Episode 454: Bats!

This week we’re going to learn about a bunch of bats! Thanks to John, Murilo, and Alexandra for their suggestions!

Further reading:

Why Bats Can’t Walk: The Evolutionary Lock That Keeps Them Flying

On a Wing and a Song—Bats Belt out High-Pitched Tunes to Woo Mates

Why some bats hunt during the day

Puzzling Proto-Bats

A pekapeka just walking around catching bugs on the ground [photo by Rod Morris, from link above]:

BLOOOOOOD! but a really cute smile too:

The western red bat looks ready for Halloween!

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

This week as monster month continues, we’re going to learn about bats! We’ve talked about bats in lots of previous episodes, but we have a lot of really neat information in this one that we’ve never covered before. Thanks to John, Alexandra, and Murilo for their suggestions!

John suggested we learn about diurnal bats and also asked if there are any flightless bats, maybe ones that live on islands. There are lots of island-living bats, and many birds that live on islands evolve to be flightless. It makes sense that bats might do the same thing–but I couldn’t find any information about any known bat that has lost the ability to fly.

The reason seems to be how highly derived bats are. That means they’re specialized, the only mammal known that has ever evolved true flight. Unlike birds, which don’t need to use their legs when flying, bats’ legs are actually part of the wings. The wing membranes, called patagia, stretch not just between the elongated finger bones of the bat’s hands, they also stretch between the arms and legs, and connect the legs too.

A January 2025 study comparing bat skeletons to the skeletons of birds determined that unlike in birds, where the size of the legs doesn’t have anything to do with the size of the wings, in bats the leg size and the wing size are closely related. If a bat evolves smaller wings, its legs also evolve to become smaller. That’s why there are no bats that resemble ostriches, with tiny wings but really long legs.

Another possible reason is that bat legs have evolved to point backwards compared to other animals. It’s not just the feet, the knees are also rotated backwards. That’s why bats hang upside-down when they’re not flying. Many species of bat never land on the ground, because they literally can’t walk at all.

But there are a few species of bats that can walk quite well. One is the increasingly threatened New Zealand lesser short-tailed bat. It lives in a few places in both the North and South Islands, as well as some small islands off the coast, although it used to be much more widespread. It’s also called by its Maori name, the pekapeka.

The pekapeka mainly lives in forested areas and is quite small. It’s brown with a lighter belly, and it has big ears, as do most bats. Its eyes are small and its vision isn’t very good, but it has a good sense of smell. Its wings are small so its legs are correspondingly small too, but its legs are also strong despite their size. It has a clawed thumb toe on its feet and on its wings that helps it climb around in trees when it needs to, and it also spends about half of its time on the ground. It walks just fine, crawling with its wings folded so that the ends point up and back, out of the way. And yes, its legs are rotated backwards as you’d expect in a bat, and it roosts by hanging from its feet in trees.

The pekapeka flies normally and catches insects using echolocation, just like other microbats throughout the world. It especially likes moths. Unlike almost all other bats, it finds a lot of its food on the ground too, using its sense of smell to track down spiders, insects and larvae, and other small invertebrates. It will actually dig into the dirt and leaf litter to find food. It also eats nectar and flowers, and is an important pollinator of some plants.

One great thing about the pekapeka is that the males sing to attract a mate. The sound is so high-pitched that it’s not practical to share it here, because you probably wouldn’t be able to hear it, but I’ll link to an article that has a sample bat song so you can listen.

Another bat that can walk just fine is one suggested by Murilo, the vampire bat. In movies, vampire bats are usually depicted as being humongous, as big as a person! In reality, those big bats are actually megabats, and megabats mostly eat fruit. Megabats are the ones that are sometimes called sky puppies, because they don’t rely very much on echolocation so they don’t have the complicated ears and noses that microbats do. Until recently scientists thought megabats couldn’t echolocate at all, but now we know they can, they’re just not all that good at it. The vampire bat is tiny in comparison.

There are three species of vampire bat alive today. They share the same subfamily, Desmodontinae, but have been classified in different genera because they differ considerably from each other. Their other relations are ordinary bats that eat insects, fruit, and other things that you’d expect from bats. Vampire bats really do eat blood exclusively.

The hairy-legged vampire bat is the most basal of the three species, meaning it retains traits that haven’t changed as much from its ancestors. It feeds exclusively on bird blood. The white-winged vampire bat also mostly feeds on bird blood, but it will sometimes eat the blood of mammals. It’s the common vampire bat that eats the blood of mammals.

Vampire bats probably evolved from ancestors that ate insects. Scientists hypothesize that they might have originally specialized in eating ectoparasites of other animals, or possibly insects that were attracted to animal wounds. If that’s the case, the bat would have already been eating a lot of blood along with the insects, and at some point it started taking a shortcut to getting that yummy blood. We know this has happened at least one other time, in a bird.

I thought we had talked about the red-billed oxpecker in an old episode, but if we did, I couldn’t find it. It lives throughout the savannas of sub-Saharan Africa and is brown with a bright orange bill and eyes, with a yellow eye ring. It eats ticks that it picks off rhinoceroses, cattle, and other large mammals, but it actually mainly eats blood. It’s happy to eat the ticks, because they’re full of blood, and the animals it perches on are happy that it eats ticks, but the bird will also peck at wounds so it can drink blood directly from the animal.

So it’s likely that the vampire bat started out eating ticks or other ectoparasites, then began eating the blood that oozed from the wound after it removed a tick. From there it was a short step to biting the animal to cause blood to flow, and within four million years, it was fully adapted to drinking blood.

The vampire bat has extremely sharp front teeth that stick out so that it can use them to make little cuts in an animal’s skin, after first using its teeth to shave the fur down so it can reach the skin more easily. Its fangs lack enamel, so they stay razor sharp. The vampire bat’s saliva contains anticoagulants, so the blood won’t clot right away and the bat can lick it up until it’s full, which takes about 20 minutes. It digests blood extremely quickly, so that it absorbs the nutrients from the blood and starts urinating the extra liquid within a few minutes of starting to feed. That way it can eat more and it can also stay light enough to take flight if it’s disturbed. If you were wondering, its poop is the same as other bat poop. It does echolocate, although not as expertly as bats that eat insects, but the common vampire bat also has specialized thermoreceptors on its nose that sense heat. It’s the only mammal known that can detect infrared radiation, and the only other vertebrates known that can do the same thing are some snakes.

Because vampire bats have to be able to walk around on animals to find a good spot to bite them, the bats have evolved to be able to walk, run, and even jump just fine. Like the pekapeka, it folds the ends of its wings back out of the way and basically walks on the wrists of its wings and its backwards-pointing feet.

Even though the pekapeka and the vampire bat are comfortable running around on the ground, neither has lost the ability to fly. Being able to fly seems to be baked into being a bat. So while it’s not impossible that a bat might eventually become truly flightless, it’s unlikely.

As for bats that are diurnal, or daytime bats, there are a few. A study published in 2018 determined that of the four known species of bat that routinely go out hunting during the daytime, all four live on islands where there are no predatory birds. That doesn’t mean that all bats that live in places where there aren’t any hawks or eagles or crows are active during the day, because most species are still nocturnal, but that seems to be the one requirement for a daytime bat.

