Is killing a primate a misdemeanor? (posting from the road)

There was one face that I was dreading more than any other in Guatmela...she is moody and difficult to reason with...I am sure some of you are thinking of Nancy, but no...I am referring to Poncha. It was a long day from the capital to Shangrila (nickname from the compound that we stay on in Southern Guatemala) thanks to a broken down bus and the first noise that I heard when I entered the premesis was the shrill shriek of Poncha, the resident spider monkey.

Poncha and I have a history. On my last visit I had tried very hard to become friends with Poncha, talking to her in a soothing voice...bringing her treats...even saving her life, and how did she repay me? She bit me. It was after I was giving her an afternoon treat of fruit in an attempt to strengthen our bond when I felt a tug on my shoulder bag as I was walking away. I turned to see Poncha's tail pull my bag close to her cage, reach out with her hands, break the plastic clasp that was securing my bottle of Purell to the bag, take the Purell into the cage, open the lid and start slurping it back. Panicked, Connie and I ran for more fruit and lured her back to the side of the cage, while she was distracted with some watermelon, I reached in and snatched the Purell out of her hand.

My surpirse attack was successful and I was able retrieve my Purell but not before Poncha had a chance to sink her fangs down onto my hand. I didn't bother with any further medical treatment...the best time to get bit by a monkey is immediately after then drink hand sanitizer.

So with our history I approached the situation very cautiously. I started just talking to her from afar and eventually moved on to providing treats, the way to a monkeys heart is through treats. By the end of my stay Poncha would easily come to me when called, let me rub her tummy, massage her shoulders and hold her hand - I sensed that we had buried the hatchett.

On our final night, I split from the group to go and give Poncha a snack of Ritz crackers before bed. Tom, a doctor who had been on the previous trip with me and who was unaware of the truce between the monkey and I, jokingly implied that I was going to sneak out and murder the aging primate. I laughingly ensured him that that was far from the truth - Poncha was my new friend! That was my conscience speaking...it seems my subconscious had other ideas...

Poncha greedily grabbed the cracker and inhaled it as if it was the first morsel she had ever eaten...it was dark so I couldn't see her clearly but the sound of choking is universal. I stared wide eyed into the cage and could make out the shadow of a hunched over spider monkey, attempting to dislodge the dry cracker in vain...Tom's last words echoed in my mind. Maybe I was a monkey murderer? I am not exactly known for forgiveness...maybe my sub-conscious had planned this all along...then Poncha gazed up at me.

I tried to figure out if I should try and reach into the cage and heimlich Poncha...how hard do you squeeze a monkey? I thought back to the cause of the chocking...dry Ritz carckers...water, that's what I would want in this situation. So off I bolted again to the kitchen to try and save the life of this monkey...but how do you give water to a monkey? I grabbed a large glass of filtered water and dashed, back to the cage and held the glass next to the fence...a relieved monkey reached out and tilted the glass upright, frantically sipping away.

When Poncha gave a clearing cough, we both breathed a huge sigh of relief and slumped to the ground. As we sat there, next to each other with just the cage fence seperating us - two very relieved mammals - I felt a bond, she may not be able to tell me, but I knew she was thankful and saw me as a friend...then I felt her little paw tapping me, searching for more crackers.