The Sloth Sanctuary Social Club

The Sloth Sanctuary Social Club

Neil, Natty’s husband, left her for a much younger woman, and at the time, she failed to recognise what a colossal favour he had done her. Lonely and distressed, Natty left the city that had been her marital home and moved to London. Despite still spending her working days in a mundane office job, she began to be offered life opportunities beyond her wildest dreams.

As part of a new marketing initiative at her finance company, she applied to represent it in Borneo, working alongside a well-known animal charity helping to save orangutans. The initiative behind its marketing campaign was that if the company was involved in charity work, it could be trusted to look after all your financial accounting needs. But for a woman in her mid-50s, slowly building a new future, this offered adventure was a far cry from the previous existence of the miserable, confused woman who had spent increasingly lonely evenings at home before the divorce.

After the success of Borneo, Natty was sent to work in Costa Rica at a Sloth Rescue Sanctuary. Here, she was partnered with two much younger women. In their allocated accommodation was a kitchen and seating area with a large television set, which could only broadcast far louder than she considered normal. At about eight o’clock each night, a young man, possibly late teens, would turn up at the house and take a chair in the corner of the sitting room. There he would sit, motionless in the semi-darkness of the room, with a black pump-action rifle resting across his knees like a sleeping dog. The boy remained in the sitting room all night and would leave them about six in the morning to join up with the rest of the bodyguards at the Sanctuary.

Her job at the Sanctuary was to help look after the large sloth population rescued from various life-threatening situations. The animals lived in individual habitats with shelves and large, sturdy plants for climbing purposes. She helped prepare their meals twice daily and cleaned the cages. They were cute to look at and far less dangerous than orangutans. However, unlike the orangutans, she failed to make a particular friend of any of them. The Sanctuary housed two-toed and three-toed sloths, and despite the round, gentle faces exhibiting an almost Mona Lisa smile, their rough greenish fur did not seem to beckon her to imprint her friendship on them. Every Costa Rican wildlife documentary she had watched before arriving had failed to identify the main differences between the two species. Unfortunately, her first encounter was with the larger species, which was prone to aggressiveness and was surprisingly far quicker and more agile than usually depicted.

The two women in her work team seemed to display total control of their animals and would march into the enclosures without a care. Natty, who had experienced working with a 220 lb male orangutan towering over her, was strangely wary of the 10 lb, 2-foot long sloths who often showed open aggression and were quicker than she’d thought. She would attempt to chat with them whilst serving breakfast, but the sloths seemed to assume an impression of deep loathing once the food had been served. Natty would back out into the safety of the walkway as fast as dignity would allow, unnerved by the unblinking, malevolent stare of the inhabitant whose mask of peace didn’t fool her for a second.

Her inability to speak Spanish, which her two female team members could, added to her difficulties making friends with the Sanctuary staff. However, the Sanctuary's owners were American and friendly with the animals, but not particularly with the staff. They had limited interest in her as she was only a temporary volunteer.

So here she was in a Costa Rican Sloth Sanctuary, unable to speak the language, failing to make a particular friend of the humans, … and worse, realising to her horror that she was not keen on sloths.

During lunchtime, she hung around the animal enclosures and would wander from cage to cage, waiting for the afternoon shift to start. In those days, Wi-Fi was minimal, and Skype and Zoom didn’t exist, and her housemates were increasingly becoming less and less her type. With no animal friends to chat with, she almost regretted coming to Costa Rica when she chanced upon a small corridor that no one seemed to enter, and here she discovered the new animal love of her life.

The Kinkajou, related to a raccoon, was about the size of a medium-sized cat, with thick brown luxurious fur and a cute teddy bear face. Here, the cuteness ended. Its crocodile-like teeth were hidden behind baby-faced lips, and anyone walking in the corridor avoided getting near the animal’s cage. The creature had four short, sturdy legs and a row of sharp claws on each foot. As it stomped around its cage, it strongly resembled a bear, almost pigeon-toed, but at the base of its back was a tail very similar to a monkey's tail. It was one of the strangest animals she’d ever seen.

Despite its teddy bear face, the creature was feared and avoided and hence had failed to make friendships with any of the keepers. It had no visitors and lived an isolated existence in a smallish, squat cage, with a sleeping area at one end and a small run at the other. Natty immediately connected with its loneliness and became captivated by that tiny, cute face. Surprisingly, he seemed to invite a closer interaction and bent his head to one side, clearly asking to be tickled. She carefully poked a finger in the cage. She began stroking it, being ultra careful that it didn’t suddenly twist its head towards her and latch on with those serrated crocodile teeth capable of tearing into skin, muscle and bone. Amazingly, the creature appeared relatively calm as she stroked it.

Two Costa Rican men who worked as keepers at the Sanctuary came running over, yelling “No, no”. She gently withdrew her finger, stepping away from the claws and teeth. She couldn't understand what had upset the excited, concerned men, but luckily, the visiting English-speaking Vet came over to see what the fuss was about. The two keepers immediately pointed to the English woman and held their hearts as they explained the problem. The Vet, looking suitably worried, turned to Natty and said:

“You must not go near the Kinkajou. It’s dangerous.”

“It seemed OK to me”, said Natty stoutly.

“No, you are forbidden. It has been responsible for attacking at least three people. One of the local men who works here was attacked and had a horrific wound on his neck.”

