Urgent: Sign SPCA Petition for Tougher Animal Protection Laws

The current edition of the SPCA's newsletter included this appalling story, to persuade people that Malaysia needs much stronger laws to protect animals:

On the 18th of August, the SPCA, with the assistance of the Enforcement
Division of the Veterinary Services Department, rescued a very ill dog which was in terrible condition.

As the dog was too weak to be saved, it was finally euthanized at the
Veterinary Services Department's clinic. Post mortem revealed that the dog
could have been suffering for at least 6 months already!

The irresponsible owner had intentionally neglected the dog's welfare and
caused unnecessary suffering to the dog. The Kuala Lumpur Enforcement
Division is carrying out investigations to trace the dog's owner.

The SPCA hopes that the irresponsible and cruel owner will be prosecuted
and not only fined a measly RM 200 but also be imprisoned for six months under the Animal Ordinance Act, 1953, Part IV: Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

The SPCA initiated a petition last year asking the government to amend Animal Ordinance 1953 to:

1. Increase the cruelty fine from RM200 (since 1953) to a significantly higher amount of around RM 10,000.00 and increase jail time;

2. Impose a life time ban on animal ownership for those charged with cruelty to animals --- animals therefore cannot be returned to the owners; and

3. Urge the public to be responsible pet owners - spay/neuter their pets, provide adequate food, space, exercise, love and medical attention to their pets, and to be considerate neighbours.

Sadly, only 20,000 signatures towards the goal of 100,000 (both national and international) were collected. The SPCA is circulating the petition again and urgently needs signatures. Please help them send a message to the government: Serious offences against animals require serious punishments. The abuse won't stop as long as the penalties, both as written and as applied, are a joke.

World Animal Day...But Not in Malaysia?

World Animal Day, which was started by a group of ecologists in Florence, Italy, in 1931, takes place on Oct. 4 every year. According the UK site, the goals of World Animal Day are:

• To celebrate animal life in all its forms
• To celebrate humankind’s relationship with the animal kingdom
• To acknowledge the diverse roles that animals play in our lives – from providing food, through being our companions, to supporting and helping us, to bringing a sense of wonder into our lives
• To acknowledge and be thankful for the way in which animals enrich our lives

Sounds good to me! I asked some likely people in the animal world here (SPCA, National Zoo) if they were going to hold any events in conjunction with World Animal Day, and was told that they were not. The reason? It isn't well-known here. Is this really a case of the chicken or the egg? I don't think so; I think you have to publicize something like this first, and then people will know about it. I am pushing to get an animal-welfare related article of my own into The Star on Tuesday; I don't know if it will make it or not.

My cat Dickens came from the Singapore SPCA

Meanwhile, the SPCA in Singapore is going to hold a three-day event to promote pet adoption, kindness to animals and the SPCA's activities. Good for them! Let's hope that next year, we'll have our own animal-awareness-raising events here in Malaysia. Education is the only long-term method for changing the way we treat the animals around us, but it takes time. The sooner we start, the sooner we will see results.

Bitten by the World's Largest Rodent

I took this picture of a group of capybaras at the National Zoo, Kuala Lumpur, September 2005.

This is another personal story, this time of an encounter with an animal. It happened when I was very young, perhaps three or four years old. My father, a paleontologist, had taken his first job after university, teaching at the University of Florida, which is in the small town of Gainesville, located in the northwestern part of the state.

We lived in a small red prefab house in the country. This was the early 1960s and my parents bought our prefab home from General Electic, which presumably wanted not only to cash in on the prefab home business, but also use it as a way to increase their sales of electrical appliances. It may have been a short-lived venture, but I remember our little house with love.

I have many happy "snapshots" in my memory from our Florida years: an outdoors that was the world's biggest sandbox; green snakes and tortoises to play with; burning blue skies; spiky, spiny plants; my sisters and I riding on Sandy, our palomino mare, as my mother led her; a pet white rabbit whose hide my mother tried to tan after it died (it came out stiff as a board); a beagle and her endless litters of puppies -- memory suggests that she gave birth to at least two sets of eleven; savage thunderstorms that knocked out the power and left us huddled next to my mother by the light of a kerosene lamp, 10% frightened, 90% thrilled. I also remember my father chopping the head off a rattlesnake near the house, then putting it into a glass jar so we could observe it up close.

