Quest: Mountain Gorillas: Discovery Channel

Umoja Grown Up

Umoja seemed fine the last time I saw him, the day after his mother left the group. That was a little over a month ago. I remember thinking he looked suddenly very grown up for a three-and-a-half-year old. Even so, I was concerned that he might show signs of weaning stress, and had planned to check on him again within a week or so. But things got busy after Magda left for vacation. There was the snare in Pablo Group, the orphans were coughing, and I had to do the year-end accounting. Fortunately, the reports from the trackers were all good. They made a point of telling me that Umoja had a huge appetite.

Another Snared Mountain Gorilla, Part 3

I kept looking at the cloud-choked sky as we hiked through the farmland on our way to the forest. It had poured rain overnight, and I could only hope it wouldn’t start again until after I’d had a chance to dart Nyandwi. Pablo Group had moved up to the area known as Bikereri (as high as 3300 meters); it would be cooler there. When it rains at that altitude, my hands turn numb, no matter how many layers of clothing I’m wearing.

Another Snared Mountain Gorilla, Part 2

Several film crews have documented the lives of the mountain gorillas since I began working here, and each has asked if they could follow the vets at work in the forest. I’ve always said yes for a routine health check, but no for an intervention -- at least if I’m the one doing the darting. I know just how much coordination and communication is required to do this well, and as hard as we all try, when we intervene to treat a gorilla the operation is never as smooth as we’d like it to be. This is partly because we intervene as seldom as possible; apart from the vets, many of those involved may be helping for the first time. Our biggest concern is to avoid upsetting the gorillas to the point where we lose our opportunity to treat the patient — and in the process, compromise human safety.

Another Snared Mountain Gorilla, Part 1

Last week we dealt with yet another snared gorilla. The victim was Nyandwi (ne-an-dwee), a six-year-old female in Pablo Group.

The Newest Orphan: Amani

Though I haven’t met our newest orphan in person, I feel as though I know her. She’s the sixth gorilla our team has helped rescued in the two and half years since I started work for the vet project. That’s six too many. All three of the mountain gorillas survived, one of the two Grauer’s did not.

Umoja Weaned

I have a special feeling for the young gorilla Umoja, since I was the one who had the honor of naming him two years ago, at the annual ceremony in which infant gorillas who’ve survived their first year are given the names by which we know them. Umoja means "unity" — chosen because I was there as a representative of the non-profit conservation agencies working together in Rwanda.

Mushya and Icyizere Healthy Again

Every hike up into the forest feels different to me, despite the fact that I now have a pretty good idea of the terrain and "at least in Rwanda" the gorillas. I think it's because no two visits are ever the same. I'm bound to learn something new, for one thing. For another, my mind is usually focused on the purpose of my visit. If it's a routine health check, I'm thinking about when I last saw the group, their names, and medical histories, if any. When there's a patient to see, I'm filled with anticipation.

Orphan Exams

Finally, it was time to give all three “Goma orphans” their annual exams. This would be Mapendo’s second exam under anesthesia and Ndeze and Ndakasi’s first. Fortunately, the gorillas had no idea what was about to happen. Ndakasi simply wanted to play with Eddy, not realizing he held a syringe in his left hand.

Update on Mushya

In recent weeks, Mushya has taken me on a roller coaster ride. I've been visiting Isabukuru Group regularly to check on him and his mother, Icyizere. He's looked better each time, yet his fragile condition has worried me.

Only now, five weeks after treatment, am I convinced that he'll survive, at least in the short term. The reason: Icyizere. She is strong and active — and producing more milk. None of us imagined that one dose of ivermectin would make such a difference, especially since we hadn't believed that she herself was ill. Mushya had been our target.

Rechecking Mushya

During my recheck of Mushya and Icyizere the day after the intervention, I kept an eye out for fresh fecal samples. We wanted to follow the pattern of parasites now that we’d given the ivermectin. Icyizere had conveniently produced several samples within minutes of my arrival in the group. I’d brought one of them back to the lab for microscopic examination. I found — no surprise — that it was still loaded with parasites. But I had the impression that there were many more worm fragments than whole ones. Maybe the ivermectin had already killed some of the adults.