John was also interested in learning about the biggest fossil bat ever found. Bats are delicate creatures and don’t fossilize very well, so the bat fossil record is really fragmentary. For example, until 2015 the oldest pekapeka fossil discovered was only 17,500 years old. In 2015, a new fossilized pekapeka ancestor was discovered on the South Island that’s been dated to 16 to 19 million years ago. The fossil shows that the bat was adapted to walk just as the modern pekapeka is, and its teeth are similar so it probably had a similar diet—but it’s estimated to be three times the size of the pekapeka! That sounds like it must have been a huge bat, but the pekapeka only weighs 15 grams at most. That’s barely more than half an ounce, or about the same weight as a CD or DVD, not counting the case. Its ancestor is estimated to have weighed as much as 40 grams, which is almost as heavy as a golf ball. It’s also what a typical vampire bat weighs, if you were wondering.

An even bigger fossil bat has been discovered in a fossil site in France, a country in Europe, and another in Tunisia, a country in North Africa. It’s called Necromantis and is estimated to have weighed as much as 47 grams, which is the same weight as two mice. Two nervous mice, because Mecromantis had strong jaws and big teeth, which suggests it ate small vertebrates–like mice. It lived between 44 and 36 million years ago in areas that were most likely tropical.

An ancestor of the vampire bat was even bigger, possibly as much as 60 grams. That’s just over 2 ounces! That’s a bit heavier than a tennis ball. It lived in South America during the Pleistocene, so recently that in addition to fossils, we also have subfossil remains. That means they’re mineralized but not yet fully fossilized. It’s called Desmodus draculae, and it was most likely still around when humans migrated to South America around 25,000 years ago. Big as it was, it still wasn’t as big as a typical megabat.

Because bat fossils are so rare, it’s led to a scientific mystery. We don’t have any fossils of bat ancestors that weren’t yet bats, but were evolving into bats. In other words, we don’t know what bats looked like before they evolved to be flying animals. The best guess is that the earliest bat ancestors were shrew-like animals that lived in trees and ate insects.

So far we haven’t mentioned any bats that live in Arizona, suggested by Alexandra, so let’s learn about the western red bat. Most bats are black, gray, or brown in color, but the western red bat is a cheerful orange with white shoulder patches and black wing membranes. It’s ready for Halloween all the time! Males are usually more brightly colored than females.

The western red bat lives throughout western North America in summer. It migrates to the southern parts of its range in winter, as far south as Central America. It’s also called the desert red bat but it actually spends most of its life in forests, where its red coat blends in with dead leaves. It eats insects and while it doesn’t spend much time on the ground, every so often it will drop to the ground to catch an insect before hopping back into the air. Not only that, but when the western red bat migrates, it will sometimes fly along with flocks of migrating birds in the daytime.

Unlike many bats, the western red bat is solitary most of the year. Also unlike most bats, instead of having just one baby at a time, it can have up to four babies in a litter. The mother has four nipples instead of just two as in most bats, and for the first three or four weeks of the babies’ lives, the mother has to carry them around while she hunts, until they learn to fly.

As a last note about bats, Murilo specifically mentioned that vampire bats carry diseases that humans can catch. (If diseases bother you, you can stop listening now because we’re almost done.) The common vampire bat does occasionally bite humans, usually the bare big toe of someone sleeping outside, or sometimes the earlobe or even the nose. Vampire bats do show a lot of resistance to blood-borne diseases, but they still spread diseases. The best way to avoid catching a disease from a vampire bat is to not sleep outside without shelter if you can avoid it, if you’re in an area of South America where vampire bats live. That means that if you’re out camping, bring a tent even if it’s hot. Also, avoid eating the meat of wild boar from South America. Not only can boars catch diseases from vampire bats that they pass on to humans, but wild boars also eat fruit partially eaten by fruit bats that also carry diseases. The fruit bats drop partially eaten fruit, the wild boar eats the fruit along with the saliva left on it by the bat, and then the boar can get sick from the saliva.

Most mammals can catch rabies. If you see a bat out in the daytime crawling on the ground, don’t assume that you’re seeing a very rare daytime bat that can also walk around like a pekapeka. Leave the bat alone and contact animal control, because most likely the poor bat has contracted rabies. If you touch the bat, even if it doesn’t bite you, you will have to get a series of rabies vaccines to make sure you don’t come down with rabies, which is an incurable disease and always fatal. That is way scarier than anything else we’ve ever talked about on monster month episodes!

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 453: The Skeleton Coast

It’s October, AKA Monster Month! Let’s learn about some animals of the Skeleton Coast–which sounds spooky, but actually isn’t.

Lots of brown fur seals [photo by Robur.q – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0]:

The desert plated lizard [photo by redrovertracy, some rights reserved (CC BY) – https://www.inaturalist.org/photos/45483586, CC BY 4.0]:

Rüppell’s korhaan [photo by By Charles J. Sharp – Own work, from Sharp Photography, sharpphotography.co.uk, CC BY-SA 4.0]:

The pearl spotted owlet is cute rather than spooky, but it has a haunting call [photo by Charles J. Sharp – Own work, from Sharp Photography, sharpphotography.co.uk, CC BY-SA 4.0]:

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

It’s October at last, and that means monster month! To start us off this year, we’re going to learn about animals of the Skeleton Coast, which sounds a lot more spooky than it actually is.

The Skeleton Coast is a stretch of coastline 310 miles long, or 500 km, on the Atlantic coast of Africa. It’s part of Namibia, a huge country in southern Africa that’s mostly quite dry, with two deserts within its borders. Because the country gets so little rainfall, it has to conserve water for its people, animals, and crops, so the government is serious about conservation and natural resources. It’s home to one of the most cutting-edge water treatment plants in the world, and since the government’s establishment in 1993, it’s been working to help farmers and citizens in general to practice sustainable natural resource management. It’s also a beautiful part of the world, with amazing geography, and animals and plants found nowhere else in the world, so eco-tourism has been increasing, which helps the economy.

Namibia is also home to the San people, who call the Skeleton Coast “the land god made in anger.” The northern part of the coast is blocked off from land by huge sand dunes, while the southern part is rocky. To get there, you have to cross a desert, and then cross a treacherous marsh that’s hundreds of miles across. Then to get home, you have to go back the way you came across the marsh and the desert, because launching a boat from the Skeleton Coast is impossible if you don’t have a powerful engine.

The sea along the Skeleton Coast is treacherous, with lots of rocks offshore, extremely heavy surf, and frequent thick fogs. There are around a thousand shipwrecks visible along the coast, with the oldest dating to the 1530s, and thousands more documented that aren’t visible or haven’t been found yet. Ships still wreck there sometimes.

Animals do live along the Skeleton Coast, especially seals. The brown fur seal, also called the Cape fur seal, has a huge colony in the northern part of the coast, which is a national park. The brown fur seal lives in various parts of southern Africa, with a subspecies that also lives on some islands off southeastern Australia and Tasmania. A big male can grow 7 ½ feet long, or 2.3 meters, and as you can probably guess from its name, it’s mostly brown in color. Males have a short mane on the neck that’s usually darker than the rest of its fur. It has magnificent long whiskers, especially males.

The brown fur seal mainly eats fish, but it also likes squid and will eat other animals like crustaceans and even birds. It can dive deeply and stay underwater for over seven minutes. It spends most of its life in the water, mainly only coming out on land to breed, give birth, and take care of the babies.

The seals used to be killed for their fur, but this was outlawed in Namibia in 1990 except by special permit, which has allowed the seals’ numbers to increase. The Skeleton Coast is named that mainly because of the massive amounts of seal bones that fur hunters left behind after killing and skinning seals.

Unfortunately, something the rocks around the Skeleton Coast collect are plastic debris, especially fishing debris like nets. So many brown fur seals get caught in the debris and drown that a group of volunteers called Ocean Conservation Namibia go out almost every day to help untangle seals.