I do not, however, remember the time I was bitten by a capybara (Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris). Capybaras are the world's largest rodents -- they look rather like guinea pigs on steroids -- and live in South America. They are semi-aquatic and well-adapted to the water, with their nose, eyes and ears aligned like a hippo's at the top of their skull and thus above the waterline. Capys are also excellent underwater swimmers, able to hold their breath for up to five minutes.

So how did I come to be bitten by a capybara, you may ask, without going for a swim in a body of water to the east of the Andes? I attribute it to youthful exuberance -- my parents', mine and the capybara's. We were all quite young and inexperienced, and perhaps a trifle ignorant.

It was a fad at the time, my father tells me, for the zoology students at the university to keep all sorts of exotic animals as pets. One day, one of my father's students made a buying excursion to a large animal importer in Tampa Bay and came home with a baby capybara. Somewhere between the shop and his room at the university, he realized that he had no place to keep it, so he drove to our house in the country and deposited the animal with us.

My parents gave the capybara a home in our chickenyard, which was already living quarters not only for chickens but also chicken snakes, a white rabbit and gopher tortoises who made burrows in the sand. He (or she; my parents don't recall its gender) was a young capy, perhaps only a month or two old, and barely a foot long (adult capys can be up to four feet in length). Sadly, he only stayed with us for a month or two before escaping through one of the holes that tunnelled under the chickenyard fence. I wish my parents had known how to take better care of the capy -- or at least known they didn't know how to take care of him, and sent him to a zoo.

A baby capy snuggling up to an adult in the National Zoo, Kuala Lumpur, September 2005. You can see how damp they were!

It was a mistake of immaturity, not indifference. My mother was very fond of the capy. She says he was a beautiful animal, with big eyes and a sweet face. One day, she decided to put him into the bathtub and let him have a swim. Or perhaps she wanted to bathe him, I'm not sure. At any rate, I was having a bath at the time. I don't know which of us went into the tub first, but the capy obviously decided that I was in his territory and he didn't like it. He nipped me on the knee. I suppose I howled, although, as I say, I have no memory of the incident.

The bite left no scar, either physical or emotional. If anything, hearing that story over the years stoked my interest in animals rather than extinguishing it. I have always felt it to be a mark of distinction; how many other people can say that they were bitten by a capybara in their bathtub?

Categories: My Animal Stories

Chimp Hand, Just Because I Love It

A great picture of a chimpanzee handprint, from Save the Chimps.

Me Tongue-tied, You Jane

When I started this blog, I intended to write stories about my personal encounters with animals and other experiences of importance to me. So here is a story about the day I shared an elevator with Jane Goodall, the great scientist, activist and educator and my personal hero.

As a child, I wanted to be Jane Goodall. I couldn't imagine any life more exciting or interesting than hers. I did not grow up to be a primatologist, but I did, eventually, work briefly at The National Geographic Society, which has sponsored much of her work.

It was 1987 or '88. I was part of a team of researchers working on a special project, The Historical Atlas of the United States. One day, I had to ascend, for reasons I have forgotten, to an upper floor of the NGS headquarters building. We're talking deep silence, thick carpets, indirect lighting -- a posh and elegant eyrie for extremely elite eagles. This was the one and only time I ever dared to venture my humble-researcher toes up there.

I got into one of the miniscule elevators, which had a capacity of about four people. Two people were already inside, one of them a giant of a man with an immense video camera and a beard. The other person was a woman. Because of the crowded space, I ended up standing quite close to her.

I glanced at her sideways. She had delicate yet strong features, fine bones and the purest complexion imaginable. My first thought was, "That is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

My second thought was, "Omigod, that's Jane Goodall!"

It had taken me a couple of seconds to register that I was standing a couple of inches from the most famous primatologist in the world. I have no poker face; Jane and her companion could see every thought as it crossed my mind. I blurted out a strangled hello and blushed to the crown of my head. A tiny smile of amusement curved Jane's lips as her eyes met mine and she nodded to me.

The elevator stopped and I blundered out. They rode on, rising higher into the realm of the NGS gods, while I did a jig of uncontainable excitement in the empty elevator lobby. I wanted to shout: I just saw Jane Goodall! I just stood next to Jane Goodall! I just said hello to Jane Goodall!

