Instead of bringing Frank to the Zoo’s nursery facility, we decided to set up a satellite nursery inside the gorilla building close to Azizi so that the two would maintain as much contact as possible. Rather than hand rearing this infant as we have done with previous gorilla infants needing assistance, we decided to try a “rear assisting” program, letting Azizi raise Frank while we simply helped her. Nursery and mammal keepers would work together to provide support for Azizi until she could take over full time.

For the first five days, Frank needed to be housed inside an incubator to maintain his body temperature. After that, we set up a crib and a play area in the hallway where Frank could see and hear his family and they would be constantly aware of him, too. As humans, we do not fully understand all the information that is transmitted from mother or family member to the infant gorilla in the first days and weeks of life. There are no doubt many important lessons that an infant gorilla would miss if reared by humans. As much as we could, we were determined to let the gorillas raise Frank so that he could fully benefit from their care.

Frank was a strong baby, and he ate and gained weight well. Because we were so confident with Azizi’s early maternal care, we were able to give Frank back to her earlier than we have with previous gorilla infants cared for in our nursery. On day 16, we gave Azizi a chance to hold Frank. She was a bit clumsy at first, but little Frank was held and surrounded by his gorilla family.

Each week we increased the time that Frank stayed with his family. Highly intelligent, he soon learned to come into a small room for his bottle feedings. Now it wasn’t only Azizi who was enjoying the new addition to the gorilla group, as the other two adult females were gradually allowed to hold and play with Frank. Both 13-year-old Imani and 14-year-old Ndjia were excited to get a chance to interact with him. Frank’s dance card was full as all three females vied for his attention. Even Frank’s father, Paul Donn, allowed Frank to approach. A gentle (though huge) finger was always extended as a greeting. By 5½ months of age, little Frank was spending all night with the gorillas and was reliably coming to animal care staff for bottle feedings.

Keepers gradually introduced Frank to the huge, lush exhibit at the Zoo’s Gorilla Tropics so that he would be comfortable in the area. On the morning of March 6, 2009, Frank made his exhibit debut with his family. It was his aunt, Imani, who carried Frank outside into the exhibit for the first time. Frank was relaxed as he explored the exhibit or was carried about by his trio of eager gorilla “mothers.”

One might never guess that this confident little six-month-old gorilla was rear-assisted by a dedicated staff of animal services personnel who had his best interests at heart. We could never have accomplished such a successful project without an awesome and gentle family of gorillas to give him back to.

Janet Hawes is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo.

Watch video of Frank’s first day on exhibit with his family
See more photos of Frank in What’s New?

Although the San Diego Zoo has a significant amount of experience and a tremendous amount of success hand-rearing great apes, we recognized that we could only teach an infant gorilla so much about how to become a successful adult. We weighed the pros and cons of our level of interaction and determined the threshold for how much impact our influence would have compared to that of his family. We knew we could teach Frank some of the tools he would need to keep him healthy, but we knew we would never be able to teach him how to “speak” gorilla. The fact that the females in his family (mom Azizi and aunts Imani and Ndjia) were all inexperienced moms, we hoped that raising Frank as a team would allow them to get practice in the skills that make a mother successful. (Read post, It Takes a Village to Raise a Gorilla.)

As a bunch of self-described “primate nerds,” we looked for some of the more subtle signals that would indicate a mutual learning process. The most obvious was transportation and locomotion. Generally speaking, we look for milestones in physical aptitude, and we start with the most basic: knuckle walking, climbing, and riding on the adult females’ backs. Although the physical adaptations for knuckle walking already exist, it does take some practice to get it right, and most infants begin their first forays into walking with an open hand (or palmer) approach. It takes a few months of practice, but one can see the subtle movements that lead to a more curled under, traditional knuckle walk.

We waited and watched, and Frank grasped this skill right on time. The trick then becomes determining when to open your hands for climbing and gaining enough balance to knuckle your way up onto an uneven surface (logs, rocks, etc.). When you look at some of Franks photos, you can see how his hands are much more parallel with the ground than the adults’ hands are when he climbs. Although he is using his knuckles to make contact, he is still putting most of his weight on his palm and hands. Subtle, but really fascinating if you’re a primate nerd!

Climbing was a little bit easier and came on much more effortlessly than the whole knuckle-walking thing. We made sure he had plenty of climbing opportunities in his bedroom area, and of course grasping is one of the first physical skills that develop in infant primates. As soon as a baby primate is born, he or she needs to be able to grasp on to Mom even while sleeping. The transition from using this skill on Mom to using it on a rope or a tree is generally a smooth one. This was certainly the case with Frank, and we often marveled over how someone that was so ungainly on all fours could happily suspend himself by one hand. This has now evolved into some pretty tricky moves in which he can suspend himself by his right hand while beating his chest with the left. Then comes the need to coordinate the feet in the whole climbing process, sometimes keeping a firm grasp on one object with his foot while negotiating a gap with his upper body. This still results in a sloppy tumble about half the time, but he maintains the confidence to keep trying, which is another trait that is reinforced by his close relationship with his family.

