I had sand-fly bites covering my entire body! My arms, back, and legs were devastatingly itchy. I hardly slept I was scratching, or trying not to scratch all night! The monkeys also seemed to be dealing with this constant biting abuse.
I had helped Edgar (a local worker at the sanctuary, who is training to become a vet) during the morning make fresh pasta, as is done each and every day in a separate section across from the restaurant. Edgar tells me how there used to be no room for the pasta making, which was extremely hard, as the animals would always steal the dough!
It was so funny to watch all of the animals play together. The Spider monkeys tip and antagonize the dogs and coatis, the dog playfully attacks the coatis and Spider monkeys, and the Capuchin monkeys throw stones or anything else they can find at the dogs! The birds and monkeys also attack one another, as do the cats and the dogs. I saw one poor cat getting humped by the two squirrel monkeys!
Sometimes all was silent, but then suddenly the animals would go crazy and loud all at the same time! They would all start squawking, barking, squealing, and making random noises together, whilst jumping and running about!
One monkey, Luna, who was about five years old, had strange psychological behavior. She darted her eyes all over the place and jumped side to side in an uncontrollable fashion. Poor Luna must’ve been treated so badly before being rescued. One of the other monkeys (Martin) was so friendly towards people, and jumped up to hug me whenever I passed. He unfortunately had his teeth pulled by his previous owners, so that he wouldn´t bite them.
Another smaller, fluffier, male monkey named Kimbo was really cute, and would climb onto my back and head. Sometimes my gigantic finger was required to lift his tiny little hand in attempts to remove his digging nails from the skin on the back of my neck. Seresa, a motherly monkey, either tried to undo my fly, or steal keys or lip balm out of my pockets. Once she searched every single one of the six pockets in my pants! Her sneakiness was like that of a human child.
Their hands would sit in the middle of my palm, looking just like mine; only smaller and furrier... our friendships grew.My Story: Holding Hands