I have seen her in person once more since then. In the mid-1990s, I attended one of her public lectures at a university. The lights of the vast auditorium were dimmed as a slender figure stepped up to the podium. In the glow of a small spotlight, she began to vocalize. The greeting of a wild chimpanzee filled our ears, rising from a series of increasingly excited pants to a frenzied scream of delight that echoed from the vaulted reaches of the ceiling. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I think, although I'm not sure, that I hooted in reply.

Jane Goodall went to Tanzania in 1960, chosen by famed anthropologist Dr. Louis Leakey to conduct field studies of wild chimpanzees. In that same year, she made her first ground-breaking discovery: Chimpanzees make and use tools. With that, one of the most sacred barriers between man and animal was shattered. As Dr. Leakey said, "Now we must redefine tool, redefine man, or accept chimpanzees as humans."

The line separating human and nonhuman primates is thinner than we ever thought, and it's getting thinner all the time. The recent mapping of the chimpanzee genetic code has reduced the meaningful DNA difference between "us" and "them" to about one percent.

Jane Goodall now spends an average of 300 days a year on the road, travelling on behalf of chimpanzees, the environment and the future of the planet. She is tireless, apparently, and sublimely calm. One of the things I most admire about her is how centered she is. Despite the horrors she has seen inflicted on chimpanzees and nature, she remains always hopeful, always reasonable, always focused on solutions. She does not waste her time on vitriol and despair. She believes in education and the fundamental goodness of her fellow humans. She explains her optimism in an essay called My Four Reasons for Hope.

Jane Goodall is one of my reasons for hope.

Bittersweet: The World's Oldest Chimpanzee

Cheeta with Maureen O'Sullivan and Johnny Weissmuller
in TARZAN THE APE MAN (1932)

Cheeta with friend and caretaker Dan Westfall, ca. 2003

I recently ran across the information that Cheeta, one of the chimpanzees who acted in the classic Hollywood Tarzan movies of the 1930s and '40s, is still alive. It's a bittersweet story, told in full by National Geographic News.

Cheeta turned 73 on April 9th of this year, making him the oldest documented chimpanzee in the world. Experts say wild chimpanzees live an average of 45 years. Chimps in captivity tend to live longer, but Cheeta's great age is exceptional. He is the last surviving member of the group of chimpanzees who played the character of Tarzan's sidekick, "Cheeta", in the MGM movies. Over the course of the 10 years the movies were made, it was necessary to change the chimpanzee actor several times, as generally only very young chimps -- two to three years old -- are tractable enough to use in entertainment. That explains why "Cheeta" was always a youngster and why she was sometimes female and sometimes male.

Cheeta lives at the CHEETA Primate Sanctuary in Palm Springs, California, with Dan Westfall, who founded the non-profit sanctuary when he adopted Cheeta. Westfall is the nephew of Tom Gentry, the animal trainer who originally brought Cheeta to America from Africa. (I don't know if Gentry bought Cheeta or trapped him himself. Either way, you can be fairly sure Cheeta's mother was killed in the acquisition.)

Cheeta is not living a normal chimpanzee life; he never has. However, it's obvious that Westfall loves him and is dedicated to giving him and his companions -- more primates "retired" from the entertainment industry -- the best possible life he can. The sanctuary accepts donations, and, for a certain amount, offers "Ape-Stract" paintings by Cheeta.

As a child, I loved seeing Cheeta in the movies, without understanding what his captivity meant. As an adult, I know how cruel it is to force chimpanzees (and other primates) to "act" for our entertainment. No-one can give Cheeta back the life he should have had, but it is comforting to know he is well-loved and well-taken care of in his old age.

"We Will Not Tolerate Such Acts of Cruelty"

The day before yesterday, I was at Ikano Power Centre, so I decided to go to Pet Safari and see what was happening with the Wonderful World of Pets (what a misnomer!) You probably remember the case last month of the puppy they left to die without medical care.

At the time, Ng Whye Hoe, the director of Pet Safari, which is the pet shop's landlord, told The Star:

“As a responsible pet company with over six years experience in Malaysia and Singapore, we will not tolerate such acts of cruelty. We acknowledge that it happened at our premises and we will not avoid the issue. We pledge to improve our services and care to the animals."

I hoped to find WWoP boarded up and out of business, but there they still were, big, bold and with twenty or more pups on sale. (Who would shop for a pet there, after knowing about that case?) I stuck my head into the Pet Safari management office, and discovered that Ng, who is based in Singapore, was actually on the spot! What a piece of luck!