The Skeleton Coast doesn’t get any rain to speak of, or only trace amounts in any given year, but it does get thick sea fogs. Most of the plants along the coast are succulents and lichens that don’t need a lot of moisture. A lot of larger animals that hunt seals along the coast actually live farther inland, like hyenas and lions. The animals that live year-round on the coast are much smaller.

That includes the desert plated lizard, which is only found in parts of Namibia and Angola. It’s a slender but strong lizard that can grow over 6 inches long, or 16 cm, not counting its long tail. It’s mainly the color of sand, tan or orange and gray, or gray-white, or some other similar variation, with a white belly, and this is because it lives on sand dunes.

The sand dunes are covered with scrubby vegetation, so in the daytime the lizards come out and eat anything they can find among the plants or in the sand, from seeds and other plant materials to insects and other arthropods. If a potential predator approaches, the lizard will dive into the sand to hide. Its scales are smooth and its legs are short, which allows it to “swim” through sand efficiently and fast. The desert plated lizard lives in small colonies, and although it only lives in this one small part of Africa, it’s extremely common throughout its territory.

A lot of birds visit the skeleton coast—306 of them, in fact, including Rüppell’s korhaan, a species of bustard that only lives in Namibia. It’s a gray and brown bird with black and white markings, with a long neck and fairly long legs. Its body is chunky but its neck is very thin, which makes it look slightly weird but very cute. It mainly eats insects, especially termites, but it will also eat small animals like lizards when it can find them, and it also eats seeds and other plant material. It’s small for a bustard, because bustards are pretty big birds, with the largest species, the great bustard that lives in parts of Europe and Asia, standing over three feet tall, or about a meter. Rüppell’s korhaan is about a third of that size.

Let’s finish with another bird that’s a little more spooky, considering that it’s October. It’s the pearl-spotted owlet, a little owl that’s found throughout much of sub-Saharan Africa, including along the Skeleton Coast. It’s a very small owl, barely more than 8 inches long, or 21 cm. It’s brown with lots of white speckles and streaks, yellow eyes, and two black spots on the back of its head that look like MORE EYES. It shares this trait with some other species of owl, including the northern pygmy owl of western North America, and in fact the two owls belong to the same genus, so they’re closely related.

The pearl spotted owlet is active during the day, but it mostly hunts at night. Since it’s such a small owl, barely larger than a typical songbird, it eats lots of insects, but it will also eat other small birds, bats, lizards, and any other small animal it can catch.

It’s not a very spooky-looking owl, despite having eye spots on the back of its head, but it has a spooky call. Listen to this and be glad you’re not a little bat hearing this sound and wondering if you’re in danger:

[owl call]

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 451: the Stellar Jay and the Gulper Eel

Thanks to Joelle, Jacob, and Anna for their suggestions this week!

Further reading/watching:

Gulper Eel Balloons Its Massive Jaws

Watch rare footage of a shapeshifting eel with ‘remarkably full tummy’ swimming in the deep sea

The beautiful stellar jay:

The maybe not quite as beautiful but really awesome gulper eel (with its mouth full of water, image taken from first video linked above):

The same eel as above but with its mouth open so you can see just how big it is!

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

This week we’re going to learn about a bird suggested by Joelle, Jacob, and Anna, and a weird fish also suggested by Jacob.

Let’s start with the bird, the stellar jay, also called Steller’s jay! In the last few years there has been a push among bird enthusiasts to change the common names of birds named after people to names that are more general. While Steller’s jay hasn’t officially been renamed to the stellar jay, a lot of people are calling it that already so that’s what we’ll call it here. The word stellar means outstanding, and that’s definitely a good description of this bird.

The stellar jay is a beautiful bird that lives in western North America down into parts of Central America. It’s closely related to the blue jay found in eastern North America, and if you saw it from the middle down you might think it was a blue jay, except that it doesn’t have white markings on its tail and wings. It has a blue tail and wing feathers with dark bars, but from about the shoulders up it looks very different from the blue jay. It’s silvery-gray, brownish, or black on its head, neck, and back. Some populations have a white eyebrow marking that makes the bird look like it’s frowning. It has a crest like the blue jay, but its crest is bigger, spikier like it hasn’t brushed its hair yet, and the bird itself is bigger overall than its eastern cousin.

The stellar jay lives in forests, especially coniferous forests, where it eats pretty much anything it can find. It’s an omnivore that likes insects and other invertebrates, eggs and baby birds of other species, and even small animals like lizards and mice, but it also eats lots of nuts, berries, seeds, and other plant material. It will visit bird feeders, and especially likes sunflower seeds and raw peanuts.

The stellar jay is a corvid, distantly related to crows and magpies, and it shares the corvid trait of being intelligent, sometimes aggressive, and loud. It will imitate hawks in order to scare other birds away from food, and it will often chase smaller birds away from feeders. During nesting season, the birds get a lot quieter, and the male will sneak his way to and from the nest to feed his mate while she’s sitting on the eggs. The stellar jay prefers to build its nest in a conifer, either in a hollow in the trunk or on branches close to the trunk.

This is what the stellar jay sounds like:

[bird calls]

Jacob also suggested we learn about the gulper eel, which is sort of the opposite of the stellar jay. It’s a deep-sea fish with a lot of names, including pelican eel and my favorite, the umbrella-mouth. It’s black or sometimes dark brown and can grow up to about three feet long, or 90 cm. Much of its length consists of a long, whip-like tail.

The gulper eel’s mouth is ENORMOUS, ridiculously enormous, especially considering how slender the rest of the fish is. Its lower jaw is hinged and is extremely long, with a stretchy pouch of skin that forms its mouth and I guess you can call them cheeks. It is a very weird fish. Most of the time it keeps its jaw folded down against its sides, so that the jaws are barely visible and it looks more or less like a regular eelh. But when it wants to, the gulper eel can unfold its jaw and gulp in water to inflate its pouch, which makes it look like a black balloon with a tail. It sometimes does this if it feels threatened so that it looks bigger, but the huge jaws are actually for swallowing animals whole.

Not only can its mouth stretch to engulf animals bigger than the gulper eel is, its stomach can stretch just as much. It has tiny teeth, though, so it’s not likely that it would try to eat animals stronger than it is, because if it swallowed a big fish, that fish might thrash around inside the gulper eel and kill it. More often, the gulper eel’s stretchy mouth and stomach allow it to eat large groups of very small animals, mostly shrimp and other small crustaceans. It also helps it swallow squid and other soft-bodied animals that are larger than it is but not dangerous.

The gulper eel has a well-developed lateral line system, more properly called the octavolateralis system. All fish and some amphibians have this system, and in many species you can see it. It’s a line or a series of dots along the fish’s sides, and it’s actually a series of modified cells that are super sensitive to water motion. The lateral line system is what allows schools of fish to stay in formation while moving around as a group, and it also helps a fish know when a predator is approaching or when potential prey is nearby. It can even help the fish sense obstacles in the water that aren’t moving, like rocks. In the gulper eel, instead of the sensory cells being in a tiny canal under the skin, they’re on the surface to increase the amount of information the fish can gather from tiny water movements.

At the end of the tail, the gulper eel has a tiny organ called a caudal appendage, which is translucent. It has tiny tentacles and glows with a pinkish light, although it occasionally flashes red. Some researchers report that the lateral line also sometimes produces bioluminescence. The bioluminescence may lure small animals to the gulper eel the same way the anglerfish’s lure does. It’s possible that the gulper eel sometimes hangs in the deep water with its long tail curved up over its head, waiting for prey to approach, but for the most part it’s an active hunter of small crustaceans and other animals.