Being transported dorsally (on the back) or ventrally (on the chest) by one of the females is also something that takes a team effort. The females do most of the work to get him into position, but he needs to recognize the signals and cooperate a bit when the position gets awkward. Most female primates develop their own style when it comes to transporting a baby, and these three girls are no different. Azizi is the master of the ventral hold and is not real keen on the dorsal hook up. Ndjia is pretty good with both, but often prefers what we call the “furry football” approach in which she carries him by the rump with his arms and legs wrapped around her forearm. It’s a bumpy ride and Ndjia’s limp (from a leg injury as a juvenile) makes it look pretty uncoordinated. It suits her personality, however, and it sets her up nicely for a perfect tumble in which she ends up laying on her back with Frank in perfect tickle position.

Aunt Imani gives Frank a lift.

Paul Donn hangs out with his little son.

Before Frank was born, it was not uncommon for the three females to spend most of the day in proximity to one another while Paul rested in his favorite nap spot on the other side of the exhibit. About two months ago we started to see a subtle migration of the females to the periphery of Paul’s nap spot. Now, more and more frequently we can see the troop within visual contact of one another and the females spending less time out of range from their silverback. Paul and Frank have an incredible bond, and when they are inside it is usually the two of them who spend the most time together, which in turn draws the females in closer due to Frank.

Once again, the little guy’s impact on the entire troop has been almost immeasurable and has been the key to our goal of allowing these magnificent animals to express natural, normal gorilla behavior so that we can share that special connection with our guests. Please join us for the San Diego Zoo’s Discovery Days: Absolutely Apes, presented by Bridgeport Education, September 17 to 20, and learn more about all of our amazing great apes. Frank is serving as the San Diego Zoo’s ambassador for the WAZA (World Association of Zoos and Aquariums) 2009 Year of the Gorilla celebration.

Greg Vicino is an animal care supervisor at the San Diego Zoo. He’ll be presenting a talk about Frank at during a Special Speakers program at the Zoo on Wednesday, September 30.

See video of Frank’s story

Read more posts about apes and monkeys

Although she is “up there” in age, Vila is in excellent health, has a good appetite, and normal behavior. She does have some age-related issues, so she does get senior vitamins and medicine for arthritis, which works well: she has no trouble getting around.

Living in Southern California helps as well, as the temperate climate is very easy on an aging gorilla, and even though she is missing a few teeth, corn on the cob is one of her favorite foods and she never misses a kernel!

When Vila goes on exhibit in the morning, we always say she looks like a powdered donut because bits of hay always stick to her! She likes to play with or cover herself in whatever she can find inside (hay, excelsior, paper towels) and it shows. For some reason, these items don’t stick to the other gorillas with quite the same grip!

Vila’s only child, Alvila, resides at the San Diego Zoo as do several of Vila’s grandchildren and her great-grandson, Frank (see post Frank the Gorilla: First Year). Frank the Gorilla: First Year She also has two great-great grandchildren at the Park, Jamani and Ajari. Vila has been a surrogate mom to many others and a mentor to many (including Winston, who needed some instruction on proper gorilla behavior), establishing herself as a very integral member of the Park’s gorilla troop.

We fully expect Vila to add years and years to the longevity record!

Peggy Sexton is a senior keeper at the Wild Animal Park.

Alvila was born at the Zoo in 1965 and was the first gorilla birth we had. She is currently a great-grandmother as well as the grandmother of Frank, the Zoo’s youngest gorilla, but she is not the oldest gorilla in our collection: that honor goes to her mother, Vila, who resides at the San Diego Zoo’s Wild Animal Park and turned 52 in October! (Read post Gorilla Vila is 52.)

Jessica, age 30, has had five offspring—all boys! Her youngest son is Ekuba, now four years old and the youngest in this troop. He, of course, is the most playful of the group and is the most likely to interact with Zoo guests, especially children. To get your attention, he may bang on or toss mulch at the triple-paned glass panels to see what kind of reaction he can get!

Jessica and Memba’s son, Mandazzi, is almost 8 years old and is considered a “blackback,” a name used for males between 8 and 12 years old. At 12 to 15 years, he will become more silver in color and be called a “silverback.” Ekuba and Mandazzi wrestle with each other daily as they practice the skills they will need to perhaps someday become a troop leader.

Keeper April told visitors that this particular subspecies of gorilla—western lowland gorilla Gorilla gorilla gorilla (isn’t that the easiest taxonomic name ever?!)—eats mostly fruit, leaves, ants, and termites in the wild. Unlike chimpanzees, they don’t use tools to get those termites; instead, these gorillas are so strong that they just smash the termite mound to get the tasty insects living inside! At the Zoo, our gorillas are fed a variety of produce and browse material six times a day, as well as special treats like Cheerios® and Wheat Chex® cereals. This food is scattered all about the exhibit, giving the gorillas plenty of opportunities to hunt for their meals.

April told me it is “awesome” to work with such a family oriented group of primates. “They are so incredibly smart and challenge me to be the best keeper every day.” Those who don’t like a challenge, she adds, should not be a gorilla keeper!

