CHIMPANZEES AT ZOO ARE NOT HUMAN, COURT RULES

"A chimpanzee is not a legal person, a New York appeals court has decided, saying that no matter how great apes are, they cannot give back to society in a way that merits human rights. Rejecting an animal rights group’s bid to expand the definition of “legal person” to chimpanzees, a five-judge panel found that although the animals are autonomous beings they do not take part in the societal bargains that guarantee rights like bodily freedom."

The Guardian, Dec. 4, 2014

                                                                             El Zoo

                                                                   By Juan Montoya

It had been months since he had graduated from South Texas High School and Joe E. Sebato could not find a job. Everywhere he applied, he was met with the same response.

“Sorry, son, but I need someone with experience,” the potential employers would say.

It irked him to hear that and he would argue with himself as he walked to his home on Monroe Street gesticulating with his hands as if engaged in debate.

“How the hell do they want someone to have experience if they won’t give him a job?,” he would mutter to himself. “Can’t they understand that? Don’t they remember when they got their first job?”

Thoroughly convinced in the sheer injustice and righteousness of his position, Joe would arrive at his home to find his mother and father sitting on the porch shaded by the large ebony trees from the still-hot evening sun. His demeanor left no question in his father’s mind that he had not found a job.

  “Who’s going to give a long-haired hippie a job?,” his father would tell his mother, a point he had repeated endlessly to her in the past. “People want a decent-looking guy working for them, not some hippie wearing his hair like a girl. Now that I’m retired I need someone to help me. If he doesn’t want to work, what can we expect from him?”

It was usually at this point that Joe’s mother would intercede on his behalf.

“Ay, Mauricio,” she would start, “My son is a good worker, but if he can’t find a job it’s because there’s no one hiring.”

Although Joe appreciated his mother’s defense and her running interference for him with his father, he detested the recurring argument and he would withdraw to the relative safety of his room. He could hear them on the porch as the conversation deteriorated into a full-fledged argument about the pros and cons of his work ethic and about his obligation to help out with expenses on the home front.

“When I was his age I was already working and helping my dad to put food on the table...” he could hear his father begin. And on and on and on.

To drown out the arguing, he would turn up his record player. At the time, his favorite was Jimi Hendrix and soon, the psychedelic strains reverberated through the neighborhood.

This time the argument was too brief and he was suspicious when he heard the hesitant steps of his mother on the wooden floors of their home directing herself toward his room. His father’s car revving in their driveway and heading out in the road meant he had gone out in a huff to nurse his penas at the Palm Lounge.

“Mi’jo,” she said looking at the floor, “your dad is very angry and he told me to tell you that unless you get a job, you may have to leave the house and fend for yourself.” She wrung her hands and looked at the floor helplessly.

“I think this time he means it,” she said, almost crying.

The thud of the afternoon newspaper broke the gloomy silence that followed and Joe went out to retrieve it. Quickly, he scanned the want ads and what he saw made his pulse quicken.

There, in black and white, was his salvation: “Wanted, zoo keeper for the Gladys Porter Zoo. Apply in person starting tomorrow.”

He quickly grabbed all the change he had in the Prince Albert tobacco can and counted out enough to get a haircut.

At the Triangle Barber Shop, the barber, Mr. Treviño, looked up surprised as Joe walked in. His mouth dropped as Joe sat heavily in the swivel chair and asked for a haircut. Sideburns to the middle of the ear and clear sidewalls, Joe told him.

Mr. Treviño went to work with gusto. After years of having watched the neighborhood kids growing their hair below their shoulders, he savored the feeling of chopping the bangs and tresses off one of them. Seeing that getting this haircut was hurting Joe only made him enjoy his job even more. He was circumspect and made no small talk, afraid Joe might back out now that he had him where he wanted him.

 No, he said to himself, it’s not every day I get my hands on one of these hippies. Let’s not spook him.

The job was done in less than 10 minutes and when Joe looked himself in the mirror he saw a stranger staring back at him. Mr. Treviño held a hand  mirror behind Joe’s head and made approving noises.

“Ok, Joe?,” he asked.

‘Yeah, sure,” Joe murmured and handed the money to Mr. Treviño. He walked out into the hot afternoon and felt conspicuous without the shock of hair hanging around his head and neck. He felt a certain lightness and unconsciously tossed his head expecting the weight of his tresses to weigh on his neck. Nothing happened.

He purposely delayed getting home that evening until it was dark enough for him to enter unnoticed into the house.

Early next morning, he was dressed and gone before 8 a.m. He arrived at the zoo gates and headed straight for the vestibule and presented himself to the attendant.

“Yes? May I help you?,” she asked.

“I’m here about the zoo keeper job,” Joe said and unfolded the newspaper.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” replied the girl leafing through a thick black loose-leaf folder. “That job is already taken.”

Joe was stunned. “But its only a little after 8 in the morning. How can the job already have been taken?”

