Unlikely Friendships
Page 4
{CALIFORNIA, U.S.A., 1984}
The Gorilla and the Kitten
WESTERN LOW LAND GORILLA
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Primates
FAMILY: Homonidae
GENUS: Gorilla
SPECIES: G. gorilla
This tale has become a classic, revealing just how capable of emotion some of our closest nonhuman relatives are.
Koko the gorilla had a best friend that fit in the palm of her hand.
It was 1984 when the 230-pound ape, taught to communicate in American Sign Language, drew two fingers across her cheek like whiskers. It was a signal to her teacher at the Gorilla Foundation, Francine “Penny” Patterson, that she wanted a cat for her birthday. The teacher wasn’t surprised; she had been reading to Koko for years, and the ape’s most beloved stories were “The Three Little Kittens” and “Puss in Boots.” Unfulfilled by a stuffed animal, Koko was eventually given her pick from a litter of abandoned kittens. She chose a morsel of fur so tiny the gorilla could have crushed him with barely a squeeze. Instead, she cuddled the tailless gray male like a child would a doll, and named him All Ball.
Koko was smitten. She treated Ball as other gorillas treated their babies, carrying him tucked in her thigh, trying to nurse him, tickling and scratching him, even playing dress-up by draping napkins over his body and head. Seeming to know her own strength, she handled him gently, even tolerating his kitten bites without a hint of aggression in return. When asked by her teacher if she loved her little Ball, Koko signed, “Soft, good cat.”
The relationship was cut sadly short. The winter after Koko took the kitten in, Ball escaped the gorilla enclosure and was hit by a car. Those working with Koko say the ape’s tremendous sadness was clear, revealed in hand gestures, her silent language of grief, and her crying calls.
In a National Geographic article about the remarkable ape, her signed words were translated this way:
When asked if she wanted to talk about her loss, Koko gestured: “Cry.”
“What happened to your kitty?” her trainer asked.
“Sleep cat.”
Pointing to a photo of a cat that resembled Ball, Koko’s big hands spoke again:
“Cry, sad, frown.”
But in gorillas, as in humans, time heals even deep wounds, and there is room in the heart to care for another. Koko soon bonded with two new kittens, Lipstick and Smoky. Her mothering instinct rekindled, the gorilla impressed her human caregivers again by showering gentle affection on animals so unlike herself.
THE GORILLA FOUNDATION KOKO.ORG
Dedicated to the preservation, protection, and well-being of gorillas, this foundation, established in 1976, is best known for its groundbreaking work with two western lowland gorillas, Koko and Michael, who were taught to become fluent in American Sign language (ASL).
{SOUTH AFRICA, 2006}
The Hippopotamus and the Pygmy Goat
HIPPOPOTA MUS
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Artiodactyla
FAMILY: Hippopotamidae
GENUS: Hippopotamus
SPECIES: Hippopotamus amphibius
CAMEROON MOUNTAIN GOAT (PYGMY GOAT)
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Artiodactyla
FAMILY: Bovidae
GENUS: Capra
SPECIES: Capra aegagrus hircus
Humphrey the hippo arrived at the Rhino and Lion Nature Reserve at about six months of age. The reserve is best known for the animals listed in its name, especially the endangered rhinos that have been successfully bred there in the last decade. But other species are also welcome on the grounds—as was the case with Humphrey.
According to Lorinda Hern, whose father Ed owns the South African facility, the hippo had been completely hand-reared. He’d lived inside a house with his human “family” and lounged around in their backyard pool until he grew too huge for domestic life. At that point the family tried to keep him outside, but Humphrey, spoiled by his days as a house pet, would have none of it. He broke down doors to get back inside.
Perhaps his fervor shouldn’t have been surprising. A hippo isn’t the kind of animal to sit quietly and take whatever comes—unless it is relaxed and wallowing in a cool river. Mostly, hippos aggressively guard their territory. And though they may seem slow and lumbering, they can run over 20 miles an hour. In Africa, many consider the hippopotamus to be the most dangerous of all wild creatures, as they are said to kill more humans than any other large animal—including crocodiles and lions.
Fortunately, in the case of the human-friendly Humphrey, there was never any fear of an intentional attack. It was just the unintentional “collateral damage” of keeping a 4-ton hippo in a house that finally pushed his owners over the edge, which is how Humphrey ended up on the reserve.
Once he was there, the staff decided to introduce Humphrey to a “friend” right away to keep him from getting lonely and possibly acting out his frustrations again.
Enter one Cameroon mountain goat (also called a pygmy goat). The two seemed unconcerned by differences in size and species, and each found a friend in the other. The goat proved to be a somewhat unfortunate role model, however. Cameroon mountain goats are endlessly curious, excellent escape artists, and notorious climbers quite capable of scaling a fence or even getting onto the roof of a building to see what’s there. And the hippo, already prone to poor behavior, seemed content to copy his bovid friend’s antics. He’d happily climb the fences of his pen—as much as a hippopotamus can be said to “climb” anything—and he’d surprise terrified tourists into giving up the contents of their picnic baskets.