The two keepers stood by the Vet, shook their heads vehemently, and put their hands together in a praying position.

“These two men were so worried when they saw you touching it. Please don’t do it again.”

The animal pressed its small furry body against the cage, rubbing its head and making chirping and squeaking noises.

“Gosh”, said the Vet. “I’ve honestly never heard it make those noises before. It almost seems pleasant.”

“Can I try to stroke it again? I’ll be very careful.”

The Vet spoke rapidly to the two guys, and their expressions turned incredulous. After a quick talk, she said:

“OK, while we are here with you, but it is unpredictable, so please be careful”.

Natty turned towards the caged animal and said:

“Hi, Little One. Shall we go back to becoming friends?” Her finger went in, and the animal again bent its neck and assumed an expression of sheer bliss.

The Vet laughed. “No one has ever called that ferocious beast 'Little One' before,” she said. Pointing at the two sturdy, concerned-looking keepers, she continued: “These men are quite reasonably worried about your safety.”

Over the days, Natty chatted with her new friend, who would chirp and squeak. At the start of their relationship, it would frequently whirl around with glinting eyes, and she would rapidly remove her finger. The furry demon would stand looking affronted at her, as if outraged that it had let its guard down; but as she continued to whisper affectionately to him, it was soon asking to be petted again. In went the finger, and the petting continued. Every so often, the animal swirled its head towards her, and Natty would rapidly remove her finger and say authoritatively, “No, No, Little One. No biting.”

As the relationship continued, Little One made it clear he was not to be trifled with, and a respectful distance between the two friends must be acknowledged. She felt justifiably proud that she had earned his trust by standing her ground. She managed to control her voice and demeanour even when she thought she was in grave danger of losing a finger. She would make encouraging sounds to the grieved animal, especially when it stood staring at her defiantly, pugnaciously, causing her to laugh and refuse to be intimidated. She would sing when she’d run out of things to say to him, and it seemed the little beastie enjoyed this.

The keepers were so impressed watching the interaction between her and the calm animal that they often came to watch how the friendship was progressing. The Vet also seemed to turn up more often to watch them play. Occasionally, when Natty was occupied with her other tasks, she would hear a warbling screech, wild and wet with fury. Rapidly leaving the sloths, she would run to the cage as a chorus of “Miss, Miss” from the keepers could be heard. She would know that the little beastie was upset, wildly hissing, and attempting to attack. As she approached, she would call: “OK, I’m coming.” The demon in the velvet coat would slowly calm down and rub its compact, muscular body against the cage.

“Did the naughty men upset you?” she enquired lovingly.

At the Sanctuary, volunteers such as Natty were only expected to look after the Sloths. The full-time local men were expected to deal with the more dangerous animals, including the Kinkajou. It was supposed to take two men to clean his cage out, but the kinkajou was having none of it! So one man would clean, and the other would try to contain the hissing, violent animal, busily clawing or biting any perceived enemy. Since Natty and Little One were known as friends, her job was to keep him safely away from the two men as they rapidly cleaned his habitat. Sometimes, even with her cooing and singing at one end, it did not prevent the sudden flash of the eyes, but the Keepers had learnt to respond to any warning from Natty, and would immediately get their hands out and step away.

The relationship between the two grew deeper during their short time together. To be clear, the demon was never openly affectionate - but then it never attempted to maim or kill her - so that was a positive result as far as Natty was concerned. She certainly didn’t remotely tame it, but she had stopped being considered prey and slowly gained its trust. She always claimed that her English accent calmed the near-homicidal animal; she knew it couldn’t be her tuneless singing efforts.

The two girls in her team developed a strong friendship, while Natty made good friends with the Kinkajou. As such, she was held in awe by all the local keepers who had failed to overcome their fear of the small demon. The Vet was impressed with how Natty and the small fierce animal had learnt to interact so quickly, and invited the owner and his wife to come and observe.

“I’ve seriously considered asking the Vet to euthanise it”, said the owner. “He’s just too dangerous. We had to rush a keeper to the hospital after he took a bite to the neck — missed his artery by millimetres.”

“And yet... now he looks so adorable, " said his wife, smiling lovingly at the creature.

The owner stood looking at the once fiendish monster, who now appeared to have closed his eyes as if overcome by inner peace and slipping into a deep reverie, occasionally making a soft chirrup.

“I have never seen him do that, and I’ve never heard those noises from him. He’s a changed animal. How did you do it?”

“I simply spent time with him. He was all alone in this corridor and bored, I should think. Sinking his fangs into the keeper probably gave him a buzz and brought some excitement to his otherwise boring lifestyle.”

“True,” said the owner, laughing. “Do you think it's a gender thing—only gets on with females?”

“Don’t know. He loves big musical numbers — especially ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning’ and ‘Shall We Dance.’ Anyone with a gentle, affectionate voice prepared to sing to him should do it!”

When she left the Sloth Reserve, she wept over the farewell to her new best friend, whose mouth hung open in grief, exposing all its intimidating teeth. As she waited for her taxi, trying not to turn back for one last look, she heard a loud male voice cheerfully singing and whistling "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning," the sound drifting across the Sanctuary. She smiled as she briefly closed her eyes to conjure the image of the pint-sized demon happily listening to a private performance of his favourite songs.