I asked him what Pet Safari had done in this matter. After all, it's easy to say "we won't tolerate it," but it's action that counts. By coincidence, he was in the middle of preparing for a meeting with Lewis Tan, the director of WWoP, at that very moment.

You remember Mr. Tan, don't you? He's the one who gave Buddhism a black eye when he explained his staff's failure to act by saying, "As Buddhists, we do not believe in putting animals to sleep." (Or, presumably, in getting them medical care.) He also made history when he announced the existence of the world's first "genetic virus," which is what he said killed the pup.

Ng told me that Pet Safari stands by its commitment to put an end to WWoP's bad practices, but that it would take time to research the legal aspects of the issue: the tenants' handbook, the lease, etc. He said that even if Pet Safari doesn't evict WWoP, they would make sure the company followed proper standards from now on.

Let's hope so. Meanwhile, I would avoid that shop like poison if I wanted to buy a pet.

Cool for Cats: An Amazing Photograph!

This gorgeous picture of a male lion giving some cubs a good soaking comes from National Geographic Magazine. It was taken in Kenya's Masai Mara reserve. To see a larger version, click on the photo or visit the website.

The September issue of NGM is devoted to Africa. In addition to extraordinary animal photographs, there are excellent articles including Oil Boon, Living with Aids and Who Rules the Forest?. I think my favorite piece is Return to Zambia, in which African writer Alexandra Fuller contemplates "the relationship between people and wildlife," with stunning B+W photographs by Lynn Johnson.

On-line, they have the fabulous WildCam Africa. You can see live footage from a watering hole in Botswana. The other day, I spent hours glued to my computer screen, enthralled by the sight of a herd of elephants. My connection is very low-speed, so it was more like a series of snapshots than a video, but I could hear them and I knew I was seeing live pictures, so it was thrilling.

Malaysia, Home of Corrupt Officials

Primate experts from around the world gathered in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo, recently to consider how to save the great apes (gorillas, chimpanzees, bonobos and orangutans) from extinction. According to the AFP article about it, the main problems in stopping the trade in illegal wildlife are "corrupt bureaucrats, false documentation, [and] mafia-style clashes with armed groups engaged in smuggling."

And who does the expert quoted single out as one example of such corruption?

"Once we found four young gorillas from Nigeria in a zoo in Malaysia, with certificates bought from corrupt officials." [John Sellar, who heads the fight against trafficking with the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES)]

How nice for Malaysia to be recognised internationally for something; too bad it isn't something to be proud of.

The Fight Against Female Genital Mutilation

Waris Dirie: Nomad, Supermodel, Activist

“Allah saved me from a lion in the desert after I ran away from home and since this experience I have known that He has got something in mind for me, that there is a reason why I was allowed to live on.”

My article about Waris Dirie, her new book, Desert Children, and her fight against female genital mutilation appeared in today's Star Mag. Below is the slightly longer original version, which includes more of Waris's remarks and a comment about FGM in Malaysia.

Desert Warrior

Waris Dirie was born into a family of desert nomads in Somalia. Growing up, she endured hunger, physical and sexual abuse and female genital mutilation (FGM). At the age of 13, she fled into the desert rather than be forced into marriage with an older man chosen by her father. Her story might have ended there. She might’ve been killed by a lion or died of dehydration. The world might never have heard of Waris Dirie.

Instead, the desert was only the beginning. She survived and became an internationally famous model, UN Special Ambassador against FGM and best-selling author. She told the story of her childhood and her escape in her first book, Desert Flower (1999). Her second book, Desert Dawn (2002), chronicled her return to war-and-famine-ravaged Somalia to find her family, twenty years later.

Her new book, Desert Children, written with journalist Corinna Milborn, focuses on the hidden problem of FGM in Europe. What their investigation revealed is staggering: an estimated 500,000 women and girls in the European Union have either already undergone FGM or are at risk of it. According to The Waris Dirie Foundation, 75,000 of them live in Great Britain, 65,000 in France and 30,000 in Germany.

“We have had an avalanche of reaction to the book,” Waris says. “The general public and media simply did not know that FGM was an issue here and were shocked that half a million women in Europe are affected by this harmful practice.”