Despite the mischief, the friendship did provide much-needed company for the lone hippo. And here comes the even more unexpected finish: Just before Humphrey was transferred to a private reserve elsewhere, he was discovered to be … a she!
{NEW YORK, U.S.A., 2008}
The Iguana and the House Cats
IGUANA
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: R eptilia
ORDER: Squamata
FAMILY: Iguanidae
GENUS: Iguana
SPECIES: I. iguana
Many peculiar things can be seen wandering the streets of New York City, but iguanas aren’t typically among them. Yet one day, at Seventy-First Street and Thirteenth Avenue in Brooklyn, an iguana ambled past a man who, after a double take, decided the animal just didn’t belong. He snatched it up with plans to give it a home, but his wife was less than thrilled. “You’re not bringing that thing in here,” she declared. So he called a friend with a giant soft spot for animals.
Rina Deych is a registered nurse and often does volunteer work on animal welfare issues. Her apartment already a zoo, she took the foot-long iguana without question and quickly researched what he needed. She bought an enclosure, humidifier, heaters, and special bulbs that mimic sunlight. “I was pleased that at least he was vegetarian,” says Rina, a vegan with a fridge well stocked with leafy greens, yellow veggies, and fruits. “Of course, I would have welcomed him, regardless.” She named him Sobe.
The reptile thrived under her care, soon stretching to four and a half feet, nose to tail tip. Meanwhile, another needy critter found his way to Rina’s door. “The kitten was near death when I found him,” she says. “It’s as if he knew, or the mother cat who dropped him there knew, that this was a sanctuary for animals.” Even though the tiny feline had pneumonia, eye infections, and nasty infestations of fleas and worms, Rina felt she could save him and refused her vet’s offer to euthanize him.
Indeed, Johann the cat soon improved markedly, and Rina decided to see how the two castoffs would get along. “When I put Jo into the iguana’s enclosure, Sobe puffed up like Godzilla and hissed. He can look very big and threatening. But
Jo didn’t know to be afraid, so he just rubbed up against Sobe’s rough skin and purred. Sobe probably wondered, What the heck? Why isn’t he scared?” But the iguana calmed down quickly. He closed his eyes and let the kitten rub against his face and play with his tail. He did nothing to discourage the contact, and even seemed to relish it.
Nowadays, Sobe is a free-range iguana in Rina’s home. He’ll get up on the bed with Jo and Rina’s other cats and let them curl up around him, and he doesn’t mind when they attempt to groom him or join him on his warm perch in his reptile enclosure. In fact, if the perch is empty, he’ll wander around looking for the felines.
Although iguanas can be aggressive, especially once they are sexually mature, “Jo and the other cats have learned to read those cues and get out of the way when Sobe gets ‘too affectionate,’” Rina says. Even the best of friends have their limits, after all.
{INDIA, 2003}
The Leopard and the Cow
LEOPARD
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Carnivora
FAMILY: Felidae
GENUS: Panthera
SPECIES: Panthera pardus
BRAHMIN CATTLE
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Artiodactyla
FAMILY: Bovidae
GENUS: Bos
SPECIES: Bos primigenius
From the banks of India’s Dhadhar River, and a village called Antoli, comes the story of the domestic cow and the wild leopard that sought its affection.
The leopard crept through the sugar cane on an October night, seeming to search for something. She found a cow tied in a field, the way villagers keep their livestock in this dusty farming community. The cat didn’t harm the cow, but villagers worried about its predatory instincts, since they, too, were sometimes in the fields at night. They asked the Forest Department to remove the leopard to a wildlife sanctuary nearby.
And so the trappers came, and soon found themselves observers of an unexpected interaction. Wildlife conservationist Rohit Vyas of Gujarat State was involved in several attempts to capture the leopard. The cat returned to the area nightly, often many times a night, but not as a predator sniffing out a warm meal. Instead, she came to be embraced. She approached the cow tentatively, rubbed her head against the cow’s head, then settled against her body. The cow would lick the cat, starting with her head and neck, cleaning whatever she could reach as the cat wriggled in apparent delight. If the cow was asleep when the leopard arrived, the visitor would gently awaken her with a nuzzle to the leg before lying down and pressing close. Other cattle stood nearby, but the leopard ignored them. The chosen cow seemed pleased to give the leopard her nightly bath. For almost two months the cat showed up around eight in the evening and cuddled with the cow until the first hint of sunrise—as if hiding their strange tryst from the glare of day.
When word of the animals’ bond got out, villagers became less afraid of the leopard and no longer worried about its capture. They were also surprised to see improved crop yields. Apparently the big cat was preying on pigs, monkeys, and jackals that usually devoured as much as a third of the farmers’ harvest.
