observed Maguba while she was in quarantine and collected 13 hours of data. Following is her activity budget, as well as differences from her Denver baseline: 

Feeding 8% (-37%), locomotion 25% (+21%), abnormal 1% (-3%), self grooming 6% (+4%), human interaction 11% (+10%), investigation of cage features 2%, inactive 47% (+6%)

The decrease in Maguba's feeding time was dramatic.  I was later told that she did not eat well at first, perhaps due to a different diet.  Her diet did include browse, and we put treats in burlap bags I had brought.  I had also brought one of the plastic treat boards from Denver, and Maguba enthusiastically made and used tools to dig food out of it.

Maguba's large increase in locomotion was mainly due to a great deal of nervous pacing (photo below) and rushing from room to room.  Her agitation was also reflected in an increase in self grooming.  Although abnormal behaviors decreased (R&R and ear covering), she did add another stereotypic behavior - biting the bars of the cage.

Maguba's increase in public interaction was very interesting.  When she saw people passing by, she would frantically tap on the cage bars with her fingers, inviting them to come visit her.  If young visitors arrived, Maguba would parallel walk or parallel run with them, often initiating these bouts of play.  She intently watched people and displayed at them.  Fortunately, after an article about Maguba appeared in the local newspaper (see below), more people came to see her.  It was clear she missed having social companions.

I wondered if Dallas Zoo's hands-off policy may have contributed to her frustration.  This policy required keepers to avoid developing personal relationships with the animals, so the animals would just interact with members of their own social group and would maintain natural behaviors.  This policy sounds reasonable, but with gorillas (and other species) a close, trusting bond with the humans who are responsible for their care is essential.  And Maguba was certainly used to interacting with her caregivers.

Maguba was extremely agitated, nervous and sometimes scared, and she appeared to be very lonely.  It was difficult to watch.  She kept an eye on me and got upset whenever I started to leave.  I'm glad I was able to visit with her.  She continued to give me little gifts, and I wished I could help her more.

I returned to observe Maguba in the Dallas Zoo's new gorilla exhibit, which had recently been completed.  The exhibit consisted of two large outdoor habitats, as well as spacious indoor community rooms (photo below) and bedrooms. The outdoor habitat had several public viewing areas and a Research Station.  The habitat was full of lush plantings, varied terrain, misters, streams and ponds.  All the humidity had done wonders for Maguba - her skin was dark and glistening, her coat lustrous and fluffy.

Maguba was housed with a female gorilla named Timbo, who was incredibly sweet and friendly (photos below).  I still have some straw she gave to me.  Timbo had moved around a lot to different zoos and had not been successful interacting with silverbacks.  She had a thyroid problem and weighed over 300 pounds, approaching the weight of a small silverback.  The average female gorilla weighs about 200 pounds.  I imagine silverbacks didn't know what to make of Timbo.

The other three Dallas gorillas - silverback Fubo (photo below) and females Demba and Jenny - were in a separate group.  Demba had some interesting behaviors.  She was famous for her dance moves, pirouetting like a ballet dancer. She also was a tree hugger when in the outside habitat (photos below).

Various introductions and groupings had been tried, and at one point Maguba was with all three females.  The caretakers felt she was happier then and perhaps was the dominant female. There had been an attempted but unsuccessful introduction of Timbo to Demba and Fubo.  Things didn't go well after Timbo struck Fubo, even though she tried to appease him by offering her pronated wrist.  It was decided that Timbo and Fubo could not be together, and Maguba was chosen as Timbo's social companion.

When Maguba noticed me in the crowd on my first day at the gorilla habitat, she displayed out of sight, peeking her head out a couple times, then ducking back out of sight.  After a bit I heard rustling below and looked down at the base of the wall.  There was Maguba, who had found a piece of cellophane and was posturing with it between her lips, adding to the effect of her display.  She moved up the hill behind some vegetation, but soon she appeared again and began displaying along a plateau.  By this time Timbo had approached to see what was going on, and she and Maguba began to exchange displays.

In the coming days, I had to resort to averting my eyes when Maguba looked my way.  It is common practice to avoid direct eye contact with gorillas who are unfamiliar, but I had never needed to do this with Maguba.  I spent 14 days observing Maguba, and she didn't calm down until the last two days (photo below).

All timed data were collected while Maguba and Timbo were out in the habitat. During 22% of observations, I watched Maguba from public outdoor viewing areas, the Research Station, or a restricted research trail.  However, Maguba usually reacted to my presence by displaying (photo below) or hiding behind vegetation (photos below), and there were also hidden areas in the habitat.  I became adept at lurking behind vegetation (photo below), but Maguba also became adept at spotting me.  Therefore, 78% of the data was collected inside the gorilla holding building or the Research Station via remote cameras that were located around the habitat.