The medical and healthcare community in the EU suffers from widespread ignorance and insensitivity about FGM. Waris and her team found doctors who were willing to sew a woman’s vagina shut again after childbirth at the request of the husband. Even those with good intentions had little clue about the long-term physical, emotional and psychological effects of FGM. This book may be changing that.

Waris says, “Many professionals – doctors, nurses, social workers – are now eager to know more, and I think we have really changed the perspective of quite a few of them.”

The victims are immigrants and the children of immigrants. The parents either send their daughters back to Africa for the procedure, thereby hoping to avoid scrutiny, or have it performed in Europe, by traditional practitioners or by Western doctors willing to do it on the sly. Currently, only six countries in the EU have laws specifically prohibiting FGM: Austria, Belgium, France, Norway, Sweden and the UK. Of these, only France has been at all active in prosecuting offenders. No EU country recognizes the threat of FGM as grounds for asylum.

“On the political side,” Waris says, “the reaction [to the book] has not been nearly as strong. I think European countries still have to go through the process of admitting to themselves that FGM is their problem, too, before they will start really doing something about it.”

It was the response of the victims themselves that most deeply affected Waris. “Many of them were encouraged to talk about their problems for the first time,” she says. “It was the first time they could admit yes, it was done to them, and, yes, it was awful, painful and wrong. This is a very important step, as much for the women as for their daughters. A woman who truly knows what FGM means will not do it to her daughters.”

Waris is pushing for both tougher laws and more education on the issue. “Without tough laws, education will lead to nothing,” she points out. “How can you tell people something is a horrible crime if it is not even punishable by law? On the other hand, laws without education are equally fruitless. We have met so many people who did not even know about the laws against FGM – how are they supposed to follow them?”

Desert Children does not cover the occurrence of FGM outside Africa and the EU, but Waris is quick to point out that all countries must face the issue. “FGM is a big, big problem among African immigrants to North America,” she says. “It is quite as widespread there as it is in Europe or elsewhere. The USA and Canada must definitely play a role in ending FGM.”

Because FGM is widely practiced in heavily Muslim parts of the world, it is often mistaken for a Muslim practice, although in Africa, animists and Christians also follow the tradition. “Islam,” Waris says, “does not really have anything to do with FGM, or, at least, it should not. The Koran does not even mention it. But there are Muslim preachers who advice parents to mutilate their daughters. I really hope that all religious leaders around the world will stand up and say NO to this. There is nothing as strong as the word of a religious leader in these very religious communities.”

On the personal side, Waris says she has not been back to Somalia since the trip she wrote about in Desert Dawn. “It hurts, but Somalia is in a very difficult situation. There is no government, no law, no security at all. I really hope that I can go back next year and finally see my family again!”

Living as she does at the forefront of this battle, it would be easy for her to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the campaign she is waging. She admits that, sometimes, she wishes she could lead a quiet, private life with her son and not have to keep up the struggle.

“Luckily,” she says, “I am able to take breaks, listen to music, dance, be with friends and not think about my campaign for days at a time – and this recharges my batteries. On the other hand, every time I see a little girl I might have saved, it gives me a huge push forward.” She knows what her priorities are.

“There is nothing as motivating as saving lives, is there?”

To learn more about FGM, visit The Waris Dirie Foundation website at http://www.waris-dirie-foundation.com/ or e-mail Waris at waris@utanet.at.

What is FGM?

The World Health Organisation (WHO) defines female genital mutilation as any procedure under which the female genitalia are wholly or partly removed or damaged, whether for cultural reasons or any reasons other than medical.

FGM includes a range of practices, depending on cultural and geographic background. Eighty percent of FGM victims suffer cutting or excision of the clitoral hood, the clitoris and/or the labia minora, in whole or in part. Other procedures may include incision, perforation, nicking, stretching, scarring of the genitalia with burns, scraping away the flesh from the vaginal opening, or introducing corrosive substances or herbs to the vagina to tighten it.

In Somalia, where Waris Dirie is from, infibulation, the most severe and potentially fatal form of FGM, is practiced. This involves cutting away part or most of the genitalia, including the inner labia. The outer labia are sewn together, leaving only a minute hole for urine and menstrual blood to pass out. The procedure is commonly done without anaesthesia or antiseptics, using a razor blade, knife or piece of glass.

