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SUNNY Temp: 69 °F Wind: CLM at 0 mph Thursday, August 29, 2002 SECTIONS Home Page Local News Sports Business Obituaries Life Opinion - Politics AP News Weather Classified Archives Site Map EXTRA Cyberchef E The People Golf Job Network Headbone Zone Wellness Connection Movie Times Newspaper in Education Oregon CarZone Outdoor Journal Personals Prime Times Real Estate Tempo A & E TV Times W3 Magazine CLASSIFIEDS Find a Car Find a Home Find a Job Find Everything E SOUTHERN OREGON Destinations Automotive Communities Employment Entertainment Publications Real Estate Recreation Shopping Calendar ABOUT US FAQ What's New Advertise Home Delivery Classified Ad Contact Us Media Kit Jobs @ Mail Tribune Email Story to a Friend August 26, 2002 Billy Smiley says his stump-tailed macaque monkey, Rosie, is 37 years old. She travels in the cab of Smiley's flatbed truck during his deliveries for Longboard Lumber. Mail Tribune / Bob Pennell Rosie keeps some fast company Macaque monkey rides with a Merlin trucker, who rescued her from a shop some 30 years ago By SANNE SPECHT for the Mail Tribune MERLIN — She rides shotgun in Billy Smiley’s delivery truck, belching, grunting and even screaming at customers. But people don’t seem to mind Rosie. Once they learn her story, Smiley says, they quickly become fans. Rosie is one of the oldest — Smiley believes the oldest — Asian stump-tailed macaque monkeys ever recorded. Her 37-year-old squat, round, silver-haired body, black humanlike fingers and bright red face are very unlike most people’s expectations of what a monkey looks like. "What kind of ugly dog is that?" is one comment that Smiley’s heard a million times. In addition to riding around with Smiley as he makes deliveries for Longboard Lumber in Merlin, Rosie also enjoys joining him for spins on his Harley-Davidson motorcycle and on his dirt bike, Smiley says. On the Harley, Rosie indulges her need for speed. On the dirt bike, Smiley says, Rosie prefers a more leisurely cruise. "She hunkers down low on the Harley. She really hangs on and gets excited. But she gets mad at me if I go too fast on the dirt bike. She also likes to enjoy the scenery," says Smiley. Before Smiley begins answering questions as Rosie’s personal biographer, his standard greeting to curious onlookers is always the same warning: "She’s OK. But don’t let her touch you." His second most-often-repeated disclaimer is just as alarming, in its own way: "I’d love to shake your hand, but I have monkey stuff on me." (Rosie isn’t potty trained.) Smiley will be the first to tell you living with an "ornery monkey" isn’t easy. In fact, he’ll tell you he isn’t a fan of keeping wild animals in captivity at all. "I grew up on a ranch. I think everything born wild should be left in the wild unless it’s injured, orphaned or in danger of extinction," says Smiley. But when Smiley first saw Rosie back in 1969, she was already far from her native Vietnam. Purchased as a baby by inexperienced owners, Rosie suffered the fate of many exotic animals — she grew out of the "cute baby stage" and was dumped. By age 5, Rosie was out of control and given to a pet store for sale. Labeled dangerous and considered incorrigible, she languished in a 2-by-2-foot cage at a feed store outside San Diego for almost three years. The store’s owner noticed Rosie seemed to have a connection with Smiley, who sometimes came to the store. Home from service in the U.S. Army, Smiley noticed, too. But he had no experience with monkeys, and as a young man of 26, he was not particularly keen on getting any. The die was cast in October 1972 when the storeowner told Smiley that because of new exotic-animal regulations, he was going to have the now 8-year-old monkey destroyed if someone didn’t buy her. Smiley took a deep breath, pulled $150 his wallet and took Rosie out of the store that day. "I knew she was always checking me out, but I didn’t need no danged monkey. They’re not good pets," says Smiley. "But I just couldn’t let them put her down. I knew what had happened to her wasn’t her fault." Over time, the two developed a system that Smiley says works for them. Smiley says Rosie understands considerable English and he is slowly learning stump-tail. (Research shows stump-tails have at least 17 graded calls — each having a distinct meaning.) The two have been inseparable partners for almost 30 years. Smiley has plans to put his experience and primate permits to good use. He is looking for property on which to build a nonprofit primate rescue facility for chimps and monkeys in need of a final home. In the meantime, Rosie lives with Smiley in his fifth-wheel trailer at night, and he has built her a luxurious 12-by-12-foot enclosure at Longboard Lumber. Smiley, a self-admitted perfectionist when it comes to construction projects, has fitted Rosie’s daytime digs with a swamp cooler, screened windows and indoor/outdoor living areas. He says a heater will be installed before the cooler temperatures arrive. Smiley says the heavy smoke from the Biscuit fire has been hard on Rosie’s aged lungs. He lets Rosie determine her level of activity these days. Smiley asks her, "Do you want to come?" If she unbundles herself from her blanket, she’s ready to roll. If he gets a quiet grunt — well, maybe on the next run. As challenging as living each day with an opinionated 30-pound monkey has been, Smiley says he considers himself lucky Rosie has been in his life for so long. "If anyone had told me 30 years ago I’d be living in Oregon talking about my monkey, I’d have laughed in their face," says Smiley. "But I just love her so much — so much." Sanne Specht is a free-lance writer living in Rogue River. Reach her at [email protected]. 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