Teaching Gorillas, Gently, How to Be Perfect Patients

 

By LIZETTE ALVAREZ

Published: August 23, 2011 

ORLANDO, Fla. — Lying flat on his oversize silver back near the exhibit glass at Disney’s Animal Kingdom, Gino gazed far into the distance, well beyond the curious gawkers. Yes, his eyes seemed to say, I am fabulous and mighty and infinitely photogenic so snap away at my 385-pound, muscle-bound physique.
Soon, though, he grew weary of the paparazzi. Garbo-like, he lifted his massive gorilla arm and rested it lightly over his face. No more, please.
You can’t blame Gino. Behind all that brawn, he has a weak heart, a fact of life for adult male gorillas. Like lifelong smokers and junk-food addicts, 40 percent typically die of heart problems. Moments earlier, he was inside his barn getting his periodic cardiovascular check-up. This involved Gino’s standing still in his cage, right up against the bars, while a trainer dabbed his chest with gel (which Gino swipes at and tastes every time) and then scanned his heart with a wand.
Not so long ago (about two years to be precise), veterinarians and ultrasonographers had to sedate gorillas to check their hearts and blood pressure. Human cardiologists, working in tandem with veterinarians, would ask what Gino’s vitals were when he was awake. To which, Dr. Mark Stetter, the director of animal operations for Disney’s animal programs would reply, more or less: “I don’t know. Be my guest.” Nobody took him up on his offer.
Then Dr. Stetter and his staff figured out a way to train Animal Kingdom’s gorillas to be still and cooperative during ultrasounds and blood pressure checks, a major advantage in helping pinpoint the state of their health. Now zoos across the country are following suit, using Disney’s guidelines and the Gorilla Health Project.
Trainers used verbal cues, hand signals and treats, like fruit, as positive reinforcement to teach Gino how to turn around and display the appropriate body parts. It can take several months to a year to train a gorilla to cooperate with trainers for the ultrasound scan. The gorillas have even learned to slide their arms into a special Disney-designed pressure cuff so they can have their blood pressure checked.
(Of course, Gino is not the only one who benefits from special treatment. A Spade fish has received a glass eye, Komodo dragons are trained to stand on a scale and poison dart frogs have learned to respond to a clicking noise by jumping into a container that can then be weighed.)
Relying on fruit and oatmeal as rewards, Beth Richards, an animal-care keeper, speaks to Gino lovingly but commandingly.
“You’re ready? Good,” Ms. Richards tells him. Gino raises his arms. A treat flies into his mouth. His hands, black and the size of baseball mitts, clutch the bars. “Hands,” she adds. He shows her his hands. Treat. “Bottom,” she says. Gino shows his back side. He turns to show his shoulder, a move that comes in handy when it is time for his shots.
“Closer, closer,” she instructs, softly. Gino puts his chest up against the bars and Ms. Richards moves the wand across the left side. The ultrasound monitor displays his left ventricle, the valves opening and closing. Gino’s family — his mate, Kashata, and their daughter, Lilly — eat in the cage nearby. In an alpha male moment, he walks to the side and pounds, ferociously, frighteningly, against the wall, a reminder of who is in charge.
Suddenly, something catches Gino’s eye. He stops. It is a Disney employee’s high-heeled pumps made of cork. He stares intently, almost wistfully, delighting in their delicacy, so exquisitely different from the dull work boots he sees every day.
“He loves shoes,” Ms. Richards says with a laugh. Too bad Manolo Blahnik does not make a size 30.