If the girl survives the procedure and any subsequent infections, scar tissue will cover her genital area, leaving it smooth and unfeeling. The nerve damage involved means that she will never experience normal sexual pleasure. Instead, she will endure a lifetime of excruciating pain while urinating, during her periods, during sexual intercourse and when she gives birth. On her wedding night, her husband will either force his way through the barrier with his penis or cut her open again with a knife. Fifteen percent of all FGM victims suffer infibulation.

FGM in Malaysia

According to Waris Dirie, three percent of girls in Malaysia are victims of FGM, making it one of the hot spots for this issue in Asia. “I do not know whether this is due to immigration or other factors, but I do know that Malaysia has a lot of work to do to stop it! I would very much appreciate action by the government. It is definitely necessary.”

The ‘Designer Vagina’

Ironically, while women from Africa and elsewhere are fighting to protect themselves from genital mutilation, Waris found some Western women paying cosmetic surgeons to alter their genitals in a bizarre quest for the “designer” vagina, often disturbingly similar to what is achieved by the most extreme form of FGM: a smooth, tight, almost childlike genital area. Surgical techniques originally developed to help those with medical problems are being used to alter the genitals of healthy, but body-image obsessed, women despite the risk of long-term pain, loss of sexual feeling and other complications.

Update on Scout, the Rescued Polo Pony

I stopped by the Royal Selangor Polo Club yesterday to check on Scout, the abandoned polo pony I rehabilitated. (For her story, see my previous post, Scout the Abandoned Polo Pony) The retired Army officer who takes care of her now still uses her for light pleasure riding.


I was happy to see that she looked good and seemed to be well-taken care of. Her coat was clean and glossy. She still had much of the weight and muscle we had worked so hard to rebuild. She had a bucket of fresh water and a big bucket for food. Her bedding was clean and fresh (I have seen horses at the Club standing in six inches of urine-soaked shavings and manure.) She was wearing the old fly-mask I had bought her, which was a pleasant surprise. Fly-masks, like other small items, tend to disappear at a rapid rate at the Club, 'borrowed' or perhaps sold on by the grooms.

Her attitude was good, too. Four years ago, when I first met her, she would 'greet' visitors to her stall by putting her head in a corner and showing them her rump. Yesterday, although she was standoffish with me (as usual, since I stopped seeing her regularly) she gave me her profile the whole time, after taking a few sniffs of my hands. Her confidence was high and she seemed quite relaxed.

Nest time, I'm taking carrots and I'm going to reestablish our friendship. I miss my "Golden Girl"!

After the Flood: Pet Rescue, Zoo Survival, Hope and Faith

Let's Hope He Made It

What about the many lost, homeless and stranded pets left in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina? Volunteers from The American Humane Society and other organisations are rushing to rescue these animals. One of the AHS volunteers is posting updates on their efforts to the website.

"We Holed Up in the Reptile House"

Audubon Zoo General Curator Dan Maloney feeds the zoo's giraffes in New Orleans, Louisiana in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina (AFP)

New Orleans's Audubon Zoo survived the storm relatively unscathed, thanks to its location on high ground. Zoo workers stayed with their charges throughout the storm, finding shelter in the Reptile House. General Curator Maloney joked about how they are keeping the lions and other big cats fed during the crisis: "We invite journalists in, lock the gates and then they are never heard of again." Click here for the full story from AFP.

Yes, There are Still Good People in America

This is a great story, although the headline, French Quarter Holdouts Create 'Tribes', made me fear I was going to read about violent gangs fighting each other for control of neighborhoods. In fact, it's about people in New Orleans's historic French Quarter banding together in small groups to take care of each other and survive. You have to admire a makeshift bartender-cum-medic who can stitch up a man's torn ear and do a good job of it!

Faith and Hope After the Storm

Holly Lebowitz Rossi's blog is a compilation of stories about rescue and recovery efforts after Katrina with an emphasis on hope. It provides a welcome bit of cheer and encouragement in the midst of all the horror stories.

