Unlikely Friendships : 47 Remarkable Stories From the Animal Kingdom (14 page)

{I
NDONESIA
, 2010}

There is a sacred forest in the town of Ubud, on the Indonesian island of Bali, where monkeys roam freely over the stones of a Hindu temple built centuries ago. The primates are long-tailed macaques, and many local villagers believe they guard the religious site against evil spirits.

One macaque recently brought its protective instinct to a more secular task—safeguarding a scrappy kitten that had strayed into arm's reach.

With more than 300 macaques in four separate troops (territorial groups) living in a relatively small area, it's not surprising that they occasionally meet other animals pawing across the temple grounds. But to form a bond like the one that this particular
macaque formed with this particular kitten seemed extraordinary to the people who witnessed it. Anne Young, who was on vacation and visiting the Sacred Monkey Forest during the time, was one of these witnesses.

“The pair had been together a few days, and whenever the park staff tried to capture the kitten, it would just run back to the monkey,” Anne says. The macaque, a young male, would groom his feline friend, hug and nuzzle it, and even lay his head on the kitten's head as if it were a pillow. Although this species of monkey is quite social—and often lives without fear in close contact with people—this one wanted to keep his pet kitty to himself. He became wary of all the primates around him, and if other macaques or people got too close, he would try to hide his prize—once even using a bit of leaf to cover it—or climb higher or move deeper into the forest with the kitten in his arms.

The kitten, meanwhile, had plenty of opportunities to escape the macaque's clutches, “but it made no attempt whatsoever,” Anne says. It seemed content to be carried around in the bigger animal's embrace.

Long-tailed macaques live in a strict social hierarchy in which males must prove themselves worthy of female attention, and this troop was no exception. The kitten-petting male was not an “alpha male,” or leader, among his own kind, and was probably not getting a lot of affection from the other macaques. And he certainly wasn't getting much affection from humans, either, as macaques have become something of a nuisance in Ubud, where they wander into rice fields or villages outside of the Forest boundaries and wreak havoc on private property.

The kitten appeared to be traveling solo as well, and may also have been craving some attention and companionship. Fortunately for both unmated primate and homeless feline, they found what they needed in each other among the temple ruins in Ubud.

{MONTANA, U.S.A., 2006}

Bonnie, a morgan quarter horse, was just ten months old when she first came to live with the Muth family on their farm in Montana. She was adored by all, but especially by twelve-year-old Denise, an animal lover who immediately befriended Bonnie and spent six happy years closely bonded to the animal.

On a snowy morning after she'd turned eighteen, Denise was killed in a tragic car accident, leaving her parents heartbroken. Bob Muth says that as Denise's best friend and a beloved family member, Bonnie became the living link to their daughter.

As the horse grew older, her already gentle temperament mellowed into something even sweeter. “She was the most affectionate horse I'd ever known,” Bob says. “She would have come into our
house if she could have found a way to negotiate the front steps.”

So perhaps her actions one spring day, while extraordinary, aren't all that surprising.

Coyotes had set up a den at the edge of a field on the Muth farm, and that year the mated pair raised a single pup. An abundant supply of ground squirrels kept the animals well fed through the season. During the first week of June, Bob happened to be looking out the kitchen window and noticed a white-tailed deer giving birth in the barnyard.

The coyotes also noticed. And it quickly became clear that they were intent on getting the fawn away from its mother. “One coyote tried to distract the doe and get it to chase her while her pup was circling around from behind,” wrote Bob after the incident. “I ran out to ‘interfere' with nature,” but before he could do anything, Bonnie stepped in. Bob watched in awe as the horse got between the coyotes and the fawn, then positioned herself over the fawn to protect it. And to his relief, with Bonnie towering over the tiny animal, the coyotes gave up and moved on. “She didn't even have to chase them off. They knew they had no chance,” he says.

When the danger passed, Bonnie nickered softly and leaned down to lick the newborn as if she herself had just dropped a foal, nudging the baby into a standing position. “The fawn actually tried to nurse from Bonnie and seemed a bit frustrated that the horse was too tall to reach,” Bob recalls.

The encounter lasted about twenty minutes. The doe, breathing heavily in exhaustion from the birth, had watched from a few feet away. Now recovered and able to stand, she huffed in a signal to her fawn and moved toward the fence, glancing back to make sure her baby was following. The doe jumped over the fence and the fawn squeezed beneath it, and off they went. “Bonnie leaned over the top rail, watching and whinnying,” Bob says.