The aye-aye shows an extraordinary skill at detecting insects hidden beneath tree bark by tapping its way along a trunk, big ears cupped over the wood, using its keen hearing to distinguish tiny subsurface hollows. It then gnaws into the wood and uses its long finger to fish out the morsel. Yet despite such cleverness, when presented with food in a bowl, an aye-aye may not even realize that the food is to be eaten.
And despite the aye-aye's distinctive homeliness, the animals inspire a warm affection in their keepers and in Primate Center visitors.
The battle to save Marvin -- who hasn't received an official name since his survival remained uncertain -- began with a round-the-clock feeding schedule. Every two hours, Primate Center veterinarian Cathy Williams and staff members took turns feeding the infant a concentrated version of a human infant formula through a nipple-tipped syringe.
Williams also has launched a first-ever effort to analyze aye-aye milk, to better mimic it. Her project has presented the daunting prospect of milking the center's lactating aye-ayes -- potentially hazardous even with the amiable aye-aye, given their beaver-like teeth and jaws. However, the milking was accomplished, with one technician grasping the mother's hind legs, another the front, and a doggie chew-toy to distract the aye-aye. Williams is having the milk analyzed by the National Zoo in Washington, D.C.
Marvin's problem, said Williams, was that even with the frequent feedings, he just wasn't gaining weight as fast as another baby aye-aye, Kali, who stayed with its mother, Endora.
"I have a feeling that aye-aye milk is much richer than what we fed
him," said Williams. "The milk composition of nocturnal lemurs, in which the
infant stays in a nest and the mother comes and goes, is much higher in fat and
protein. The babies have to get all their nutri
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Contact: Dennis Meredith
Dennis@dukenews.duke.edu
(919) 681-8054
Duke University
8-Jul-1998