I Never Intended Having a Monkey as a Pet - Why You Should Think Twice Before Getting One Yourself

My husband is an American, and he likes to tell the story about the time he was saved by a monkey.

He was 2 years old and somehow managed to open the bedroom window and crawl up onto the ledge, two-stories above ground.

His Mother was in another room, and she was babysitting "Annie", a young Chimpanzee, for her friend.

She suddenly heard the monkey scream, and was horrified when she made it to the bedroom and saw the monkey holding her son's little arm as he dangled outside the window.

He had slipped, and he would have fallen to his death, but that monkey saw him on the ledge and somehow knew he was in danger.

Annie held onto his arm until his Mother pulled him back inside, more than a little relieved as you can imagine.

A monkey saved my husband from death.

So It Was No Surprise When...

I came across this little guy in the photo below, living in squalid conditions and malnourished from being fed inappropriate food.

He had been purchased by a young guy in college who probably thought it might help him be a chick-magnet by having a monkey.

Little did he know how troublesome it would be caring for him, and so he gave the monkey to a friend of his, who just happened to be a friend of my sister.

Boo, as we were soon to name him, was kept outside in the open with no cover, meaning he was getting drenched each time it rained.

That sad look that Long-tail Macaques naturally have, coupled with his circumstances, made him seem hopelessly sad.

When I told my husband about it, his eyes instantly lit up.

"See how much they'll take for him so we can get him away from there".

My husband's idea was that we could keep him for about a month and get him healthy, and then we would find some kind of animal shelter for him.

He saw it as a payback opportunity, and he wasn't going to pass the chance up.

Boo's Happy New Home (But Not Really...)

When I brought Boo into the house, perched in my arm, he was tired and looking down at the ground.

My husband magically appeared, extending a big piece of coffee cake at him.

> "Hey there, little guy!"

Boo's head snapped up and his eyes flew wide when he saw the food.

But before he grabbed it, he looked up at my husband and gave him a huge grin, teeth and gums showing in full.

It was the only time we would ever see Boo that happy over the next two years.

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Photo of Boo in my Sister's arm

To make a long story shorter, Boo wanted to go home to his Mother, and it was something we couldn't give him.

We tried giving him love and attention, but he was never really "happy".

Our plan to keep him for only a month failed, because it turned out there existed no animal shelter for monkeys in the part of the Philippines where we lived.

We were stuck with Boo and he was stuck with us.

For his first year, we kept him outside our bedroom on the balcony, with a long leash tied to him.

He seemed ok with that.

Then as he started to grow, Boo started acting restless.

So we had a very large caged enclosure built for him, and kept him in there for the next year.

Bad idea.

Boo was lonely. At least when he was on the balcony he was able to see us frequently throughout the day.

Now, except for feeding time, he rarely saw us.

One day my husband mentioned how Boo seemed "miserable".

We agreed we should move him back on the balcony so he could see us more often.

But There Was a Problem.

Boo was now much bigger than when we first had him on the balcony.

And he was smarter. He could untie the leash, easily.

Still, he was happier, and we felt better about the situation.

Then one night I went out onto the balcony to feed Boo, and he wasn't there.

I went downstairs and outside to look for him. Macaques like to forage on the ground, and Boo had started doing that recently.

I called for him. No answer.

Then I saw him suddenly. He was on the grass by a rock, his head on the ground, as if he were listening closely to something.

> "What are you doing, Boo?"

He didn't acknowledge me. His head was pointed away from me, so it wasn't until I was directly over him that I saw the head wound, and the blood, and that he was dead.

I just remember letting out a little sigh and bending down to touch him.

He had apparently jumped from the balcony to the ground, lost his balance and hit his head on the rock.

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Boo should have lived a long time, with his Mother, with his clan...free and happy.

With us he lived only 2 years, and he was never content, or ever truly happy.

And so me and my husband are against the adoption of monkeys as pets. If you can really show them a lot of constant attention, it can work, I guess...

But they don't belong with humans. They aren't like cats and dogs.

It was criminal taking Boo from his natural habitat.

We tried to help. We tried to show him love.

It wasn't good enough.