During the 1980's Lesley considered the idea of having a pet monkey. Unfortunately, at the time there was not much information or understanding about what it would be like to have a monkey as a pet. So, Lesley moved ahead and purchased a Spider monkey, that she named Oscar. Like all baby monkeys, Oscar was cute and endearing. But he soon grew up, and like all nonhuman primates, he became rambunctious, highly competitive with food and attention, and unpredictable. One day, Oscar ran into the kitchen, stole some food and ran out the open door. Sadly this incident led to his death.

Losing Oscar was a devastating experience. It pushed Lesley to learn more about these animals and to talk to professionals about their needs. During the fall of 1993, Lesley flew out to upstate New York to talk to a man who claimed to be an "expert" on chimpanzees. Instead, she arrived at a begrimed trailer park with numerous cages butted up next to each other in a metal mobile home. The chimpanzees had no outdoor access and the windows were so dirty that barely any natural light could shine through. It was then that she glanced into one of the cages and saw an adult male chimpanzee, named Topo. It was at this moment when their eyes met that Lesley proclaimed her mission in life - to offer lifetime sanctuary to adult chimpanzees in need.

At this same time, Central Washington University was building a new modern facility for their chimpanzee family, and put their old indoor cages on auction. Lesley made her way up to Washington and purchased all of these materials, and that was the beginning of Chimps Inc.

Lesley then converted her four car garage into the first indoor play house and erected a large outdoor habitat so that Topo could feel the earth under his feet and the sun on his skin. It took Lesley two difficult years to free Topo from the trailer park but he finally made his way home, to Oregon on October 10, 1995.

After spending his first day to adjust to his new home Topo decided to explore his new outdoor habitat. As Lesley opened the door, Topo cautiously stepped outside. He had not felt the earth under his feet for many years, if ever. He ran over with big pant hoots, as if he was thanking us for all that he had done.

Like Topo, each of our chimpanzees arrived bearing the scars - both physical and psychological - of years of systematic neglect or abuse. Fortunately, all of them have recovered so amazingly fast. Although they are still in prison and always will be because of humans, we like to think they can enjoy the rest of their captive lives in a happy, comfortable, and safe environment.