On Being Groomed by a Monkey

I opened the book Grooming, Gossip and the Evolution of Language and read the first paragraph:

To be groomed by a monkey is to experience primordial emotions: the initial frisson of uncertainty in an untested relationship, the gradual surrender to another's avid fingers flickering expertly across bare skin, the light pinching and picking and nibbling of flesh as hands of discovery move in surprise from one freckle to another newly discovered mole. The momentary disconcerting pain of pinched skin gives way imperceptibly to a soothing sense of pleasure, creeping warmly outwards from the centre of atention. You begin to relax into the sheer intensity of the business, ceding deliciously to the ebb and flow of the neural signals that spin their fleeting way from periphery to brain, pitter-pattering their light drumming on the mind's consciousness somewhere in the deep cores of being.

Well, exactly. I was once groomed by a long-tailed macaque (as recounted in my previous post, The Monkey Man) and I know precisely what author Robin Dunbar means.

Dunbar is Professor of Evolutionary Psychology at the University of Liverpool in the UK. His book, I understand, makes the argument that as human social groups grew too large to allow person-to-person bonding through grooming, language developed to enable us to maintain intimacy and social cohesion. A good gossip is not, he posits, a waste of time but an absolute essential in our primate lives. I am looking forward to reading the rest of the book, and hope that the writing will continue to be as lively and delightful as that first paragraph.

My own modest theory is that the physical side of our primordial desire to be groomed is satisfied these days through receiving massages, facials, manicures, reflexology, reiki -- any 'treatment' that involves another person making us the centre of their attention and touch. I am not going to venture further down this line of speculation into the areas of sex and prostitution, but you are welcome to go there yourself if you like. Discreetly.

The Hero Who Sacrificed Heaven for a Dog

Recently, a Hindu friend shared a wonderful story about compassion from the great Hindu epic the Mahabharata with me. This is my paraphrase of the tale, based on various sources.

King Pandu had five sons by his two wives. In fact, however, these sons were fathered by the gods, and each one was powerful and heroic. The most powerful and heroic of all was the eldest, Yudisthira, King of the Bharata people. After many adventures, including a great war, the time came for the Pandava brothers and their mutual wife, Princess Draupadi, to leave this world and ascend to Heaven.

(How Draupadi came to have five husbands was remarkably casual: After Prince Arjuna won her hand with his unbeatable archery skills, he rushed home and shouted to his mother: "Come see what I have brought home with me!" His mother, who was presumably busy with her chores, said before seeing Draupadi, "Whatever it is, be sure to share it with your brothers.")

At the end of their lives, the six pilgrims set out to make their way to Heaven, accompanied by a small dog who attached himself to Yudisthira. The route they had to follow was arduous and required serious mental and spiritual discipline. One by one, the four younger brothers and Draupadi succumbed to the hardships of the journey. Yudisthira accepted their loss with equanimity, knowing that they died because of their sins and weaknesses, among which were vanity, gluttony and pride.

Yudisthira himself was hardly perfect, by the way. Among other things, he famously told a lie that is still being debated on moral and ethical grounds. He was a compulsive gambler, too, and once lost himself, his brothers and Draupadi in a game of dice!

Shortcomings not withstanding, Yudisthira, with the dog, reached the end of his journey. Amidst thunder and lightning, Lord Indra arrived in his glorious chariot to take Yudisthira to Heaven. Yudisthira, however, started to bargain. First, he said he couldn't go to Heaven without his brothers and wife. Lord Indra assured him that his loved ones were already there, waiting for him. It would be his honor to be taken to Heaven in his human body, without having to die first.

Yudisthira next demanded that the dog that had followed him be allowed to come with him.

Lord Indra was not pleased. "There is no place in Heaven for dogs. Why do you you have attained the perfections of Heaven care about a worthless mongrel like that? Leave it behind and come with me."

"I cannot," Yudisthira replied. (And pretty cheeky he was, talking back to a god!) "He has been my faithful companion on my journey. It would be a sin to abandon a devoted creature who needs me."

"Yet you left your brothers and your wife along the road."

"I did not abandon them while they yet lived and needed me. Neither will I abandon this dog while he and I both live, even for the rewards of Heaven."

At that, the dog transformed itself into Lord Dharma, the God of Justice and the divine father of Yudisthira. "You are the most compassionate of men, my son, and I am well-pleased with you. You were willing to give up the very hope of heaven for the sake of a dog. Truly, no-one in Heaven is your equal."

The gods carried Yudisthira to Heaven in a burst of glory. Once there, he faced a horrifying final test of his compassion -- he was led to believe his brothers and wife were in Hell and he opted to join them there rather than desert them -- before being reunited with his family and entering Heaven for eternity.