After April answered questions from guests, she went up to the roof of the gorilla building and tossed down Romaine lettuce, red cabbage, and green peppers to the apes below. Most of the gorillas waited patiently until the treats landed, but not Mandazzi; he caught the heads of lettuce and a few of the peppers in his hands and then dashed around in an upright, bipedal position, scooping up as much food as his arms could hold! It was a comical sight to see, and April assured me that Mandazzi is quite the character in so many ways. She promises to write a blog post about him soon!

Debbie Andreen is an associate editor and blog moderator for the San Diego Zoo.

In preparation for my Visit-a-Job, I got a TB test (mandatory to be around primates), avoided people with colds and sniffles like a hornet’s nest (primates are susceptible to many human diseases, and I didn’t want to be an accidental vector), worked like a maniac to get my assignments caught up in the office, and baked cookies for the keepers to help keep them motivated (positive reinforcement works with all apes!). Striding through the Zoo at 5:50 a.m. to meet the keepers, I was astonished by all the people already hard at work. Within minutes, I’d be joining them.

Our first stop was orangutans. We walked past clean, gleaming counters, down the steps, and into the orangutan bedrooms. Leaving the lights off, we walked down the dim hallway checking on each animal without waking them. Then the keeper expertly prepared the juice bottles for individuals who need medication (birth control, arthritis, etc.). Back upstairs I got to help plant some shrubs inside the exhibit: $500 had been donated by a school class, the plants purchased at a local nursery, and they had just been released from horticulture quarantine (a protocol to ensure no chemicals or pests are inadvertently brought into the exhibit). The horticulturist explained the challenges of exhibit landscaping, including making sure the plants, buds, and seeds are not toxic to the animals, the varieties of grasses necessary to keep an exhibit area green all year, and how to protect the plants from the ever-curious primates. Our plants were going in behind “hot wire,” which is a gentle deterrent at best.

Slathered in sweat by 7:30, it was then time to head over to gorillas and “help” get them ready for the day. I all but tap danced in the foot bath in the doorway, as the heady, sweet smell of gorillas met my nose. They were up and about, and not too rowdy. I had met the troop several months before while writing an article about Frank and his family for the Zoo’s member magazine, ZOONOOZ (September 2009), and believe me, it was high praise when Avila, an adult female, came over and carefully stared me down, perhaps trying to place where she knew me from. Paul Donn, the imposing silverback, sat with his (huge) arms crossed while little Frank checked in with everyone, waiting for breakfast.

The keeper opened a partition about a foot high, and Frank ambled into a holding area in which he is given his special breakfast. When Frank was born, his mother was not able to hold him properly to nurse, so keepers intervened to ensure he was getting enough to eat while leaving him with his troop to learn the rules of gorilla-hood (see Frank the Gorilla: First Year). He’s had the best of both worlds! He will be weaned from his bowl of warm morning porridge soon, but thankfully the spoon-feeding task is still necessary…and the keeper let me do it!

Frank is a good eater, and he peered unblinking at me scooping his gruel into his pink mouth. I could see his tiny baby teeth in the front, white as fresh snow. He also gets fresh fruit and seemed to really enjoy the slices of green bell peppers. He weighs a sturdy 31 pounds (14 kilograms) now. I was ecstatic having the honor of being this close to this amazing animal. I’m sure Frank could feel the adoration exuding from me; clearly no malfeasance could come from this love struck “naked ape,” so he continued to stare at me throughout his breakfast. And I stared right back, tickled pink.

Zoo keepers are busy bees, especially in the crunch time before the Zoo opens at 9 a.m. Scooping, sweeping, and hosing exhibits and bedroom areas, slicing, dicing, and preparing diets (and meds), checking on animals, inspecting exhibits for animal and public safety, the list goes on and on, and are all chores that need to be done seven days a week, every day of the year. The keepers’ deep commitment to the well-being of the animals in their care (and their wild counterparts) is remarkable, as is the patience for husbandry training practices they manage to include in an already jam-packed work day. I was grateful the keepers also made time for me!

Stay tuned for Part II of my exciting Visit-a-Job day, where we meet up with the bonobos and drop back in on Frank.

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for the San Diego Zoo. Read her previous post, Chicken Noodle Soup (Part 2).

The trick is to keep the animals’ lives as positive as possible, giving them pleasant, upbeat associations with doing your bidding, particularly when the animals are unbelievably smart, incredibly strong, and look suspiciously like you. Brief positive reinforcement training sessions in holding areas, which reward the animals for desired behaviors like presenting an arm or shoulder, also gets the animals where you want them to be. It was astonishing to watch. Not easy by any stretch, but quite effective.

Sometimes more than one bonobo would scamper into the holding area at the same time, and the keeper could tell if “these two would get along” in the closed quarters for a minute or two or not. Each presented its shoulder for a finger poke, then an empty syringe poke, and a treat. They seemed to enjoy this bit of interaction, and it will pay off for staff when the bonobos are desensitized to “pokes” and can accept shots and blood draws in a stress-free manner. Like their human caregivers, bonobos (and other primates) get annual TB tests, so it is helpful when they can just present an arm for the procedure.