“Someone came in at 7:30 and got it,” she answered. “I can check again just to make sure.”

She leafed through the binder and confirmed it. “Yep. Job’s gone. Sorry.”

“Oh, man,” Joe said. “I really needed that job. Now what am I going to do?”

The attendant shrugged her shoulders and made sympathetic noises. She closed the binder.

Joe looked quickly at the black folder and asked, “Is that the list of jobs you have available here?”

“Yes,” answered the attendant absent-mindedly.

“Have you got anything else there?,” he asked hopefully.

The clerk opened the binder and looked through the rows of listings. “Mmm, no, no. Oh, here’s one. But I don’t think you’d fit this...”

“What is it?,” asked Joe. “I’ll take anything.”

“We have an opening for a biologist, a reptile specialist, and no, no...” she spoke under her breath as she looked. “Oh, wait, you’re about the right size, but no...”

“What is it? I’ll take anything. I’ll sweep the cages and clean the stalls.”

The clerk looked around. Since the zoo didn’t open until 10 am., no one else other than Joe was around the gates. She leaned close to the glass and talked in hushed tones.

“Well, there is  a job, but it’s for a chimpanzee,” she said looking around again.

“A what? A chimpanzee? You mean a chango?,” Joe asked disbelievingly. “You want me to work as a monkey?”

“Not any kind of monkey,” said the clerk. “A chimpanzee. You see, chimps are very expensive and hard to buy on the world market. Sometimes the zoo just doesn’t have the money to buy the chimps and bring them all the way from Africa...”

“But what are my parents going to say when they find out I work as a chimpanzee at the zoo? They would think I was crazy,” Joe protested.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want anyone to know about this,” she said hurriedly. “You’d wear a zoo keeper’s outfit home and to work. You’d change into a chimp’s outfit when you get here and get to the exhibit through a service tunnel. That way no one would be the wiser.”

Still incredulous, Joe looked at the woman and squinted his eyes. “You wouldn’t be pulling my leg, would you, m’am? I’m serious about getting a job. You shouldn’t joke with me like that.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly serious,” said the woman. “We’ll have to make you sign a form where you promise no one else will know about this arrangement.”

“And just how much does this job pay?,” Joe asked, now finally starting to believe the clerk.

“Same as a zoo keeper,” the woman responded. “Interested?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Joe said.

“Fine. When you come in tomorrow morning go to the dressing room behind the gorilla cages and put on the outfit. There’s zoo keeper outfit's there, too. I’ll need you to sign some income tax forms and you’ll be on your way. You can take an extra uniform home if you wish,” she said. “Sign here.”

Joe couldn’t resist putting on the spiffy khaki uniform with brown trimming and wore it home that very morning. He pranced down Ringgold Street and turned left at Palm Blvd. He turned right on Monroe and walked into the house.

His mother was visibly pleased as he walked in with this smartly creased pants and shirt.

“Mi’jo,” you got a job,” she said drying her hands on her apron and giving him a hug. “Look, Mauricio,” she called out to her husband, “Joe’s got a job!”

His dad came out from the bathroom and into the living room and looked at Joe grudgingly.

“About time,” he said, although he could not contain a hint of pride in his voice.

His mother quickly made him breakfast and went outdoors to hang the wash. She couldn’t wait to tell her next door neighbor Doña Berta about Joe’s new job. The word soon spread through the neighborhood clotheslines network as if by telegraph.

“I knew my son was a good worker,” his mother had told Doña Berta. “You should see him in his uniform.”

Joe started working the next day and after a few days the daily routine became commonplace. He would go to the zoo, take off his zoo keeper’s uniform, slip on the chimpanzee outfit, and slip into the monkey moat through the tunnels used to carry water and food to the beasts.

For the first week he got along famously with the rest of the chimps. Stretched out on a low tree limb, he would munch on bananas and stare back at the tourists when they came by the simian exhibit.

 “They look so much like humans,” some would say and throw peanuts at him.

When he got his first paycheck, Joe took his beaming parents to eat at a local cafeteria. At the cash register, he peeled off a crisp $20 bill and paid for the meal. He puffed expansively as his proud mother stood by his side.

It was toward the third week of working at the zoo that the incident occurred. Things were going great when he heard the chimps and other monkeys screeching and running pell-mell in the trees and up the ropes. Looking up in surprise, he saw that a lion had managed to leap over the moat separating the exhibits and was running directly toward him.

He didn’t have a chance, and before he knew it, the huge cat had a paw on his chest and roared loudly as Joe struggled to free himself.

Scared, he began to scream.

“Help! Help!,” he shouted. "Ayuda! Ayuda!"At the far end of the walk, a few tourists half-turned to see what the commotion was about.

The lion, with a deep roar from above him, suddenly turned down toward Joe and a human voice said, “No hagas pedo. (Shut up!) Yo tambien cameo aqui! ( Don’t mess it up for all of us. I work here, too.”)