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How a chronically ill Bornean orangutan beat the odds to not only survive, but to thrive in his new home at the Los Angeles Zoo

by Megan Fox, Great Ape Keeper

It almost seems as though touching lives has been Minyak’s purpose in life. People who have never even met him have grown attached to him and his story. Those who do know him understand the depth of his determination to live, and honor and respect the individual who has had to endure a struggle unlike anything most of us can comprehend. When Minyak arrived at the Los Angeles Zoo in December 2001, he was just a shell of what he is today—a handsome, strong, confident, and sometimes silly 400-pound orangutan who trusts his keepers, is always engaged in his surroundings and cage-mates, and has even become a father.

Minyak was born on March 19, 1981, at a primate research institution on the east coast. He spent most of his life in the presence of other orangutans, yet his time there, as described by two of his former caregivers, was riddled with chronic illness, bouts of deep depression, and disinterest in and distrust of humans. He had little room and never had an opportunity to climb—seemingly incomprehensible for an orangutan, the largest arboreal mammal in the world. Minyak’s attitude was surely affected by his failing health and constant moves within the facility. He suffered a severe setback when Tupa, a female orangutan who had been his constant companion, died. The depression that followed Tupa’s death left him vulnerable to his illness and nearly cost him his life. He was expected to die but somehow found the will to keep going. At this point, his caregivers worked relentlessly with the orangutan Species Survival Plan (SSP) to find him a more suitable home.

There were few zoos interested in taking Minyak. He suffers from air sacculitis—an infection of the air sac—a respiratory illness that is impossible to cure and very difficult to treat. (In orangutans, the air sac extends from the larynx through the neck area and primarily serves to amplify vocalizations.) Minyak’s disease was accompanied by chronic pneumonia, which made him vulnerable to cold, wet, and damp environments.

Los Angeles not only has an ideal climate for dealing with such a disease, we also had a team of people willing to take on the challenge of caring for Minyak. While we recognized the severity of his illness, we also understood the importance of his survival to his entire species. Born to two wild-caught Bornean orangutans and having no siblings, Minyak was considered the most genetically valuable Bornean orangutan in North America. There were many risks involved in taking in Minyak. But one thing was certain: if he remained where he was, he wouldn’t survive to pass on his genetic legacy.

First Impressions
I did not meet Minyak until after he arrived at the Red Ape Rain Forest in January 2002. He had already spent a few months at Zoo Atlanta waiting for quarantine space to open at our zoo; then a month at our former Health Center. I remember seeing him and thinking how different he seemed from Bruno, who for many years had been our only male orangutan. Whereas Bruno is healthy and robust, Minyak was sickly, with a constant stream of mucous running from his nose. At that time he had an opening in his air sac that allowed it to drain—an undignified way to live for such a being. It was not just his physical attributes that affected me, but his whole demeanor, sullen and unintrigued by a new visitor.

Minyak was slow to adjust to his new surroundings. New experiences and unfamiliar items frightened him. Even the amount of space he had available was of concern, since he’d previously lived in a very small area where if standing straight he would hit his head. Everyone knew Minyak was going to be a challenge, but the extent to which this was to be true didn’t become apparent until November 2002.

A few weeks after Minyak was introduced to Rosie, one of our three Bornean females, he began what would become another life-threatening battle with his disease. Rosie was not taking to him well, and he began showing signs that his health was failing. His appetite decreased, he was coughing, and he was uncooperative with his keepers. It was decided that we should begin training him basic behaviors, such as shifting from one enclosure to another, and behaviors that would enable us to attend to his medical needs. His training was impeded by two problems. First, Minyak was very ill, and it difficult to train a sick animal. Second, he had not been with us for very long and hadn’t developed trusting relationships with the keepers—something especially important for an individual with a history such as his. Because of his worsening condition, we began keeping Minyak indoors and we halted his introduction to Rosie.

His condition at this time was the worst I have seen him to this day. He would seldom come to the front of his cage. Huddled in the back corner, we had to throw him food, much of which he would not eat. He developed bed sores on his hips, he was living on Capri-sun juice and minimal food, he had a horrible cough, he smelled of illness, and when he moved, he would drag his right leg. It became clear that Minyak couldn’t remain at the Red Ape Rain Forest. He was anesthetized and brought to the Gottlieb Health Center for what would turn out to be a very long stay.

A Fighting Chance
After much discussion between our veterinarians, human respiratory specialists, veterinary specialists, and animal care staff, Minyak underwent a risky medical procedure on January 16, 2003. His air sac was removed in a nine-hour surgery that had never before been attempted on a mature ape.

Minyak’s road to recovery was long and difficult. No one knew if he would survive, but those of us who worked with him did whatever we could to give him a fighting chance. His aftercare was extensive. He had not yet been trained to receive injections, so he had to be darted with his medication, sometimes three times a day. As if he knew this must happen, he would position himself just so to allow for an easy shot, many times handing the dart back to the person who had just shot him! We trained him to inhale medications from a nebulizer, something he had done before but never reliably. We also had to make up creative desserts to get him to take some nasty tasting medications. Because Minyak did not even like to be touched, we started rewarding him for not pulling away when we tried.

This period was hard on all of us. The vet staff had the unfortunate job of darting, the keepers and the vet techs did the training, which could be very frustrating. Minyak made slow but steady progress, and after almost a year at the Gottlieb Health Center he returned home to the Red Ape Rain Forest on September 17, 2003.

His disease will never be eradicated but it can be treated. Since his surgery, his bouts with pneumonia are fewer and less severe. We’ve learned to recognize the warning signs sooner and know how to treat them more effectively. Keepers now nebulize Minayk twice a day as part of his normal routine. He seems to enjoy the one-on-one time with us during these treatments, as do we. He also learned that he has a choice between a dart and a hand-injection when he does become seriously ill, and he consciously chooses the injection.

Prior to coming to our zoo, Minyak had never before set foot on dirt and grass. In August 2004, he went out on exhibit for the first time. Now he can interact with people through the glass windows, something he seems particularly fond of—especially when small children are present. He seems to enjoy being out in the sunshine, and even climbs.

The biggest change I’ve seen is in his demeanor. He has let his guard down and can enjoy himself and his interactions with his keepers. Most importantly, he is once again in the company of other orangutans. His introduction to Kalim in the summer of 2004 was a special time. She took to him quite readily and they spent only a couple of months together before she became pregnant. Their infant, Bosco Orangina Berani, born on February 22, 2005, is a triumph for many reasons. Her middle name, Berani, meaning “strength and courage” in Bahasa Indonesian, reflects the heart of the one who gave her life and saved his own.

Minyak’s success story is a tribute to those who helped him along the way, beginning with his caregivers and the SSP, who did not give up in securing a future for him. Our Zoo management deserves credit for their willingness to take him on and give him a chance. Our veterinary staff worked diligently along with the human physicians and surgeons to ensure that we could give him the best possible chance to live out a much deserved high quality of life. Bosco Berani is now considered the most genetically valuable Bornean orangutan infant in North America. Minyak has not only persevered but he has contributed to the conservation of his species, the most critically endangered of all the great apes.   

This article appeared in the Winter 2006 issue of Zoo View, the quarterly magazine of the Greater Los Angeles Zoo Association.