Meanwhile, the group that came inside was rummaging around for treats and enrichment items, and in the excitement they were all communicating loudly at an ear-splitting pitch. The keeper looked on calmly, watching the group mingle and move (they have a fission-fusion society) with his hands on a wheel that will bring down hydraulic gates to separate them in different areas. It is better if they are good friends with all the group members, rather than BEST friends with one other animal, as that will invite aggression and the potential of an inseparable duo ganging up on others. Keepers do their best to let the animals’ natural behaviors shine through and make their lives as positive and interesting as possible. Often the biggest challenge is keeping these intelligent apes engaged and challenged every day. I was dazzled by the keeper’s deft talent for shifting the bonobos quickly and safely.

Orangutan

We then headed back up to orangutans to see if Karen had yet cracked the code of the hot wire to tear up the plants we’d put in that morning. Smart, dexterous, and patient, an orangutan can really give their keepers a run for their money, and it is so interesting to see the big “red apes” cogitating some riddle (like how to touch the newly planted shrubs), then see them methodically solve it. We arrived to find Karen lying on her belly, stick in hand, poking between the charged wires to touch the new foliage. Clever primate! (See post Karen: Will She or Won’t She?)

Time to finish off the day back at gorillas and say farewell to my buddy, Frank. His troop was off exhibit that day, so we went to the bedroom areas where the family was hanging out, resting, nibbling biscuits, and relaxing. (Everything but checking their e-mail!) Frank came over and began swinging from his rope with one hand and beating his chest with the other hand. I swear he was grinning.

At the risk of being a champion for the obvious, gorillas (and all apes) are incredible primates that deserve our utmost respect and conservation efforts. Gorillas are blessed with more strength than they need, enough social graces to get along in groups, and a calm intelligence that has kept them moving through African forests for millions of years. They are fearless when necessary and rely on convincing displays of their brawn before coming to blows. As humans, we should take note. I thought about the oil mess in the Gulf of Mexico, the bushmeat trade in Africa, the ways we are trashing the planet with pollution and overpopulation, and, looking at little Frank, I felt deeply ashamed as a human about how we treat our collective, finite “nest.”

“We’ll do better,” I whispered to him. “I promise, Frank, we’ll do better.”

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for the San Diego Zoo.

At two-years old, Frank is filling out physically through his chest and back and becoming more coordinated by the day. After all, hanging by one arm and beating your chest with the other takes some practice! Frank has also become more diligent in securing his favorite foods. One day he discovered a coveted tomato, but Aunt Ndjia wanted it. Frank threw himself on top of the tomato and squirted the tomato goodness into his mouth, in case she still wanted to wrest it from him. Clever gorilla! Frank also spends time with Grandmother Alvila, who is getting up in years and seems to really appreciate the antics of her progeny.

Frank’s father, Paul Donn, an imposing silverback by any measure, is an excellent role model, teaching him the fine points of leadership, posturing, and enjoying life in the Zoo’s Lost Forest. They have their rowdy play times, according to senior keeper April Bove, especially in the bedroom areas where they rip around, hay flying, chasing each other until the other one is suddenly “it.” “It’s really funny when 480-pound Paul Donn is chasing this agile little 40-pound gorilla, then suddenly he is ‘tagged’ and Frank takes off after him!”

Frank has been weaned off of his daily bottles as well as his vitamin-packed gruel, so he’s pretty much on his own for dining. In addition to tomatoes, Frank loves eggplant and any kind of fruit. The latter is used for training behaviors necessary for healthy husbandry practices. For instance, gorillas need a series of vaccinations (just like human kids) to stay healthy through childhood, and Frank has been trained to present his thigh and hold still while he gets his injections. Voluntary injections make Frank’s —and the keepers’!— lives much less stressful. And who wouldn’t sit still for a ripe, fresh strawberry? Frank is also willing to present his hands and feet for keepers to inspect and soon will master opening his mouth on command, which enables staff to examine his teeth and gums. His training is based on positive reinforcement, and Frank is perfectly happy to play along and humor his keepers…for a tasty price.

On exhibit daily 9 a.m. to noon, Frank is a fearless, energetic explorer who seems to enjoy interacting with “his public” on the other side of the glass. It’s no act. Frank has a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, even in his most rambunctious moments, and he is on a sturdy trajectory toward maturity. In another ten years, he will be a silverback running his own troop. They grow up so fast, don’t they?

Frank’s Ice Cake Birthday Celebration is Saturday, September 4, at 9 a.m. at the San Diego Zoo. Swing on by!

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for the San Diego Zoo. Read her previous post, Going Ape, Part II.

Watch video of Frank and his family…

Update: View photos of Frank with his cake…

Bethan and Ekwoge Abwe cross the Dibamba river in the dry season.