I discarded data from the first two days when we were both getting used to the new observation conditions.  In the remaining days, I collected 19 hours of data. Here's Maguba's activity budget, as well as differences from her quarantine in Dallas:

Feeding 21% (+13%) of her day, locomotion 5% (-20%), R&R .3% (-.7%), self grooming 3% (-3%), human interaction 3% (-8%), solitary play/investigation 0% (-2%), inactivity 66% (+19%), misc. 2%

It's probably more instructive to compare Maguba's activity budget at the Dallas gorilla exhibit with her Denver baseline when she was housed with Bibi and Ernie:

Feeding 21% (-24%) of her time, locomotion 5% (+1%), R&R .3% (-3.7%), self grooming 3% (+1%), human interaction 3% (+2%), solitary play 0% (-2%), inactivity 66% (+25%), misc. 2%

I recorded 15 social interactions between Maguba and Timbo.  Maguba displayed at Timbo 3 times, and the two of them mutually displayed 4 times.  These 7 displays compared with 16 affiliative social interactions in Denver with Bibi and/or Ernie, most of which were displays. Maguba was displaced by Timbo 8 times. Timbo was a load, and Maguba definitely got out of her way when she displayed past.  None of these social interactions in Dallas seemed aggressive, but I wouldn't call them friendly either.  It just seemed like Maguba and  Timbo were still sorting out their relationship.  Also, when Maguba displayed at me, it sometimes inspired Timbo to display.

Dominance between Maguba and Timbo was unclear.  Caregivers felt Timbo was dominant outside, while Maguba was dominant indoors.  Timbo was very food oriented, and Maguba deferred to her in feeding situations.  Maguba always moved aside to allow Timbo to go in for the night, but Maguba always went out into the habitat first.  I saw Timbo displace Maguba, but never observed Maguba displace her.       

Sometimes it seemed Timbo wanted to hang out with Maguba, but Maguba always moved away, looking over her shoulder when Timbo followed her.  It's important to note that the only gorilla in Denver with whom I saw Maguba have friendly social contact was the silverback Joe.  Female gorillas usually find themselves competing for access to the silverback, and there's not much advantage in forming bonds with each other, unless they need to put the silverback in his place.

Maguba's decrease in feeding time and increase in inactivity at least partially reflected the fact that she had been an enthusiastic participant in feeding enrichment in Denver.  In the Dallas outdoor habitat, Maguba did take advantage of new feeding opportunities.  She searched for and ate grasshoppers (her favorite treat in Denver was live mealworms), and she also foraged through the vegetation and browsed on the bushes and small trees.  I was told she had a habit of repeatedly pulling up any new trees they planted, and staff finally resorted to placing thorny blackberry vines around new plantings.

It was good to see that Maguba's locomotion decreased markedly from quarantine.  I was surprised it hadn't increased more from Denver, since she had so much more area to roam (photo below).  Self grooming decreased from quarantine, indicating Maguba was less nervous, but it was still higher than Denver.  Human interaction consisted of Maguba watching and displaying at me.

During data collection Maguba spent no time in solitary play and object manipulation.  While outside in their complex habitats, the gorillas were not given any objects.  Indoors all the gorillas received various puzzle feeders, but only Maguba used tools.  Fubo's group received fabric indoors.  Maguba had enjoyed burlap bags in Denver and in quarantine, but was not able to have them or fabric in the Dallas gorilla exhibit because Timbo ate it.  When I first gave burlap to the Denver gorillas, this was something I had to watch out for.

Although Maguba spent time in all areas of the outdoor habitat, 31% of observations were by the closed shift door to her indoor holding spaces.  She often wedged herself into the closed doorway, frequently covering one or both ears (photo below).

However, she appeared nervous when she was indoors and paced a lot.  Also indoors she exhibited a new vocalization, the hoot-cry, which is typically emitted by gorillas who are separated from other group members.  I had never heard her make this cry before.  One of the caretakers said Maguba typically did this when Hugh Bailey, a gorilla keeper Maguba especially liked, was out of the building. One day I counted her hooting over 20 times, and she stopped when Hugh returned.  Timbo often beat her chest in response to Maguba's hoots.

Maguba had developed another new vocalization, one I had never heard before from Maguba or any other gorilla.  The best I can describe it is a short cough-scream.  (If any of you gorilla folks out there are familiar with this vocalization, I would be interested in your input.)  I was told this was sometimes the prelude to a screaming tantrum by Maguba that was associated with, for example, keeper delay in opening doors.  I had never previously observed this type of behavior by Maguba.  She later developed a persistent abdominal abscess, like Bibi had.

Hercules, another silverback male, was scheduled to arrive at the Dallas Zoo a few days after I left.  He would eventually be introduced to Maguba and Timbo, and I was glad for Maguba. I hoped she would be happier with a male to wrap around her little finger.