Thank you, Saras, for introducing me to this beautiful tale.

Primate News Update: DNA, Extinction and Emergency Plan

Orphaned chimpanzees in an African sanctuary

Scientists Complete Genetic Map of the Chimpanzee The newly mapped genetic code of the chimpanzee (pan troglodytes) indicates that 99% of the chimpanzee's active genetic material is identical to ours.

This is a sword that cuts both ways. For some, it will reinforce the reasons we should not allow animal testing on chimpanzees; it could be argued that they be accorded the same status as humans who are incapable of giving informed consent to be used in lab tests (i.e., children, adults with mental disabilities, etc.)

On the other hand, unfortunately, there will be those who use this information to justify the use of chimpanzees in laboratory experiments and push to increase captive breeding for that purpose.

Meanwhile, speaking of good news/bad news, how's this for ironic? From Reuters, Sumatran Orangutans Face Extinction:

Rebuilding after December's devastating tsunami and the dawn of peace in Indonesia's Aceh province could mean annihilation for the region's orangutans....Ian Singleton, scientific director of the Sumatran Orangutan Conservation Programme, said of the return to normality after a separatist conflict, "As peace breaks out, so the orangutans could be wiped out."

Orangutan mother and baby

Who would have ever thought that there could be a downside to peace?

But it's not just the Sumatran orangutan whose future in the wild is looking bleak. The United Nation Environmental Program-World Conservation Monitoring Centre has just published The World Atlas of Great Apes and Their Conservation, and the writing is, as they say, on the wall.

Within one human generation -- that's 20 years -- most or all of the great apes (bonobos, chimpanzees and gorillas, as well as orangutans) are likely to be extinct in the wild. Their demise would be a direct result of human activity. We shove into their territory, we destroy their habitat, we expose them to new levels of disease and we hunt them for food, sport and God knows what else. I guess the headlines will read Great Apes Killed Off by Not-So-Great Humans.

There is an editorial in The Herald about this story.

There may yet be hope for some of the great apes, if an emergency plan released this week by conservationists succeeds (reported by Reuters):

Drawn up by more than 70 experts and government officials, the plan designates 12 sites in five countries: Cameroon, Gabon, Congo, Central African Republic, and Equatorial Guinea....

Young bonobo

The plan, with a price tag of $30 million over 5 years, has targeted these sites for emergency programs intended to increase security against illegal hunting and logging and slow the spread of the Ebola virus.

Proposed measures include combating poaching and improving monitoring, response to Ebola outbreaks, training and tourism development.

"The plan represents an urgent appeal to the international community for immediate action, before the damage is irreversible," Conservation International said in a statement.

Silverback gorilla and family

Thanks to Sharon Bakar for alerting me to some of these stories and to UNEP-WCMC for the use of the photographs.

No Freedom for Sidewalk Simian on Independence Day

Yesterday, on Malaysia's Independence Day, I took these pictures of a long-tailed macaque chained on a sidewalk in Bangsar Baru. His keepers, who run a food stall, said they had found him as a baby. He is kept on a harness and leash and has the shelter of a garden umbrella, which he needed during the downpour today.

He is overweight, so clearly he is fed more than enough. Of course, being tied up all day, he cannot take much exercise, either. He spends most of his life next to a busy street, breathing fumes and going nowhere, with no monkey companions.
I saw no active abuse, although the man told me he sometimes beats the monkey with a stick. "When he's naughty." He showed me bite scars on his legs which he said the monkey had inflicted.

I doubt there is anything actionable here under Malaysian law. In addition, if he were confiscated, he would probably be put down, since he is a male. I offered to buy him, but the couple refused -- just, I suppose, as I would refuse an offer on any of my dogs. It was clear that, in their minds, he was a pet and a well-kept one, to boot.

It is hard to know what to do for the best in a case like this. I do know that he is not living the life he deserves to live, as a wild animal. Monkeys, like great apes and humans (and many other animals), need the company of their own kind to thrive. Without it, they suffer, just as you or I would.

This monkey, although he appeared free of obvious injuries, indulged in bouts of repetitive movement typical of a captive wild animal, just like a tiger pacing in a cage. Such behavior expresses the animal's frustration, boredom and hopelessness. He is a prisoner, without family, friends or freedom. This may be legal, but it isn't humane or compassionate.