I spent weeks, and then months, scouring Cameroon forests for indications of drills–-large, elusive primates with colorful faces and large social groups. But more often than not, I just encountered more signs of human presence. The “empty-forest syndrome” was very disheartening. Many species were locally extinct, and the forest itself cannot survive without animals dispersing the seeds of hundreds of plant species. The entire rain forest system is a complex web of interdependencies that we humans are only slowly beginning to understand.

But then, while spending two weeks in a relatively unknown area called the Ebo forest with a local hunter, Jonas, I found what I had been looking for. After a night disturbed by several thunderstorms and flooded tents, we were awakened by the distinct sound of hollow, low-frequency beating noises on the other side of the river valley. The previous days had been spent finding indisputable evidence of drills in the area (footprints, turned logs, and smashed crabs), and we had heard chimpanzees distinctly on several occasions. I knew that this beating noise indicated the presence of something even more special-–gorillas.

After an hour scrambling up the other side of the valley, we eventually came across the gorillas. We spent an hour quietly watching a group of 11 individuals, until the large male silverback noticed our presence and made it patently clear that he wanted his family to be left alone by charging us noisily. We moved away slowly and left them to continue eating. But I had hit the field-site jackpot!

This two-week exploration led to the establishment of our two research stations in the forest, permanently manned by trained local ex-hunters, including Jonas, who now revel in the pride that comes with knowing that their forest is exceptional not only within Cameroon but within Africa.

The spectacular gray-necked rockfowl (Picathartes oreas) in the Ebo forest.

Now well established, the Ebo Forest Research Project is garnering interest from a broad range of scientists. Ebo is home to an amazing scope of creatures like Goliath frogs, the largest in the world, dwarf crocodiles, chameleons, the incredible rockfowl, which build clay nests against rocky overhangs, crowned eagles and hornbills, forest elephants (we are currently conducting our fourth annual forest-wide elephant survey), a myriad of monkey species, and the two great ape species, gorillas and chimpanzees. The Ebo gorillas are unique in being a “halfway house” between two different gorilla subspecies, while the Ebo chimpanzees are among the healthiest populations of these species remaining anywhere.

A yellow-bellied wattle-eye (Platysteira concreta) in the Ebo forest.

My role has slowly changed over the years from physically leading all the forest research work to training, supporting, and assisting our wonderful national staff to do this work, including maintaining a higher-education program. This “capacity building” of national staff is the only sustainable, long-term approach to conservation. Our program goals are to encourage local people to conduct research, as well as to work with the local communities, traditional authorities, and government to develop the Ebo National Park.

I still relish spending time in the forest, and I am still struck by the wonder of such a complex environment that we humans can barely understand. From the flowering of a tree species new to science (and of unknown benefit to humankind) to an army ant attack on our tents (terrifying but awesome!) to watching a gorilla family peacefully enjoying a morning snack, I think that conserving places like the Ebo forest should be a priority for all of us. We have much to learn from these few remaining wilderness places and their inhabitants.

Bethan Morgan is head of the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research’s Central Africa Program. Read her previous post, Elephant Survey: Frogs and Primates.

The biggest adventure the little one has had on her own so far was witnessed by ecstatic keepers during the gorillas’ lunchtime. Using fistfuls of grass as leverage, Imani’s little girl was able to crawl about three feet uphill, a bit more rock climbing than crawling, while Mom munched on broccoli and watched her baby’s feat from over her shoulder. Worn out, Joanne plopped down on her stomach and let Mom retrieve her.

Every day brings an exciting new accomplishment for this 3-month-old!

Jami Pawlowski is a keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read her previous post, Gorilla Baby: Chew on This.

2. There’s no such thing as a poisonous snake.
Contrary to pop culture and older versions of Encyclopedia Britannica, snakes are venomous, not poisonous. If they were poisonous, touching or licking a serpent would be the more appropriate fear than death by snakebite. And that’s even debatable, since statistics show that out of 7,000 to 8,000 snakebites per year in the U.S., only 5 or 6 are fatal. Call it semantics, but the truth is only 10 percent of the 3,000 species of snake are venomous, meaning they inject toxins into their prey (biting or stinging). The difference is skin deep.

You can see her riding on Imani’s back, hip, arm, leg, upside-down, right-side up, and everything in between. As soon as Mom sits down, Joanne lowers herself to the ground and is off exploring. The little girl has started to notice her older brothers wrestling nearby and seems eager to participate. Still a bit too small to get into the fray, you can often see Joanne watching intently or bouncing around by herself in the background.

Joanne is always very interested in eating anything Imani has collected; her favorites are lettuce, tomatoes, and acacia browse. While Mom will usually share her meals, it may be asking too much to expect Winston to share his favorite food—kale!

Jami Pawlowski is a keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read her previous post, Gorilla Frank Turns 6.

Update: We’ll be celebrating gorilla Vila’s 57th on Thursday, November 6, starting at 9 a.m. at the Safari Park. We hope you can come wish her well1

The birth of our first Uganda giraffe calf on January 8 was a marvelous way to kick off the New Year. However, shortly after Shani’s calf arrived, keepers noticed the youngster was exhibiting signs of weakness and not eating well. At two weeks old, Leroy was sent to the Safari Park’s Harter Veterinary Medical Center, where he spent 39 days in treatment for a severe bacterial infection. Nursing was impossible, so his human keepers filled in as surrogate parents, bottle-feeding the young calf three to five times a day. After extensive care, Leroy made a full recovery and was welcomed back into his herd with kisses and nose rubs in April.

