Earlier this week I visited a facility for chimpanzees given over to retirement by research laboratories that no longer want them. Chimp Haven lies on 200 rural acres near Shreveport, Louisiana.¹ Visitation is limited, and thick woods buffer this private sanctuary from the outside world. Most of the 90 chimps living there came from situations where they endured confinement (sometimes alone for years) in steel cages, routine injections, blood draws and other stressful manipulations. In the USA, some 1300 chimps remain in labs, where they are still used in viral research (e.g., hepatitis) and other investigations neither in their interests nor, frankly, ours.²

The first chimp to greet us was Grandma, one of seven chimps who occupy an indoor/outdoor compound with platforms climbing trees and sleeping hammocks. Grandma, 55, is the oldest resident here. When we leaned over the high concrete wall from the roof of the sanctuary headquarters, she immediately ambled over, then pointed a long arm toward sanctuary director Linda Brent and clapped repeatedly. Grandma clearly wanted to connect with Linda, who responded animatedly. Les, a 32 year old male who suffers from agoraphobia, sat below us against the wall, looking relaxed and content despite his neurosis.

Chimp Haven comprises about 8 enclosures, including two 4-5 acre compounds with thick woods, savanna, and bordered at one end by a natural-looking moat in which I saw cattails, bullfrogs and minnows. As a middle school group watched from one of the roofed viewing decks across the moat, two chimps used sticks to probe honey and oatmeal from holes in an artificial termite mound. Forty-three year old Teresa sauntered by. Her misty, pale bronze eyes give her a rather crazed and vacant look. But the visage is deceptive. On January 8^th, Teresa emerged from the woods cradling a new baby, since named Tracy, who at three months old is thriving under her mother’s loving care. All of the males here have been vasectomized, and it turned out that a muscular male named Conan had beaten the odds.

We saw about 60 chimps throughout the morning. Some showed the behavioral scars of an earlier life of strain and deprivation. But all of them are markedly improved from the time of their arrival. They now have grass under their feet, blue skies above and sun on their backs. They have choices, and decisions to make. They still lack unfettered freedom, but they have autonomy, and opportunities to be chimpanzees. The bananas that caretakers fling up into the pine trees may not have grown there naturally, but they help these chimps be chimps again. It’s one step closer to justice for our closest living relative.

1. Chimp Haven is funded in part by the US government’s Chimpanzee Health Improvement, Maintenance, and Protection (CHIMP) Act, enacted in 2000 to provide retirement facilities for chimps no longer used in experimentation.

2. For a current analysis concluding that the contributions of chimp research to human medicine are paltry at best, go here: http://www.releasechimps.org/pdfs/Chimp-CA-main-embed-figs.pdf