You may remember from other episodes that most deep-sea animals can’t see the color red. Some predatory fish, including a species of dragon fish, use that to their advantage by emitting red light that they can see but their prey can’t. It’s possible that the gulper eel’s tail emits red light to help it find groups of the tiny crustaceans it mostly eats. It has very small eyes and we don’t even know if it can see the color red or not. We also don’t know if its bioluminescent tail also gives off other light wavelengths that would act as a lure to small animals, or if it uses its caudal appendage to communicate with other gulper eels.

The gulper eel lives in many of the world’s oceans, especially in tropical areas, in depths up to 9,800 feet, or 3,000 meters. Sometimes it lives in shallower water too. Because it lives so deep most of the time, we don’t know a whole lot about it. Luckily, in the last few years scientists have learned a lot more about it from deep-sea rover observations.

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 442: Trees and Megafauna

Further reading:

The Trees That Miss the Mammoths

The disappearance of mastodons still threatens the native forests of South America

Study reveals ancient link between mammoth dung and pumpkin pie

A mammoth, probably about to eat something:

The Osage orange fruit looks like a little green brain:

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

Way back at the end of 2017, I found an article called “The Trees That Miss the Mammoths,” and made a Patreon episode about it. In episode 320, about elephants, which released in March of 2023, I cited a similar article connecting mammoths and other plants. Now there’s even more evidence that extinct megafauna and living plants are connected, so let’s have a full episode all about it.

Let’s start with the Kentucky coffeetree, which currently only survives in cultivation and in wetlands in parts of North America. It grows up to 70 feet high, or 21 meters, and produces leathery seed pods so tough that most animals literally can’t chew through them to get to the seeds. Its seed coating is so thick that water can’t penetrate it unless it’s been abraded considerably. Researchers are pretty sure the seed pods were eaten by mastodons and mammoths. Once the seeds traveled through a mammoth’s digestive system, they were nicely abraded and ready to sprout in a pile of dung.

There are five species of coffeetree, and the Kentucky coffeetree is the only one found in North America. The others are native to Asia, but a close relation grows in parts of Africa. It has similar tough seeds, which are eaten and spread by elephants.

The African forest elephant is incredibly important as a seed disperser. At least 14 species of tree need the elephant to eat their fruit in order for the seeds to sprout at all. If the forest elephant goes extinct, the trees will too.

When the North American mammoths went extinct, something similar happened. Mammoths and other megafauna co-evolved with many plants and trees to disperse their seeds, and in return the animals got to eat some yummy fruit. But when the mammoths went extinct, many plant seeds couldn’t germinate since there were no mammoths to eat the fruit and poop out the seeds. Some of these plants survive but have declined severely, like the Osage orange.

The Osage orange grows about 50 or 60 feet tall, or 15 to 18 meters, and produces big yellowish-green fruits that look like round greenish brains. Although it’s related to the mulberry, you wouldn’t be able to guess that from the fruit. The fruit drops from the tree and usually just sits there and rots. Some animals will eat it, especially cattle, but it’s not highly sought after by anything. Not anymore. In 1804, when the tree was first described by Europeans, it only grew in a few small areas in and near Texas. The tree mostly survives today because the plant can clone itself by sending up fresh sprouts from old roots.

But 10,000 years ago, the tree grew throughout North America, as far north as Ontario, Canada, and there were seven different species instead of just the one we have today. 10,000 years ago is about the time that much of the megafauna of North and South America went extinct, including mammoths, mastodons, giant ground sloths, elephant-like animals called gomphotheres, camels, and many, many others.

The osage orange tree’s thorns are too widely spaced to deter deer, but would have made a mammoth think twice before grabbing at the branches with its trunk. The thorns also grow much higher than deer can browse. Trees that bear thorns generally don’t grow them in the upper branches. There’s no point in wasting energy growing thorns where nothing is going to eat the leaves anyway. If there are thorns beyond reach of existing browsers, the tree must have evolved when something with a taller reach liked to eat its leaves.

The term “evolutionary anachronism” is used to describe aspects of a plant, like the Osage orange’s thorns and fruit, that evolved due to pressures of animals that are now extinct. Scientists have observed evolutionary anachronism plants throughout the world. For instance, the lady apple tree, which grows in northern Australia and parts of New Guinea. It can grow up to 66 feet tall, or 20 meters, and produces an edible red fruit with a single large seed. It’s a common tree these days, probably because the Aboriginal people ate the fruit, but before that, a bird called genyornis was probably the main seed disperser of the lady apple.

In episode 217 we talked about the genyornis, a flightless Australian bird that went extinct around 50,000 years ago but possibly more recently. It grew around 7 feet tall, or over 2 meters, and recent studies suggest it ate a lot of water plants. It would have probably eaten the lady apple fruit whenever it could, most likely swallowing the fruits whole and pooping the big seeds out later.

Way back in episode 19 we talked about a tree on the island of Mauritius that relied on the dodo’s digestive system to abrade its seeds so they could sprout. It turns out that study was flawed and the seeds don’t need to be abraded to sprout. They just need an animal to eat the flesh off the seed, either by just eating the fruit and leaving the seed behind, or by swallowing the entire fruit and pooping the seed out later, and that could have been done by any number of animals. The dodo probably did eat the fruits, but so did a lot of other animals that have also gone extinct on Mauritius.

In June of 2025, a study was published showing that the gomphothere Notiomastodon, which lived in South America until about 10,000 years ago, definitely ate fruit. Notiomastodon was an elephant relation that could probably grow almost ten feet tall, or 3 meters. It probably lived in family groups like modern elephants and probably looked a lot like a modern elephant, at least if you’re not an elephant expert or an elephant yourself. The 2025 study examined a lot of notiomastodon teeth, and it discovered evidence that the animals ate a lot of fruit. This means it would have been an important seed disperser, just like the African forest elephant that we talked about earlier.

Another plant that nearly went extinct after the mammoth did is a surprising one. Wild ancestors of modern North American squash plants relied on mammoths to disperse their seeds and create the type of habitat where the plants thrived. Mammoths probably behaved a lot like modern elephants, pulling down tree limbs to eat and sometimes pushing entire trees over. This disturbed land is what wild squash plants loved, and if you’ve ever prepared a pumpkin or squash you’ll know that it’s full of seeds. The wild ancestors of these modern cultivated plants didn’t have delicious fruits, though, at least not to human taste buds. The fruit contained toxins that made them bitter, which kept small animals from eating them. Small animals would chew up the seeds instead of swallowing them whole, which is not what the plants needed. But mammoths weren’t bothered by the toxins and in fact probably couldn’t even taste the bitterness. They thought these wild squash were delicious and they ate a lot of them.

After the mammoth went extinct, the wild squash lost its main seed disperser. As forests grew thicker after mammoths weren’t around to keep the trees open, the squash also lost a lot of its preferred habitat. The main reason why we have pumpkins and summer squash is because of our ancient ancestors. They bred for squash that weren’t bitter, and they planted them and cared for the plants. So even though the main cause of the mammoth’s extinction was probably overhunting by ancient humans, at least we got pumpkin pies out of the whole situation. However, I personally would prefer to have both pumpkin pie and mammoths.

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 441: Mean Birds

Thanks to Maryjane and Siya for their suggestions this week!