2. Tanu’s spirited stripes.

The endangered Grevy’s zebra population saw a tiny black-and-white boost when Bakavu gave birth to her fifth foal, Tanu, on January 3. Tanu was able to tell his mother apart from other zebras in the herd and knew to stay close to her by memorizing Bakavu’s unique stripe pattern.

3. Parvesh, the lord of celebration.

Parvesh, which means lord of celebration in Hindi, was born on February 25 to mother Alta and father Bophu. When he was nine weeks old, the greater one-horned rhino calf moved into the Asian Plains habitat and started making his own rules. Parvesh’s charming personality demands the attention of our guests,

4. One little gorilla named Joanne.

When Imani had her first baby on March 12, the 18-year-old mother had to be sedated and whisked to the Harter Veterinary Medical Center for an emergency C-section. The fragile infant, named Joanne, stayed at the veterinary hospital for round-the-clock care. Due to the long labor, Joanne was having trouble breathing, and it turned out that she had a collapsed lung and pneumonia. Twelve days later, the baby was laid down in a nest of soft hay in the gorilla bedroom, and Imani was let in. The moment Joanne was reunited with her mother will forever live in our hearts. This gorilla’s story was (and still is) incredible.

5. Cheetah and puppy best friends.

Ruuxa and Raina became an overnight sensation. The six-week-old cheetah cub and seven-week-old Rhodesian ridgeback were the youngest animal ambassador pairing since the program began. Shortly after their introduction, Ruuxa underwent surgery to repair a growth abnormality in his limbs. Raina, whose name means guardian, stayed by the cheetah cub’s side throughout the procedure and continues to be an attentive and loyal friend.

6. Jackson, the curious okapi calf.

Gestation for okapis can last from 14 to 16 months, so the birth of Jackson in July was a highly anticipated event. The curious calf stayed close to his mother but kicked his way into our hearts as well.

7. A rare crane chick.

Our very first wattled crane chick shuffled its way into our hearts this summer. Wattled cranes are the rarest crane species found in Africa, so this chick was (and still is) a treasure.

8. Our first Masai giraffe calves.

We have a total of 134 Ugandan giraffes and 23 reticulated giraffes, but the births of Gowon and Kamau in July marked the first time Masai giraffes have been born at the Safari Park. While Masai giraffes are the most populous of the subspecies, all wild populations have decreased significantly since the late 1990s, due to habitat loss and competition with livestock for resources. Both are aptly named in the Masai language: Gowon (pronounced Go-wan) means maker of rain and Kamau (pronounced Kam-mao) means little warrior.

9. Four reasons to roar at Lion Camp.

Four little rascals debuted at Lion Camp this fall and almost doubled the size of our pride. Cubs Ernest, Evelyn, Marion, and Miss Ellen were born on June 22 but spent several months bonding with their mother, Oshana, behind the scenes. The cubs now spend their days pouncing, climbing, and testing the patience of their big cat parents.

10. Our spotted cheetah sisters.

Ayanna and Bahati received around-the-clock care at our Animal Care Center for the past few months. The cubs were born at the Safari Park’s Cheetah Breeding Center to Allie, but animal care staff decided to hand-rear the females because their mother has been unsuccessful with previous litters. Now, the female cubs have advanced in their training and have moved to different areas of the Park, awaiting their puppy companions.

11. Luke, a leucistic waterbuck calf.

Luke has been turning heads since his arrival in September. For decades, we’ve successfully bred over 20,000 rare and endangered animals, including 278 ellipsen waterbuck, but Luke is the first-ever animal born at the Park with a condition that causes him to have reduced pigmentation. He’s a stand-out guy and receives a lot of attention from guests taking a ride on the Africa Tram.

12. Petunia, the petite rhino.

Our 67th greater one-horned rhino, named Petunia, debuted in the Asian Plains exhibit after one month of close care. The calf weighed only 128 pounds (58 kilograms) at birth, which is small for her species, so animal care staff kept a 24-hour watch on the newborn until she was ready to leave her protected yard in September. Petunia and her mother, Tanaya, have been blooming and exploring their 40-acre (16 hectares) home since.

13. Satellite elephant calf Nandi.

Did you hear? Our satellite herd at the Reid Park Zoo in Tuscon, Arizona, got an adorable little boost with big ears this year. The African elephant calf named Nandi is doing well and enjoying time with her herd at the Click Family Elephant Care Center.

14. Four purr-fect cheetah cubs.

photo: Ershun Lee

Four adorable cheetah cubs were born to first-time mother Addison in July at our off-site breeding center. Wgasa, Reu, Pumzika, Mahala, and their mother moved into the Okvango Outpost (and our hearts) last month. It’s certainly wonderful to see so many spots and to watch a cheetah mother raising her cubs.

