Swinging Before the Storm

I do not like to be outside much when it is hot, so Bow often ends up staying longer in the outer pen by himself, while I go back to the cooler, air conditioned inner pen. But late yesterday afternoon I went out with Bow, and the outer pen was unusually cool. A refreshing breeze, too mild to be termed wind, was blowing and everything seemed so inviting. Even though I had work to do on the computer, I lingered outside.

And as Bow was sitting on his bench, looking out at the dogs, it suddenly occurred to me that I wanted to try  the swing.

The swing is a bit high for me, as when I am sitting in it, my feet cannot touch the ground. It is not the best swing for a human, since the seat has been damaged and split in two, and so prior to yesterday I never really took the effort to try to climb into it. However, once on, it was kind of nice. And seeing me trying to swing, Bow came over to help. He did not mind sharing his swing with me.

Bow helped swing me from one side, then from behind,  and then he sat down on the stoop that leads from the inner pen and gently kept the swing going while seated comfortably.

I don't know if you can hear it distinctly, but all the while that Bow was helping me swing, a little bird was chirping about the impending storm. Because it was not suddenly cool out for no reason. There was a storm a-brewing, and this was one of the signs.

After dinner, and after Bow had gone to bed and the dishes had been washed, I went for a solitary walk to the mailbox. Teyman is no longer with us, but I have gotten into the habit of the walks I used to take with her.

A little bird was sitting on a wire and singing about the weather as the storm clouds appeared overhead.

Even as I went out onto the county road to check the mailbox, the bird redoubled its singing.

I could see it was raining in the distant horizon as I walked back to the house.

By the time I got to the front porch, the storm had arrived.

It wasn't a very violent storm, and it did not last long, but it left raindrops on Bow's bench, and it is nice and cool outside this morning. Due to all the moisture on the ground, Bow did not want to go out this morning. He asked to go out, but when I opened the door he refused to move. He did not want to get his feet wet. So we went back in, and Bow asked for his rug.

It is a pretty, peaceful morning out, though. We passed through the storm, and all is well.

A Visitor for Bow: Friendship and Sharing

Yesterday Bow had a special visitor. Linda, the daughter of our computer consultant, Tracey,  had a day off from school, and she came by with her dad just to see Bow. She was shy at first, but Bow did his best to show her his friendly side. He knew in advance that she was coming, and he was on his best behavior.

Bow can be quite intimidating when he chooses to be, flinging himself at the pen doors and displaying his strength to anyone who doubts it. But with Linda, who is eight going on nine, just like him, Bow was friendly, jumping up and down and trying to engage her in a two way interaction. He restrained himself admirably and did not start showing off his strength until she was more comfortable in his presence.

"Does he ever laugh?" Linda asked.

"Yes, he does, but he does it without using his voice." I demonstrated by doing a voiceless "ha, ha, ha", which is more like panting, and less like talking. As soon as I started, Bow joined in with his voiceless "ha, ha, ha", just to demonstrate. Then I tickled him, and he laughed louder, and this time for real. It's hard to tickle a chimpanzee, because they are all muscle. You have to apply a lot more force than with a human. But the laughter is the same, only without vibrating the vocal cords.

When Linda felt really secure with Bow, she let him have some cherry/lime soda that she had brought in a styrofoam cup. Though Tracey and Linda could not go in with us, they could share the soda with Bow through a straw that fit into the holes in the grid. Bow finished the drink, but there were still a cherry and a slice of lime deep within the styrofoam cup. To get those, I would have to bring the cup into the pen for Bow.

"How about you thank Linda for the soda," I suggested to Bow.

He spelled: "No," in Hebrew.

"I think you should," I insisted.

Bow switched to English. "T-H-A-N," he spelled, but there was a huge pause at this point.

"K-Y-O-U," Linda suggested.

Bow spelled: "K-S", opting for the shorter version.

He ate the cherry rather quickly, but the lime piece took a lot longer to consume. First he sucked all the juice out of it, slowly, puckering his lips at the sourness. Then he ate all the pulpy part. And after that, he kept chewing on the peel as if it were the greatest of delicacies.

"You make that look so good, Bow," Tracey said, "that after I get home I'm going to get me some, too, and try it."

No sooner had Tracey said this, then out came the lime peel from Bow's mouth, what was left of it, and Bow tried to stuff it into a hole in the grid so Tracey could have some. And they say chimpanzees don't like to share!

"No, no, that's okay," said Tracey, who didn't really want to share Bow's treasure. But Bow kept trying for a very long time to get that slice through the grid.