Tonia Haddix, the woman at the center of HBO’s 2024 docuseries "Chimp Crazy," has been sentenced to 46 months in federal prison after a dramatic saga involving perjury, animal mistreatment, and a hidden celebrity chimpanzee. The 56-year-old former operator of the Missouri Primate Foundation, once dubbed the “Dolly Parton of chimps,” was also ordered to serve three years of supervised release following her prison term, according to multiple reports from the Los Angeles Times, USA Today, and other outlets.
Haddix’s legal woes began nearly a decade ago, when the animal rights organization People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) sued her, alleging she confined several chimpanzees in cramped, barren enclosures at the now-defunct Missouri Primate Foundation. The case became a flashpoint in the ongoing debate over private ownership of primates in the United States and the treatment of animal actors long after their time in the spotlight fades.
Among the chimpanzees in Haddix’s care was Tonka, a primate with a Hollywood pedigree, having appeared in films such as "George of the Jungle," "Buddy," and "Babe: Pig in the City." The story took a turn for the bizarre when, after years of legal wrangling, Haddix claimed Tonka had died and that she had cremated his remains. This assertion, made under oath in official court documents, would later become the foundation for her felony convictions.
In 2020, Haddix agreed to a court order requiring her to transfer four chimpanzees to a sanctuary in Florida while allowing her to keep three others, including Tonka, at a new facility she was supposed to build. However, by 2021, authorities determined Haddix was not complying with the agreement. When officials arrived to remove the remaining chimps, Tonka was nowhere to be found. Haddix insisted that the chimp had died and provided what she claimed were cremated remains, a story she repeated in a tearful Zoom court hearing, as shown in episode two of "Chimp Crazy."
But the truth was far more complicated—and ultimately more damning. While filming the docuseries, the production team, which included figures behind Netflix’s "Tiger King," discovered Tonka alive and locked in a small cage in Haddix’s Missouri basement. The filmmakers, initially obscuring their identities due to the controversial nature of the investigation, eventually alerted PETA after Haddix discussed plans to euthanize the chimp. As Eric Goode, the director, told the Los Angeles Times, “I didn’t feel guilty… I felt like I was doing my job. But I felt bad for a friend, because I could see that the love story was spiraling out of control.”
On June 5, 2022, federal marshals and PETA representatives removed Tonka from Haddix’s home and transferred him to the Save the Chimps sanctuary in Fort Pierce, Florida. There, the once-famous chimp joined a community of 17 other chimps and began adapting to a new life, far from the isolation of Haddix’s basement. According to sanctuary staff and PETA, Tonka has thrived, enjoying vegan meals, painting, and even forming bonds with his new chimpanzee family.
The legal consequences for Haddix were severe. In March 2025, she pleaded guilty to two counts of perjury and one count of obstruction of justice. Prosecutors argued that her deception was not limited to the courtroom; she continued to challenge and defy court authority even after her plea, showing “no remorse for her criminal conduct,” as noted in court filings. Just two weeks after her guilty plea, a court-ordered search revealed yet another chimp hidden in her home, a clear violation of her pretrial release conditions. This discovery led to her immediate arrest and the revocation of her bond.
Throughout the ordeal, Haddix’s defense attorney, Justin Gelfand, urged the court to consider her troubled personal history. Gelfand described a life marked by abuse and instability, arguing that these experiences led Haddix to form deep attachments to animals. “This life taught her a clear lesson: humans are unpredictable and are not frequently safe or trustworthy,” Gelfand wrote in court filings. “In the face of these harsh realities threaded throughout her life, Haddix came to form secure attachments with animals.”
Yet, for animal welfare advocates, the sentence was a long-awaited measure of justice. Brittany Peet, the PETA Foundation’s General Counsel for Captive Animal Law Enforcement, stated, “Now that Tonia Haddix is locked up, she’s getting a taste of the suffering she inflicted on animals by imprisoning them in cages and denying them any semblance of a natural life.” Peet added, “PETA is relieved to see justice done and urges everyone to support the Captive Primate Safety Act, which will keep vulnerable monkeys and apes out of the pet trade and the hands of ruthless dealers like Haddix.”
The Captive Primate Safety Act, referenced by PETA, is a piece of legislation that would make it illegal to own primates as pets or use them in the entertainment industry, except for accredited zoos and sanctuaries. Supporters argue that such measures are necessary to prevent future cases like Haddix’s, where private individuals keep intelligent, social animals in conditions that fail to meet their physical and psychological needs.
Tonka’s story also drew attention from Hollywood. Alan Cumming, the British-born actor who starred with Tonka in the 1997 movie "Buddy," publicly pleaded for the chimp’s relocation and safety. The case, with its mix of celebrity, animal rights activism, and legal drama, captivated audiences and reignited debate about the ethics of using primates in entertainment and the responsibilities of their human caretakers.
Haddix, for her part, admitted in interviews and in the docuseries that she lied to protect Tonka from what she described as “the evil clutches of PETA.” In the third episode of “Chimp Crazy,” she confessed, “Tonka was literally on the run with me.” Her actions, however, ultimately led to her downfall and a high-profile prison sentence.
As of this summer, Tonka is reportedly thriving in his new environment, surrounded by his chimpanzee peers and free from the confines of a basement cage. For animal rights advocates and Tonka’s supporters, his newfound happiness is a bright spot in an otherwise troubling tale—a testament to the power of persistence, investigation, and, ultimately, a measure of justice for those who cannot speak for themselves.