Jenn Beening is the social media specialist for San Diego Zoo Global. Read her previous post, 10 Festive Reindeer Facts.

Guests visiting the Zoo can see Jessica carrying her infant, who weighs just a few pounds, and holding him closely to her chest. The experienced mother has been bringing her baby to a glass viewing area, which is lined with outdoor heaters, where guests can observe the pair as she spends time cradling and nursing the youngster.

“Mom has been doing really great. She’s holding her baby and pats the baby all the time,” said Nerissa Foland, senior keeper at the Zoo. “The other troop members have been curious. They come over and inspect the baby, but he’s pretty much staying with Mom at this point, since he’s so new.”

Jessica forages for food items with the rest of the troop, tightly hanging onto her infant while searching for scattered food items. Keepers at the San Diego Zoo place food items in different areas throughout the exhibit to encourage the animals to search for food in a way that mimics what they’d do in the wild, providing them with an opportunity to thrive.

This infant is part of a troop that includes silverback leader Paul Donn, mother Jessica, and another female, Ndjia, who is 20 years old. The troop is expected to have access to the outdoor exhibit in the afternoons as long as weather permits.

Bringing species back from the brink of extinction is the goal of San Diego Zoo Global. As a leader in conservation, the work of San Diego Zoo Global includes onsite wildlife conservation efforts representing both plants and animals at the San Diego Zoo, San Diego Zoo Safari Park, and the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research, as well as international field programs on six continents. The important conservation and science work of these entities is made possible by the San Diego Zoo Global Wildlife Conservancy and is supported in part by the Foundation of San Diego Zoo Global.

Jessica also occasionally will let go of her grip on the baby as she forages, and keepers say the baby can already support his own body weight. The baby, who weighs just a few pounds, will grasp tightly to his mother’s hair and hold on by himself when Jessica lets go to look for food. Keepers at the San Diego Zoo place food items in different areas throughout the exhibit to encourage the animals to search for food (or forage) in a way that mimics what they’d do in the wild, providing them with an opportunity to express species-specific behavior.

This infant, born on Dec. 26, is part of a troop that includes silverback leader Paul Donn, 26, mother Jessica, 34, and another female, Ndjia, who is 20 years old. Since the new baby has been born, Paul Donn has been showing extra affection with Jessica and will sleep next to her and the baby. The troop is expected to have access to the outdoor exhibit as long as weather permits.

Photo taken on Jan. 14, 2015, by Ken Bohn, San Diego Zoo.

Fittingly, one year later, a second team of enthusiastic people assembled to help celebrate this joyful milestone. Safari Park volunteers and staff from the forage, horticulture, and mammal departments worked hard to transform the gorilla exhibit into a lively birthday bash. Decorations included ice cakes and cupcakes, fresh browse branches, streamers, papier-mâché balloons, colorful chalk drawings, cardboard box gifts and animals, and even an over-sized dollhouse large enough for Joanne and the other two youngsters in the group, six-year-old Frank and three-year-old Monroe, to climb on!

The entire troop partied all morning long, spreading out and claiming different areas of the exhibit and clusters of decorations to explore and enjoy. A lively and vibrant one-year-old, Joanne was able to partake in the festivities right alongside the rest of her family. Her favorite treat items seemed to be the flowering browse branches and the ice cakes, but she was also greatly entertained simply by bouncing around investigating all the colorful décor.

These days we see Joanne becoming a more active member of her gorilla troop. She interacts more often with other individuals besides her mom—including play sessions with Frank and Monroe. She has also shown brave interest in Winston, her rather stoic dad who is not often seen breaking character to fool around with the kids. When not playing with others, Joanne easily entertains herself. You can often see her using Imani as a jungle gym, or climbing up and sliding down ropes and smooth rocks around the exhibit. To a one-year-old gorilla, the world is your playground!

Jami Pawlowski is a keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read her previous post, Baby Joanne’s Growing Diet.

Jenn Beening is the social media planner for San Diego Zoo Global. See her previous post, DIY Succulent Centerpiece.

Alvila was born at the Zoo in 1965 and was the first gorilla birth we had. She is currently a great-grandmother as well as the grandmother of Frank, the Zoo’s youngest gorilla, but she is not the oldest gorilla in our collection: that honor goes to her mother, Vila, who resides at the San Diego Zoo’s Wild Animal Park and turned 52 in October! (Read post Gorilla Vila is 52.)

Jessica, age 30, has had five offspring—all boys! Her youngest son is Ekuba, now four years old and the youngest in this troop. He, of course, is the most playful of the group and is the most likely to interact with Zoo guests, especially children. To get your attention, he may bang on or toss mulch at the triple-paned glass panels to see what kind of reaction he can get!

Jessica and Memba’s son, Mandazzi, is almost 8 years old and is considered a “blackback,” a name used for males between 8 and 12 years old. At 12 to 15 years, he will become more silver in color and be called a “silverback.” Ekuba and Mandazzi wrestle with each other daily as they practice the skills they will need to perhaps someday become a troop leader.

