The last weekend of June 2025 brought me to Florida, where I came not only for a mini-fundraiser in support of orangutan conservation, but also for a profoundly personal reason: to finally meet Sandra, the orangutan whose story helped change the way we think about great apes and personhood.
Nearly a decade ago, I found myself in a Buenos Aires courtroom virtually on Skype, speaking on Sandra’s behalf. Then confined to the Buenos Aires Zoo, Sandra was already remarkable—not only for her quiet dignity, but for the legal challenge her existence inspired. That case asked a question the world was only beginning to grapple with: Could a nonhuman great ape be recognized as a person under the law? Could someone like Sandra, with intelligence, emotion, and an inner world, have a right to freedom and dignity?
The ruling that followed was historic. The court recognized Sandra as a legal person—the first orangutan to receive such status. Yet even as this decision echoed around the world, her transfer to a better life took time. Years passed before Sandra was finally moved from that aging urban zoo to the Center for Great Apes in Wauchula, Florida—a sanctuary that could offer her the peace and care she deserved. I had followed every step of her journey, but until now, I had not stood face to face with the being whose story I have shared in so many talks and writings.
On the cloudy day following the fundraiser, with rain threatening, our small group arrived at the Center. We were greeted by Patti Ragan, the Center’s founder and my friend and colleague of many decades, who made this encounter possible. After touring the sanctuary and meeting the many great apes—some well-known (like Bubbles, Michael Jackson's former chimpanzee pet), others quietly living out their days—we finally reached Sandra’s enclosure.
And there she was: Sandra, declared a person by Argentinian law, nonhuman yet undeniably an individual in her own right. She sat in the corner of her spacious enclosure next to a large outdoor fan, cooling herself with a blue plastic tub perched playfully over her head. Nearby, her companion Jethro rested in the cooler shade of the night house.
I approached, and Sandra’s dark eyes met mine. In that instant, the years and miles seemed to fall away. I felt the connection I had imagined so often—a connection born of advocacy, hope, and shared history. Perhaps Sandra felt it too, though surely for her own reasons. She didn’t smile, but there was a calm in her gaze, a quiet contentment as she enjoyed the sanctuary’s peace, surrounded by enrichment items and fresh browse that engaged her inquisitive mind.
As she held my gaze, I peered into her eyes and felt the weight of that legal milestone, the hard-won path that led here, and the privilege of finally meeting this extraordinary individual. Completing the circle of Sandra’s story, for me - the Orangutan Dad, meant not just helping begin her legal journey, but standing before her at last and bearing witness to the sanctuary life she so rightly earned.
