My baby, Zoe, clings to my stomach. I swing from vine to vine, tree to tree, looking for something to eat. Perhaps a few berries or ants? I climb on to a low-hanging branch. I curl upside down and hang by my beautiful ginger tail.
Peering down at the massive river below, I inspect the current. I see three tourists on a canoe up ahead, their eyes goggling at the lush environment. Suddenly, my mouth starts watering and saliva drools down my chin. I think little Zoe’s mouth is watering as well. A man is holding a big juicy pineapple cut into dagger-like pieces.
I take my chance and leap on to the edge of the boat. Zoe is anxious, but I assure her it is going to be all right. Without thinking, I shove Zoe in front of a woman’s face and glare at the pineapple with my marble-like, hazelnut eyes.
I think I see the woman shift her hands slightly towards the delicious pineapple, but then she stops to stroke Zoe. I drop my baby, grab a few slices of fruit, snatch Zoe back and leap on to the dirt. It all happens quite rapidly.
I swing from vine to vine, tree to tree, all the way home. As I munch a big, juicy slice of ripe pineapple, I wonder if other animals in Brazil go to so much trouble for fruit. Maybe it’s just us monkeys. Oh, well… it’s totally worth it.