Keeper April told visitors that this particular subspecies of gorilla—western lowland gorilla Gorilla gorilla gorilla (isn’t that the easiest taxonomic name ever?!)—eats mostly fruit, leaves, ants, and termites in the wild. Unlike chimpanzees, they don’t use tools to get those termites; instead, these gorillas are so strong that they just smash the termite mound to get the tasty insects living inside! At the Zoo, our gorillas are fed a variety of produce and browse material six times a day, as well as special treats like Cheerios® and Wheat Chex® cereals. This food is scattered all about the exhibit, giving the gorillas plenty of opportunities to hunt for their meals.

April told me it is “awesome” to work with such a family oriented group of primates. “They are so incredibly smart and challenge me to be the best keeper every day.” Those who don’t like a challenge, she adds, should not be a gorilla keeper!

After April answered questions from guests, she went up to the roof of the gorilla building and tossed down Romaine lettuce, red cabbage, and green peppers to the apes below. Most of the gorillas waited patiently until the treats landed, but not Mandazzi; he caught the heads of lettuce and a few of the peppers in his hands and then dashed around in an upright, bipedal position, scooping up as much food as his arms could hold! It was a comical sight to see, and April assured me that Mandazzi is quite the character in so many ways. She promises to write a blog post about him soon!

Debbie Andreen is an associate editor and blog moderator for the San Diego Zoo.

In preparation for my Visit-a-Job, I got a TB test (mandatory to be around primates), avoided people with colds and sniffles like a hornet’s nest (primates are susceptible to many human diseases, and I didn’t want to be an accidental vector), worked like a maniac to get my assignments caught up in the office, and baked cookies for the keepers to help keep them motivated (positive reinforcement works with all apes!). Striding through the Zoo at 5:50 a.m. to meet the keepers, I was astonished by all the people already hard at work. Within minutes, I’d be joining them.

Our first stop was orangutans. We walked past clean, gleaming counters, down the steps, and into the orangutan bedrooms. Leaving the lights off, we walked down the dim hallway checking on each animal without waking them. Then the keeper expertly prepared the juice bottles for individuals who need medication (birth control, arthritis, etc.). Back upstairs I got to help plant some shrubs inside the exhibit: $500 had been donated by a school class, the plants purchased at a local nursery, and they had just been released from horticulture quarantine (a protocol to ensure no chemicals or pests are inadvertently brought into the exhibit). The horticulturist explained the challenges of exhibit landscaping, including making sure the plants, buds, and seeds are not toxic to the animals, the varieties of grasses necessary to keep an exhibit area green all year, and how to protect the plants from the ever-curious primates. Our plants were going in behind “hot wire,” which is a gentle deterrent at best.

Slathered in sweat by 7:30, it was then time to head over to gorillas and “help” get them ready for the day. I all but tap danced in the foot bath in the doorway, as the heady, sweet smell of gorillas met my nose. They were up and about, and not too rowdy. I had met the troop several months before while writing an article about Frank and his family for the Zoo’s member magazine, ZOONOOZ (September 2009), and believe me, it was high praise when Avila, an adult female, came over and carefully stared me down, perhaps trying to place where she knew me from. Paul Donn, the imposing silverback, sat with his (huge) arms crossed while little Frank checked in with everyone, waiting for breakfast.

The keeper opened a partition about a foot high, and Frank ambled into a holding area in which he is given his special breakfast. When Frank was born, his mother was not able to hold him properly to nurse, so keepers intervened to ensure he was getting enough to eat while leaving him with his troop to learn the rules of gorilla-hood (see Frank the Gorilla: First Year). He’s had the best of both worlds! He will be weaned from his bowl of warm morning porridge soon, but thankfully the spoon-feeding task is still necessary…and the keeper let me do it!

Frank is a good eater, and he peered unblinking at me scooping his gruel into his pink mouth. I could see his tiny baby teeth in the front, white as fresh snow. He also gets fresh fruit and seemed to really enjoy the slices of green bell peppers. He weighs a sturdy 31 pounds (14 kilograms) now. I was ecstatic having the honor of being this close to this amazing animal. I’m sure Frank could feel the adoration exuding from me; clearly no malfeasance could come from this love struck “naked ape,” so he continued to stare at me throughout his breakfast. And I stared right back, tickled pink.

Zoo keepers are busy bees, especially in the crunch time before the Zoo opens at 9 a.m. Scooping, sweeping, and hosing exhibits and bedroom areas, slicing, dicing, and preparing diets (and meds), checking on animals, inspecting exhibits for animal and public safety, the list goes on and on, and are all chores that need to be done seven days a week, every day of the year. The keepers’ deep commitment to the well-being of the animals in their care (and their wild counterparts) is remarkable, as is the patience for husbandry training practices they manage to include in an already jam-packed work day. I was grateful the keepers also made time for me!

Stay tuned for Part II of my exciting Visit-a-Job day, where we meet up with the bonobos and drop back in on Frank.

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for the San Diego Zoo. Read her previous post, Chicken Noodle Soup (Part 2).