The cat stayed away for several weeks. Then on the last night the animals were seen together, the leopard visited nine times before wandering away from her friend for good. Rohit Vyas suggests that the leopard had been young and motherless when it first strayed into the village, using agricultural fields as a pathway from a distant forest. Perhaps a curious lick between cat and cow stirred the domestic animal’s maternal instinct. The leopard sought the cow’s warmth for a time, but once she reached adulthood, her need for motherly affection diminished. She moved on.
Even with such a plausible explanation, “This relationship was unimaginable,” says Rohit. “We were all spellbound by it. Who would expect a carnivore and hunter like a leopard to show love and affection toward its prey?”
{SOUTH AFRICA, 2010}
The Lion Cub and the Caracal Siblings
CARACAL
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Carnivora
FAMILY: Felidae
GENUS: Caracal
SPECIES: C. caracal
LION
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Carnivora
FAMILY: Felidae
GENUS: Panthera
SPECIES: Panthera leo
Misfortune for a handful of wild cats led to a happy mingling of species at a South African reserve.
It happened at the Pumba Private Game Reserve in Port Elizabeth, a place where lions stalk and cheetahs race, where zebras and giraffes form stoic silhouettes on the dusty plains, and where rhinos and elephants turn watering holes into muddy plunge pools.
First, a lion cub named Sheba was brought to Pumba for rehabilitation. Sheba’s mother, while still heavily pregnant, had been mistakenly caught by a game relocation team. Two of her cubs died shortly after birth, and she abandoned the third—most likely as a result of the stress of the capture.
Staff at the Pumba Reserve took in the abandoned lion cub and did their best to fill the maternal void. They planned to raise her for eighteen months, then introduce her to a pride of lions on the nearly 7,000-hectare stretch of woodland and open plains.
Not too long after that, a pair of young caracal were brought to the reserve. Caracal are a smallish, quick-footed, lynxlike species that roams the open country of Africa and the Middle East. The caracal siblings had lost their mother to hunting dogs on a nearby farm after she had attacked the resident farmer’s sheep. Normally, caracal kittens stick with their mothers for as much as a year, so without a stand-in parent the babies’ future was grim. As they had with the lion cub, the staff at the Pumba Reserve did their best to mother the caracals. They named the brother–sister duo Jack and Jill. And they had a playmate for the kittens in mind—Sheba, the little, lonely lion cub.
Sheba, Jack, and Jill formed an instant bond. “They all live together in our farm house with our dog Frankie,” says reserve director Dale Howarth, whose home sits on the boundary of the wildland. “They play together like any domestic cats, but obviously they are a lot bigger and more boisterous—and do a lot of damage to our carpets and furniture. Climbing up curtains is no challenge at all.”
The three cats sleep together in a furry heap in the bedroom Dale shares with his wife, allowing for the regular feedings the youngsters require. At about twelve months, he says, the caracals will be given free range of the reserve, while the lioness will begin to separate from the “family” at about eighteen months, when she’s ready to find a mate. “At that point, all the cats will be free to come and go as they feel comfortable; there’s no pressure on the animals to stay or leave,” Dale says.
Until then, each day is a sweet medley of eating, sleeping on the veranda, tumbling, grappling, clawing, and startling their caretakers as they race with mad abandon through house and garden. Kittens will be kittens, after all. Until they grow into caracals and lions.
{GEORGIA, U.S.A., 2001}
The Lion, the Tiger, and the Bear
AMERICAN BLACK BEAR
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Carnivora
FAMILY: Ursidae
GENUS: Ursus
SPECIES: Ursus americanus
TIGER
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Carnivora
FAMILY: Felidae
GENUS: Panthera
SPECIES: Panthera tigris
Oh, my! It’s the big three that spooked Dorothy and her Oz companions, together again. But at Noah’s Ark Animal Rehabilitation Center in Locust Grove, Georgia, lion, tiger, and bear aren’t frightening;
they’re brothers.
They arrived together at the rehab center back in 2001, three cubs that had been confiscated by the Department of Natural Resources during a drug bust. They were Leo (the lion), Shere Khan (the tiger), and Baloo (the bear), and clearly the animals, not more than three months old apiece at the time, had become inseparable during their ordeal.
So together they remained. Their habitat at the center was made roomy enough for three, and they got a sturdy new “clubhouse,” a wooden structure built as a place to bunk and, sometimes, to hide from the streams of awestruck visitors peering at the center’s oddest mates. In the wild, these animals would have to cross oceans to meet face to face: lions come from Africa, tigers from Asia, and American black bears are, obviously, American. Yet their different beginnings haven’t kept them from being contented roommates.
Jama Hedgecoth, one of the founders of Noah’s Ark, says the animals play daily, sometimes roughly, yet tempers never flare. Everyone just gets along. Rubbing against each other, butting heads, and sleeping and eating together, “they truly live in harmony,” she says. In the morning they awaken full of pep, ready to wrestle each other and attack their toys (tires, logs, and other relatively indestructible objects). As afternoon creeps in, the three become a pile of lazy bones, sprawled out in the yard or on the “porch” of their house as visitors wander by.