Further reading:

Look, don’t touch: birds with dart frog poison in their feathers found in New Guinea

The hooded pitohui:

The rufous-naped bellbird:

The regent whistler:

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

This week we’re going to learn about some birds that by human standards seem pretty mean, although of course the birds are just being birds. Thanks to Maryjane and Siya for their suggestions this week!

We’ll start with Maryjane’s suggestion, the Northern shrike. It lives in North America, spending winter in parts of Canada and the northern United States. In summer it migrates to northern Canada. It’s a lovely gray and black bird with a dark eye streak, white markings on its tail and wings that flash when it flies, and a hooked bill. It’s a strong bird about the size of an American robin, and both the male and female sing. They will sometimes imitate other bird songs, and during breeding season a pair will sing duets. The Northern shrike looks very similar to the loggerhead shrike that lives farther south, in the southern parts of Canada and throughout most of the United States and Mexico.

Most important to us today, the Northern shrike is sometimes called the butcher bird, because in the olden days, butchers would hang meat up to cure–but we’ll get to that part.

It prefers to live in the edges of a forest near open spaces, and in the summer it lives along the border of the boreal forest and tundra. While it’s just a little songbird, in its heart it’s a falcon or hawk. It eats a lot of insects and other invertebrates, especially in summer, but it mainly kills and eats other songbirds and small mammals like mice and lemmings, even ones that are bigger and heavier than it is.

The shrike has ordinary feet for a perching bird, not talons, but its feet are strong and can hold onto struggling prey. Its beak is deadly to small animals. The bill has a sharp hook at the end and is notched so that it has two little projections that act like fangs. It will hover and drop onto its prey, or grab a bird in mid-flight and bear it to the ground to kill it. Sometimes it will hop along the ground until it startles a bird or insect into flying away. It will even flash the white patches on its wings to frighten hidden prey into moving.

If the shrike kills a wasp or bee, it will remove the stinger before eating it. It will pick off the wings of large insects and will sometime beat a dead insect against a rock or branch to soften it up and break off parts of the hard exoskeleton before eating it.

Shrikes are territorial and will chase away birds that are much bigger than them, like ducks and even geese. During nesting season, the female takes care of the eggs and the male provides food for her. To prove that he can provide lots of food for the female while she’s incubating the eggs, he will cache food throughout his territory in advance. This is something shrikes do anyway, but it’s especially important during nesting season.

If a shrike catches an animal it doesn’t want to eat right away, it will store it for later. It will cram it into a crack in a rock, impale it on a thorn or other sharp item like the points of a barbed wire fence, or wedge it into the fork of a tree branch. Then it can come back and eat it in a day or two when it’s hungry, or take the food to its mate.

When the eggs hatch, both parents help feed the babies. When the babies are old enough to leave the nest, the parents go their separate ways, but they will often each take some of the fledglings with them so they can continue to feed them and help them learn to hunt. Since a nest can have as many as nine babies, it’s not always possible for one parent to take all the babies. The siblings stick together even once they’re mostly grown and independent, often through their first winter.

This is what a Northern shrike sounds like:

[Northern shrike call]

We talked about some poisonous birds in episode 222, but Siya wanted to learn more about them. In that episode we mostly talked about the hooded pitohui, but since then, two more poisonous birds have been discovered in New Guinea.

Let’s refresh our memories about the hooded pitohui, mostly because its discovery by scientists is such a fun story.

The hooded pitohui lives in forests throughout much of New Guinea and eats seeds, insects and other invertebrates, and fruit. It’s related to orioles and looks very similar, with a dark orange body and black wings, head, and tail. It’s a social songbird that lives in family groups where everyone works to help raise the babies.

The people who live in New Guinea knew all about its toxicity, of course. They mentioned this to European naturalists as long ago as 1895, but weren’t believed, because the scientists had never heard of a toxic bird. It wasn’t until 1989 that a grad student studying birds of paradise made a surprising discovery.

Jack Dumbacher was trying to net some birds of paradise to study but kept catching pitohuis in his nets. He would untangle the birds and let them fly away, but naturally they were upset and one scratched him. He was in a hurry so he just licked the cuts clean. His tongue started to tingle, then burn, and then it went numb.

Fortunately the effects didn’t last long, but he mentioned it to another researcher who had had a similar experience. They realized something weird was going on, so Dumbacher asked some of the local people what the cause might be. They all said, “Yeah, don’t lick the pitohui bird.”

Dumbacher did, though, because sometimes scientists have to lick things. The next time his nets caught a pitohui, Dumbacher plucked one of its feathers and put it in his mouth. His mouth immediately started to burn.

Dumbacher was amazed to learn about a toxic bird, but it took a year for anyone else to take an interest, specifically Dr. John W. Daly, an expert in poison dart frogs in Central and South America. Back in the 1960s while he was studying the frogs, in order to determine which ones were actually toxic and which ones weren’t, he frequently poked a frog and licked his finger, so Daly completely understood Dumbacher putting a feather in his mouth.

Maybe don’t put random stuff in your mouth. Both Dumbacher and Daly were lucky they didn’t die, because it turns out that poison dart frogs and pitohuis both contain one of the deadliest neurotoxins in the world, called batrachotoxin.

A chemical analysis determined that both animals excrete the same toxin. In captivity, poison dart frogs lose their toxicity. Daly was the one who figured this out, but he couldn’t figure out why except that he was pretty sure they absorbed the toxins from something they were eating in the wild. He thought the same might be true for the pitohui.

Dumbacher agreed, and after he achieved his doctorate he started making expeditions to New Guinea to try to find out what. Both he and Daly thought it was probably an insect. But there are a lot of insects in Papua New Guinea and he couldn’t stay there and test insects for toxins all the time. He came and went as often as he could, and to make his trips easier he left his equipment in a village rather than hauling it back and forth with him.

What he didn’t know is that one villager, named Avit Wako, had gotten interested in the project. When Dumbacher was gone, he continued the experiments. In 1995 Dumbacher sent a student intern to the village, since he didn’t have time to go himself, and Avit Wako said, “Hey, good to see you! I solved your problem. The toxin comes from this particular kind of beetle.” He was right, too. The toxin comes from beetles in the genus Choresine.

But the pitohui isn’t the only toxic bird in New Guinea. In 2018 and 2019, two researchers from the University of Copenhagen in Denmark got interested in poisonous birds and did some studies. One of the scientists is Kasun Bodawatta, whose colleagues thought he was having a rough time during the trip. The life of a scientist in the field can be hard, and Bodawatta kept having issues with a runny nose and weepy eyes. It wasn’t allergies or exhaustion, though, but the result of handling poisonous birds and their feathers. He described it as feeling “like cutting onions, but with a nerve agent.”

Bodawatta’s team discovered that two more birds in New Guinea contain the same toxins as the pitohui in their feathers and skin. The rufous-naped bellbird is gray-brown with white and yellow markings, and a patch of rufous on the back of its head. The regent whistler is black and yellow with a white patch on its throat. Both eat insects as a large part of their diets, and both show similar genetic mutations that allow them to sequester the Choresine toxins in their feathers and skin. Not only does this keep potential predators from eating the birds, it also probably helps kill mites and other parasites that might otherwise want to live in their feathers.

A 2023 study on the birds’ toxins discovered something new. In addition to the neurotoxin the birds absorb from beetles, the regent whistler’s skin also contains a different toxin that doesn’t have anything to do with beetles or other insects. The regent whistler’s skin glands contain a population of symbiotic bacteria that secrete a completely different toxin made of previously unknown molecules. The toxin helps protect the birds from harmful bacteria and fungi that are known to infect the skin and feathers of birds.

