Golden Lion Tamarin

On being a Golden Lion Tamarin

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Once you’ve seen a golden lion tamarin like me, you’ll never forget us. We are memorable for our fiery orange fur coats and long hairs surrounding our faces that are reminiscent of a lion’s mane. Fully grown, we are about the size of one of your stuffed animals, standing up to twelve inches (26 centimeters) high with a glorious foot-long (26 centimeters) tail. We weigh in at 1.3 pounds (620 grams). In short, we are downright adorable! Check out the photo gallery below to see for yourself!

I’m Mauricio, by the way, and I use he/him pronouns. We golden lion tamarins live in the tropical rainforest on Brazil’s east coast, called the Atlantic Forest.  There are towering trees here with overlapping canopies – though we stick pretty exclusively to the mid- and upper-level canopies.  The green is enhanced by a multitude of ferns, mosses, and vines punctuated with color from all the flowers.  If you’re game to join me on an adventure here, I’d love to tell you all about what it is like to live with such cuteness – yes, I mean me!

Humble Beginnings

I was born inside one of our many family homes, each a hole in a tree. My twin brother, Marcelo and I both weighed a cool two ounces and sported a full set of gorgeous orange locks. Dad helped Mom with the birth and gave us our first cleaning. Our older twin sisters, Lorena and Luara, and Uncle Luigi (my Dad’s twin) were also part of our family troop. We are a very close-knit family and to keep us toasty warm on our first day, and every day thereafter, they all huddled around us.

For the first few weeks, Mom carried us almost constantly as she went about her day. The rest of the family stayed close, nuzzling and gently sniffing us. By the third week, Mom started handing us off to Dad when it was time to move, and he soon became our main mode of transportation, although Uncle Luigi, Lorena and Luara were happy to help. Whenever one of them held me, I’d stretch as far as I could to get a better glimpse of the scenery.

When we were four weeks old, Dad occasionally allowed Marcelo and me to play on a nearby branch while the family ate. It was exciting but a little frightening, and we would dart back to Mom and Dad if anything spooked us. On those occasions, Dad would sometimes soothe us by peeling and mashing some fruit for us to munch on. It was so good that we’d stop fussing immediately.

Not Exactly Fending For Myself, But…

Everything was going swimmingly in my world until I hit the five-week mark. That’s when Mom started limiting access to the milk bar and the family stopped carrying me everywhere. Like, whatever! Thankfully, Dad was still a softie when it came to my requests to be held, so my transportation needs were at least partially covered for the next couple of months. Despite all my misgivings, I grew stronger and by the time I was about three months old, I was mostly getting around on my own and had stopped nursing.

Within the next month, I also became a pro at grooming myself and delighted in chasing and wrestling with my family while we were safely tucked among the thick vines high above the ground. Marcelo and I especially loved to play fight — usually, I bested him, which made it all the more fun. And when he wasn’t available for goofing off, I’d jump, twist, or just hang upside down. We always knew we were safe when we played because Mom, Dad and Uncle Luigi kept watch nearby, assuming a protective stance while watching for predators like hawks, ocelots, and big snakes like boas.

When Marcelo and I turned seven months old, Mom gave birth to another set of twin boys, Pablo and Paulo. I was quite intrigued by the new arrivals and was soon part of their babysitting crew. Like any good older brother, I took shifts carrying them and sharing my food.

Despite all our precautions, we lost Paulo when he fell off Dad’s back one day. We took turns carrying his little body for the next few days – it’s our way of mourning what happened. Nearly half of our infants don’t survive — often due to these falls — so this was only the first of many sibling losses, and later, of children of my own.

Moving On

Both Marcelo and I were lucky enough to survive to adulthood. We lived with Mom and Dad until we were four years old and then set off to find a new family where we wouldn’t be related to the females. We roamed the forest, often lingering in ranges that overlapped several troops, until we finally found a new troop with an opening. The mother tamarin had recently died – our average life span is eight to ten years — so her daughter, Kiana, took over as the breeding female. With that change, her father hit the branches -er- road to avoid inbreeding and voila, Marcelo and I were in!

Speaking of my twin, he will always be part of my immediate family. But some things changed between us once we had a lady to impress as only one of us could become the breeding male. My winning streak during our wrestling matches suddenly mattered. With Kiana in our midst, I arched my back while I walked along a branch, making sure everyone knew I was the dominant brother – and earning me exclusive rights to milady.

As the dominant pair, Kiana and I have several responsibilities. One is to mark our territory throughout the day. We do this by rubbing the scent glands in our chest along branches, sending a clear message to other families to stay off our turf.

Our other “chore” was to add to our family. When Kiana went into heat, I sniffed and groomed her frequently and flicked my tongue to entice her. In response, she approached and sniffed me more often and then nature dictated the rest. Four months later, our first set of twins were born: Andres and Adriana. Seven months later, we added Bernardette and Bruno. An astute observer will remember that my fun fact is that we almost always have twins!

I Love My Family but Others, Not So Much

Our growing family sticks to a regular schedule. We rise at dawn and leave our home shortly after daybreak. As we depart, we vocalize and wait for responses from neighboring families to ensure we aren’t moving closer to one another. If we inadvertently travel towards each other, our vocalizations increase. Every two days or so, this process fails and we encounter another troop. When we see them, Marcelo and I arch our backs, stare and vocalize to signal our presence. Our fur even stands up to help us look bigger than we actually are. Often, this display is enough to resolve the conflict, but if it does escalate to a physical fight, we will defend our family with our lives.

Fun With Food

Because Kiana has been in the family territory the longest, she gets to pick where we forage. She has two hundred acres (one square kilometer) to choose from and uses her extensive knowledge of the area to find food. Once she decides, we’re off! We move rapidly through the forest by leaping, running, and walking along the branches. Whee!

In the mornings, we forage for fruit. It gives us quick energy for the day. During the rainy season, this is our primary food source, which we supplement with nectar and gums during the dry season. As morning draws to a close, we shift our focus to finding yummy insects to nibble. And sometimes the snack bar even includes snails, tree frogs, and small fledgling birds. Gotta love that protein boost! I also use this time to actively teach the kids how to use their long fingers to probe for insects in tree crevices.

Midday Interval

As the afternoon sun warms the world, we shift from foraging to napping to beat the heat. We tend to stick out our limbs to cool ourselves, which I’ve heard is pretty cute. After a good power nap, it’s family grooming time. It’s an important way for us to strengthen our family bond and honestly, one of my favorite things to do is to groom Kiana! I even pick and clean her teeth! Once we are all spiffed up, we adults huddle with each other. While we are always wary of predators, we’re especially attentive while we watch over the kids at play.

Dusky Bedtime

As dusk approaches, we travel to a new sleeping site. We have many homes we use regularly but we never stay in the same place two nights in a row; it makes it harder for predators to find us that way!

Just before sunset, we forage for dinner before finding an available tree hole to tuck ourselves away. Over the last nine to twelve hours, we’ve bounded through more than half a mile (one kilometer) of forest so it’s time to get cozy. By dusk, we wrap our tails and bodies around each other in tight contact. After all, the family troop that stays warm and protected together get to live to see another day!