Sam Trull's Sloth Institute: Raising Orphaned Baby Sloths

Facebook ↗WhatsApp ↗

Originally published 2020-02-16.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

Baby sloths normally spend their first months clinging to their mother's belly, learning which leaves to eat and how to move through the canopy. When that bond is broken, by a fall, a dog attack, a power line or a road, the youngster has almost no chance on its own. In Costa Rica, primatologist and photographer Sam Trull has built her life around giving those orphans a second start.

Trull grew up in Durham, North Carolina, and spent more than ten years at the Duke Lemur Center, starting as a teenage volunteer. After a master's degree in primate conservation at Oxford Brookes University, she came to Costa Rica to work with monkeys, met her first sloths at a rescue centre and never looked back. In 2014 she co-founded The Sloth Institute in Manuel Antonio with Seda Sejud, and she serves as its executive director.

The Institute's goal is not to keep sloths but to return them to the forest. Hand-raised youngsters move through a gradual "soft release", and many are later followed with tracking collars to check they are coping. The photographs below, taken by Trull herself, show some of the babies in her care at different stages of that journey, with a note on what each picture tells us about sloth life.

Where it began: Kermie and a rescue centre

Trull's path to sloths started in 2013 while she was wildlife manager at Kids Saving the Rainforest, a rescue centre near Manuel Antonio. There she raised Kermie, a two-toed sloth orphaned at about two weeks old. Earlier reports linked his loss to human encroachment on his habitat; the precise circumstances are not documented in the sources we checked.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A young two-toed sloth grips a leafy stem, its long curved claws already doing the work they are made for. Despite the name, two-toed sloths have two fingers on each front limb and three toes on each hind limb. Grip strength is the first skill an orphan must keep: a wild infant spends its early months holding on to its mother.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

Trull is pictured here with a three-toed sloth, recognisable by its darker face mask and shaggier coat. She has acted as a surrogate mother to many of the young animals she raises. The bond matters for feeding and comfort, but the end goal is always a sloth that no longer needs people.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A two-toed baby sleeps sprawled across a fluffy blanket. Sloths have a very low metabolism, roughly half of what would be expected for a mammal of their size, so long periods of rest are normal rather than lazy. For orphans, warmth is also critical, because their body temperature varies more than most mammals'.

Learning to climb

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

These two shots show a juvenile two-toed sloth practising on low branches, hanging upside down and testing its holds. Sloths spend most of their lives suspended beneath branches, and learning to move, feed and rest in that position is the core of rehabilitation. Practice usually begins close to the ground, where a slip is not dangerous.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

Another climbing session, this time with the sloth dangling from a single limb and looking straight into the lens. Hanging takes surprisingly little effort for a sloth, whose limbs are built for suspension rather than for walking. That is part of why they can stay in the trees for days at a time, coming down only about once every eight days to relieve themselves.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A baby two-toed sloth lies on top of a large teddy bear on the grass. Rescue centres commonly give orphans a soft toy to cling to as a stand-in for their mother's body. Having something to hold calms the youngster and keeps its grip reflex in use.

Three-toed babies

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A tiny three-toed sloth fits inside a coffee cup, which gives a sense of how small a newborn is. Three-toed sloths are pregnant for about six months and normally have a single baby. In the wild, the young stay with their mothers for roughly five months before living independently.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

Here a three-toed baby nestles against a teddy bear in a festive jumper. The playful props make for an appealing picture, but the plush has a real job: something soft and furry to hold on to. Three-toed sloths in Costa Rica are usually brown-throated sloths, one of the two species found around Manuel Antonio.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A three-toed youngster grips the handle of a woven basket, showing off the three long claws on each front limb. Those claws are hooks rather than weapons, ideal for hanging from branches. On the ground the same claws make sloths slow and vulnerable, which is why road crossings are so dangerous for them.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

This three-toed baby is nibbling a red flower. Sloths are mainly leaf-eaters, and they digest their food very slowly, which suits a low-energy lifestyle. Learning which plants to eat is one of the skills a mother normally teaches, so rehabilitators gradually introduce natural foods.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

What appears to be a very young three-toed sloth sleeps with its arms stretched over a white cloth, eyes shut tight. Babies this small need frequent care and steady warmth. Hand-raising them is round-the-clock work, which is one reason organisations like the Institute rely on dedicated staff and volunteers.

Rest, comfort and company

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A two-toed baby peeks out from a white towel, one hand raised. The pale coat, pinkish nose and lack of a dark eye mask are typical of Hoffmann's two-toed sloth, the two-toed species found in Costa Rica. Being wrapped up mimics the security of a mother's fur.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A three-toed and a two-toed sloth share a basket full of blankets. The two belong to different genera and differ in diet, habits and even the number of neck vertebrae, so seeing them together is a reminder that "sloth" covers quite different animals. In rehabilitation, each species needs its own routine.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

Three two-toed sloths snooze in a pile, noses together. Adult sloths are largely solitary in the wild, but orphans raised together may seek each other's warmth. Over time, as they become more independent, they spend more time alone in the trees.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

A close-up of a two-toed sloth lying back with its arms tucked in. The thick, grooved hair of wild sloths often hosts green algae that help camouflage them in the canopy. Hand-raised youngsters pick up their own fur community once they live outdoors.

Sam Trull and the Patient Work of Sloth Rehabilitation

The smallest baby in this set, a two-toed sloth just a few weeks old, sticks its tongue out from a nest of blankets. At this age it would normally be clinging to its mother around the clock. Long-term outcomes for babies orphaned this young depend on patient care through many months of growth.

Soft release: an open door, not a sudden goodbye

When a sloth is ready, it is not simply carried into the forest and left. In the Institute's soft release, the youngster moves into an enclosure in the forest close to the rehabilitation area. The door is then left open so the sloth can come and go, exploring further each time, while food and shelter remain available. Once it stops returning, the team checks on how it is adapting.

Since 2015 the Institute's tracking programme has followed released sloths, and it also fits collars on wild sloths to compare their behaviour with that of rehabilitated ones. The data has helped decide where to place "Sloth Speedways", rope bridges that let sloths cross roads safely. The Institute is not a sanctuary and does not open its sloths to visitors, because minimal human contact gives them the best chance in the wild.

How visitors can help sloths

Sloths look calm, which leads many people to assume they enjoy being handled. Trull has pointed out that this is a misconception: sloths do feel stress, and a sloth held for a photo may be distressed without showing it. In 2017, World Animal Protection reported that sloths in parts of the Amazon were being taken from the wild, often illegally, to pose for tourist selfies, and that many did not survive long in captivity.

  • Do not pay to hold, hug or take a selfie with a sloth or any other wild animal.
  • Watch sloths in the wild with a guide and binoculars, and keep a respectful distance.
  • Drive slowly in sloth areas, and keep dogs under control.
  • If you find an injured or orphaned sloth, call a recognised rescue centre rather than picking it up.
  • Support organisations that release animals and avoid public contact.

Trull's 2016 photo book, Slothlove, collects many more stories and pictures of the animals she has raised. Its aim, like the Institute's, is simple: help people love sloths in a way that keeps them wild.

Sources: Photos: Sam Trull. The Sloth Institute: Sam Trull; Wikipedia: The Sloth Institute Costa Rica; My Modern Met; National Geographic; Wikipedia: Sloth; World Animal Protection.

COMMENTS