In 2024, a team of microbiologists and chemists began studying the antimicrobial secretions in hopes of creating a new type of antimicrobial drug for use in humans and other animals. So thank you, little birds, and thank you to the scientists and citizen scientists who study them.

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 433: Flamingos and Two Weird Friends

Thanks to Ryder, Alexandria, and Simon for their suggestions this week! Let’s learn about three remarkable wading birds. Two of them are pink!

Bird sounds taken from the excellent website xeno-canto.

The goliath heron is as tall as people [picture by Steve Garvie from Dunfermline, Fife, Scotland – Goliath Heron (Ardea goliath), CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12223810]:

The roseate spoonbill has a bill shaped like a spoon, you may notice [picture by Photo Dante – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=42301356]:

Flamingos really do look like those lawn ornaments [picture by Valdiney Pimenta – Flamingos, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6233369]:

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

This week we’re going to learn about three large birds with long legs that spend a lot of time wading through shallow water, suggested by Ryder, Alexandria, and Simon.

Wading birds tend to share traits even if they’re not closely related, because of convergent evolution. In order to wade in water deep enough to find food, a wading bird needs long legs. Then it also needs a long neck so it can reach its food more easily. A long beak helps to grab small animals too. Having big feet with long toes also helps it keep its footing in soft mud.

Let’s start with Ryder’s suggestion, the goliath heron. It’s the biggest heron alive today, standing up to 5 feet tall, or 1.5 meters. That’s as tall as a person! It only weighs about 11 lbs at most, though, or 5 kg, but its wingspan is over 7 ½ feet across, or 2.3 meters. It’s a big, elegant bird with a mostly gray and brown body, but a chestnut brown head and neck with black and white streaks on its throat and chest.

The goliath heron lives throughout much of sub-Saharan Africa, meaning south of the Sahara Desert, anywhere it can find water. It’s happy on the edge of a lake or river, in a swamp or other wetlands, around the edges of a water hole, or even along the coast of the ocean. It usually stands very still in the water, looking down. When a fish swims close enough, the heron stabs it with its bill, pulls it out of the water, and either holds it for a while until the bird is ready to swallow the fish, or sometimes it will even set the fish down on land or floating vegetation for a while. It’s not usually in a big hurry to swallow its meal. Sometimes that means other birds steal the fish, especially eagles and pelicans, but the goliath heron is so big and its beak is so sharp that most of the time, other birds and animals leave it alone.

The goliath heron will also eat frogs, lizards, and other small animals when it can, but it prefers nice big fish. It can catch much bigger fish than other wading birds, and eating big fish is naturally more energy efficient than eating small ones. If a goliath heron only catches two big fish a day, it’s had enough to eat without having to expend a lot of energy hunting.

This is what a goliath heron sounds like:

[goliath heron call]

Alexandria’s suggestion, the roseate spoonbill, is also a big wading bird, but it’s very different from the goliath heron. For one thing, it’s pink and white and has a long bill that’s flattened and spoon-shaped at the end. It’s only about half the size of a goliath heron, with a wingspan over 4 feet across, or 1.3 meters, and a height of about 2 ½ feet, or 80 cm. That’s still a big bird! It mostly lives in South America east of the Andes mountain range, but it’s also found in coastal areas in Central America up through the most southern parts of North America.

Unlike the goliath heron, which is solitary, the roseate spoonbill is social and spends time in small flocks as it hunts for food. It likes shallow coastal water, swamps, and other wetlands where it can find it preferred food. That isn’t fish, although it will eat little fish like minnows when it catches them. It mainly eats crustaceans like crabs and crayfish, along with frogs, aquatic insects, and mollusks, and some seeds and other plant material. Since most of its food lives on the floor of the waterway or hidden in mud or water plants, the spoonbill usually can’t see its prey. It depends on the sensitive nerves in its bill to know the difference between, say, a crab and a crab-shaped rock. It walks through shallow water, sweeping its bill back and forth through the mud at the bottom, and grabs any little animal it can. Other birds like egrets will sometimes follow foraging spoonbills so they can catch any animals that the spoonbills miss.

Baby spoonbills are born with ordinary pointy bills, but as the chicks mature, the ends of their beaks flatten and become more and more spoon-shaped. If the goliath heron’s bill is like a pair of kitchen knives, the spoonbill’s beak is like a set of salad tongs that can scoop up lots of salad and dressing at once.

The roseate spoonbill gets its pink coloration from the food it eats. A lot of crustaceans contain carotenoid pigments, which the spoonbill absorbs and expresses in its feathers.

There are other spoonbills in the world, but the roseate spoonbill is the only one found in the Americas. The other five species live in Africa and Madagascar, Australia and New Zealand, and much of Europe and Asia. All the other species are white with black, yellow, or pink facial markings. Only the roseate spoonbill is all pink.

This is what the roseate spoonbill sounds like:

[roseate spoonbill call]

Simon’s suggestion is another pink bird that you’ve undoubtedly heard of, the flamingo! It lives in parts of South America, Central and southern North America, Africa, southern Europe and the Middle East, and southwest Asia. The two most well-known and widespread species are the greater and lesser flamingos. The greater flamingo is the biggest, standing over 4 ½ feet tall, or 1.4 meters. That’s still not as tall as the goliath heron, although it’s close. Its wingspan can be five feet across, or 1.5 meters.

The flamingo is kind of a weird bird, even by wading bird standards. It rests by standing on one leg, which it can do without falling over and without expending any energy to keep itself upright. It can even sleep while standing on one leg. People are really good at walking on long legs, but it’s a lot harder for us to stand on one leg without swaying and eventually falling over when our muscles tire. On the other hand, we weigh a lot more than a flamingo, which is barely over 7 ½ lbs in weight, or 3.5 kg.

The most unusual aspect of the flamingo is its beak. It’s thick and famously bent downward halfway along its length, so that it’s shaped sort of like a boomerang. There’s really no way to describe it as a type of kitchen implement unless it’s a strainer basket, because that’s how the flamingo uses its beak.

The flamingo eats tiny animals like brine shrimp and other small crustaceans, insect larvae, and even algae, and it catches all these tiny foods by sifting them from the water with its beak. The beak is lined with lamellae, which look like little hairs or the teeth of a comb, and its tongue is rough. It lowers its head on its long neck until its head is actually upside down, scoops its beak back and forth through the water, and uses its tongue to push the water out through the lamellae. Whatever algae or tiny animals are left in its mouth, it swallows.

Flamingos are extremely social and live in huge flocks, sometimes consisting of thousands of birds. The female only lays a single egg in her mud nest, and both parents take care of the baby by feeding it crop milk. This isn’t actually milk but is a nutritious substance produced by glands in the throat and crop. Emperor penguins, pigeons, and doves are the only other birds known that produce crop milk for their babies. Flamingo chicks have ordinary straight beaks that develop the bend as they grow older.

Like the roseate spoonbill, the flamingo’s pink coloration is due to its diet. The algae it eats contains a lot of carotenoids, as do the brine shrimp it eats. The American flamingo tends to be the pinkest overall, but all flamingos are pink if they’re eating enough foods that contain these carotenoids.

This is what an American flamingo flock sounds like:

[flamingo call]

There are lots more wading birds than the ones we’ve covered here, and not all of them have long legs and long necks. Just, you know, the best ones do.

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 426 Lots of Little Birds

Thanks to Murilo, Alexandra, and Joel for their suggestions this week!

The bird sounds in this episode come from xeno-canto, a great resource for lots of animal sounds!

A cactus wren [picture by Mike & Chris – Cactus WrenUploaded by snowmanradio, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15876953]:

The sultan tit [photo by By Dibyendu Ash – CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=72070998]:

A female scarlet tanager [photo by Félix Uribe, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=81340425]. The male is red with black wings:

The Northern cardinal:

The yellow grosbeak [photo by Arjan Haverkamp – originally posted to Flickr as 2008-08-23-15h00m37.IMG_4747l, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9596644]:

The purple martin isn’t actually purple [photo by JJ Cadiz, Cajay – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4255626]:

The dusky thrush [photo by Jerry Gunner from Lincoln, UK Uploaded by snowmanradio, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20762838]:

The European rose chafer, not a bird [photo by I, Chrumps, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2521547]:

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

This week we’re going to learn about a lot of little birds that deserve more attention, because they’re cute and interesting. Thanks to Murilo, Alexandra, and Joel for their little bird suggestions!

All the birds we’ll talk about today are called passerines, because they belong to the order Passeriformes. They’re also sometimes referred to as perching birds or songbirds, even though not all passerines sing. Passerines are common throughout the world, with more than 6,500 species identified. I’ve seen about 150 of those species, so clearly I need to work harder as a birdwatcher.

Passerines are referred to as perching birds because of their feet. A passerine bird has three toes that point forward and another toe pointing backwards, which allows it to wrap its toes securely around a twig or branch to sit. Its legs are also adapted so that the toes automatically curl up tight when the leg is bent. That’s why a sleeping bird doesn’t fall off its branch.

Let’s start with one of Murilo’s suggestions, the wren. Wrens are birds in the family Troglodytidae, and are usually very small with a short tail, a pointy bill that turns slightly downward at the tip, and brown plumage. It mainly eats insects and larvae that it finds in nooks and crannies of trees, and many species will investigate dark places like hollow logs, the openings to caves, or your apartment if you leave the back door open on a warm day. Many sing beautiful songs and have very loud voices for such little bitty birds.

Most wrens are native to the Americas, including the canyon wren that’s native to western North America in desert areas. It’s cinnamon-brown with a white throat and an especially long bill, which it uses to find insects in rock crevices. It lives in canyons and has a more flattened skull than other wrens, which means it can get its head into crevices without hurting itself. No one has ever seen a canyon wren drink water, and scientists think it probably gets all the water it needs from the insects it eats. Where do the insects get the water they need? That’s an episode for another day.

This is what a canyon wren sounds like:

[bird sound]

Not every bird that’s called a wren is actually in the family Troglodytidae. Some just resemble wrens, like an unusual bird that Murilo brought to my attention. It’s called Lyall’s wren but it’s actually in the family Acanthisittidae, and it was once widespread throughout New Zealand. By the time it was scientifically identified and described in 1894, it was restricted to a single island in Cook Strait.

Lyall’s wren was flightless, and only five passerines are flightless as far as we know. All five were island birds who have since gone extinct, which is unfortunately the case with Lyall’s wren too. It was greenish-brown with a yellow eye stripe and its tail was just a little short nub. We don’t know much about it because between 1894 when a lighthouse was built and some families moved to the island to work at the lighthouse, bringing their housecats, and 1925 when the feral cat colony on the island was finally killed off, all the remaining Lyall’s wrens were eaten by cats or killed by people to sell as museum specimens. To be clear, it’s entirely the fault of people that the bird went extinct, because they brought the cats to the island and let them run loose. The bird probably actually went extinct in 1895, just one year after cats were introduced to the island.

Murilo also suggested some little birds called chickadees and tits, which belong to the family Paridae. They’re very small, often brightly colored or with bright white markings, with short bills that help them crack seeds open. They also eat insects. They’re not found in South America or Australia, but they’re very common in North America, Eurasia, and most of sub-Saharan Africa. Many species love to visit bird feeders, and since they’re cute and active little birds, people are happy to have them around.

Some species in this family have crests, which makes them even cuter. The tufted titmouse, which is found in eastern North America, has a little tufted crest on its head, for instance. It’s a soft gray-blue in color with patches of rusty-red under its wings, and white underneath. The gray crested tit lives in western Europe and also has a fluffy crest on its head. It’s gray-brown with a thin black and white ring around its neck and a buff-colored underside. The yellow tit lives only in forests in central Taiwan and is a gorgeous dark blue with bright yellow underneath and on its face, with a darker crest. It’s so beautiful that it’s becoming rare, since people trap the birds to sell to disreputable collectors. The sultan tit is even more spectacular, if that’s possible, since the male is black with bright yellow underparts and a bright yellow crest. It lives in parts of south Asia and some subspecies have a black crest instead.

This is what a sultan tit sounds like:

[bird sound]

Another spectacular bird is one Alexandra suggested, the summer tanager. It’s a common summer visitor in the eastern and southwestern United States that winters in Central and northern South America. The male is a bright, cheerful red all over while the female is yellow. The western tanager is a close relation that lives in western North America, wintering in Mexico. The male has a mostly black back with a yellow rump and yellow underneath, with red and orange on his face. Females are yellowy-green and gray. The scarlet tanager is also similar, although the male is red with black wings and the female is yellowy-green and gray. They eat insects and fruit, and spend a lot of time in the very tops of trees.

This is what a scarlet tanager sounds like:

[bird sound]

Despite their names, all three of these tanagers aren’t actually tanagers. Tanagers are members of the family Thraupidae and are native to central and South America. Many of them are brightly colored and absolutely gorgeous, like the red-legged honeycreeper that’s common in Central and parts of South America. The male has a black back and tail and is bright blue on the rest of his body, except for a black mask over his eyes. His long curved bill is also black, but his legs are bright red. The female has red legs but she’s mostly greeny-yellow.

The North American tanagers are actually more closely related to the cardinal than to other tanagers, and are placed in the family Cardinalidae. The family is named after the northern cardinal, which is common throughout most of the United States and parts of Mexico. The male is bright red with black around his bill, while the female is more of a rosy brown color. Both have red bills and tufted crests. In North America, the cardinal appears on a lot of Christmas cards because its bright red plumage against a snowy background is so cheerful in winter.

This is what a northern cardinal sounds like:

[bird sound]

Alexandra also suggested the blue grosbeak, while Joel suggested the yellow grosbeak. Both are also members of the family Cardinalidae. The blue grosbeak lives in much of the United States in summer and spends the winter in Mexico and Central America. The male is blue with black and rufous markings and a silvery-gray beak, while the female is rufous-brown and gray. The yellow grosbeak lives along the Pacific slope of Mexico and may be the same as the golden grosbeak that lives in western South America, or a very close relation. Scientists aren’t sure yet. The male is a bright golden yellow with black and white wings and a black bill, while females are a less conspicuous green-yellow. The yellow grosbeak is larger than the blue but they’re both pretty big and robust. They eat insects and lots of other small animals like snails and spiders, along with fruit and seeds. Sometimes a yellow grosbeak will show up farther north, in the United States, and birdwatchers lose their minds with excitement.

This is what a yellow grosbeak sounds like:

[bird sound]

Joel also suggested the purple martin, a type of swallow that’s common throughout the Americas. It’s not purple but it is a dark blue-black color with iridescence that reflects light. This makes the bird look anywhere from dark purple to blue depending on the angle of the light. The male is much darker than the female, who is more gray-blue in color. It spends the summer in North America, raising babies and eating lots of insects, then migrates to South America to spend the winter.

This is what a purple martin sounds like:

[bird sound]

Another Joel suggestion is the dusky thrush, which is another passerine that migrates a long distance. It spends the summer in Siberia and nearby areas to nest, then flies south to spend the winter in southern China, Japan, India, Vietnam, Korea, and other nearby areas. It’s mostly brown on its back and white underneath with lots of speckles, and a light stripe over its eye. Males and females look very similar. It eats insects, spiders, worms, seeds, and berries and spends a lot of its time on the ground. Every so often a dusky thrush will get lost during migration and end up in western Europe or Alaska, and again, birdwatchers in those areas go nuts trying to catch a glimpse of it.

This is what a dusky thrush sounds like:

[bird sound]

Let’s finish this episode with another of Joel’s suggestions, the European rose chafer. You may be wondering what kind of bird this is, and that is exactly what I was wondering. It sounds very pretty! Then I looked it up, and it’s not a bird at all, it’s a type of beetle!

The rose chafer is a big metallic-green beetle related to scarabs that grows up to 20 mm long. It’s common in Europe and some parts of southeast Asia, and is often found on rose bushes in summer. It eats flowers, including the petals, nectar, and pollen, and really likes roses.

The female rose chafer lays her eggs in the ground and the larvae eat decaying vegetation. There’s also a related beetle called the rose chafer that lives in parts of North America, but it’s sort of a muddy tan color, and while it likes to eat roses and other flowers, it also likes to eat fruit like peaches and grapes. Its larvae eat roots and can damage plants.

Since the European rose chafer is such attractive beetle, with an iridescent bronze shimmer to its emerald-green carapace, you’d think people who grow roses would like to have them on their rose bushes, but this isn’t actually the case. I guess people who grow roses want to see the roses without them being all chewed up by beetles. To bring it back to birds, birds don’t eat the rose chafer because the beetle contains toxins that make it taste awful. But they’re still really pretty.

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 421: Australian Animals

Thanks to Nora, Holly, Stephen, and Aila for their suggestions this week!

Further reading:

How ‘bin chickens’ learnt to wash poisonous cane toads

Monkeys in Australia? Revisiting a Forgotten Furry Mystery Down Under

The Australian white ibis:

The greater glider looks like a toy:

The thorny devil is very pointy:

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

This week we’re going to talk about some animals native to Australia, which is Nora’s suggestion. We’ll learn about animals suggested by Holly, Stephen, and Aila, along with a mystery animal reported in the 1930s in northern Australia.

Australia isn’t currently connected to any other landmass and hasn’t been for about 50 million years. That means that most animals on the continent have been evolving separately for a very long time. While in other parts of the world placental mammals took over many ecological niches, marsupials are still the dominant mammal type in Australia. Most marsupial females give birth to tiny, helpless babies that then continue their development outside of her body, usually in a pouch.

But let’s start the episode not with a marsupial but with a bird. Stephen suggested the Australian white ibis, a beautiful bird that doesn’t deserve its nickname of bin chicken.

The white ibis is related to ibises from other parts of the world, but it’s native to Australia, and is especially common in eastern, northern, and southwestern Australia. It’s a large, social bird that likes to gather in flocks. Its body is mostly white with a short tail, long black legs, and a black head. Like other ibises, the adult bird’s head is bare of feathers. It also has a long, down-curved black bill that it uses to dig in the mud for crayfish and other small animals. When the bird spreads its magnificent black-tipped wings, it displays a stripe of featherless skin that’s bright red.

The Australian white ibis prefers marshy areas where it can eat as many frogs, crayfish, mussels, and other animals as it can catch. But at some point around 50 years ago, the birds started moving into more urban areas. They discovered that humans throw out a lot of perfectly good food, and before long they started to become a nuisance to people who had never encountered raccoons and didn’t know they should clamp those trash barrels closed really securely.

But no matter how annoying the Australian white ibis can be to people, it’s been really helpful in another way. In the 1930s, sugarcane plantation owners wanted to control beetles and other pests that eat sugarcane plants, so they released a bunch of cane toads in some of their fields in Queensland. But the cane toads didn’t do any good eating the beetles. Instead, they ate native animals and spread like wildfire. Since the toads are toxic, nothing could stop them, and there are now an estimated two billion cane toads living in Australia. But the Australian white ibis eventually figured out how to deal with cane toads.

The ibis will grab a cane toad, then whip it around and throw it into the air so that the toad secretes its toxins in hopes that the bird will leave it alone. Then the ibis will wash the toad in water or wipe it in wet grass, which washes away the toxins. Then the ibis eats the toad. Goodbye, toad!

Our next Australian animal is one suggested by Holly, the greater glider. When I saw the picture Holly sent, I was convinced it wasn’t a real animal but a toy plushie, but that’s just what the greater glider looks like. It’s incredibly cute!

The greater glider lives in eastern Australia, and as you might guess from its name, it is the largest of the three glider species found in Australia, and it can glide from tree to tree on flaps of skin between its front and back legs. Until 2020 scientists thought there was only one species of glider with local variations in size and coat color, but it turns out those differences are significant enough that it’s been split into three separate but closely related species.

The greater glider is nocturnal and only eats plant material, mostly from eucalyptus trees. It has a long fluffy tail, longer than the rest of its body is. Its tail can be as much as 21 inches long, or 53 cm, while its body and head together can measure as much as 17 inches long, or 43 cm. It has dense, plush fur, a small head with big round ears, black eyes, and a little pinkish nose, and it superficially looks like a big flying squirrel. But the greater glider isn’t a rodent. It’s a marsupial, closely related to the ringtail possum. Some individuals have dark gray or black fur and some have lighter gray or brown fur, but all greater gliders have cream-colored fur on their tummies.

The greater glider’s gliding membranes, also called patagia, are connected at what we can refer to as their elbows and ankles. It uses its long tail as a rudder and it’s very good at gliding from tree to tree. It almost never comes down to the ground if it can avoid it. When it glides, it folds its front legs so its little fists are under its chin and its elbows are stuck out, which stretches the membranes taut.

Aila suggested we learn more about the thorny devil, an Australian reptile we talked about way back in episode 97. It’s a spiky lizard that grows to around 8 inches long, or 20 cm. In warm weather its blotchy brown and yellow coloring is paler than in colder weather, when it turns darker. It can also turn orangey, reddish, or gray to blend in to the background soil. Its color changes slowly over the course of the day as the temperature changes. It also tends to turn darker if something threatens it.

It has a thick spiny tail that it usually holds curved upward, which makes it look kind of like a stick. It moves slowly and jerkily, rocking back and forth on its legs, then surging forward a couple of steps. Researchers think this may confuse predators. It certainly looks confusing.

As if that wasn’t enough, the thorny devil has a false head on the back of its neck. It’s basically a big bump with two spikes sticking out of its sides. When something threatens the lizard, it ducks its head between its forelegs, which makes the bump on its neck look like a little head. But all its spines make it a painful mouthful for a predator. If something does try to swallow it, the thorny devil can puff itself up to make it even harder to swallow, like many toads do. It does this by inflating its chest with air.

The thorny devil eats ants, specifically various species of tiny black ants found only in Australia. It has a sticky tongue to lick them up. This is very similar to the horned lizard of North America, also called the horny toad even though it’s not a toad, which we talked about most recently in episode 376. But despite their similarities in looks, behavior, and diet, the horned lizard and the thorny devil aren’t closely related. It’s just yet another example of convergent evolution.

Now, let’s finish with a strange report from the 1930s about a colony of hundreds, if not thousands, of monkeys in Australia. Australia doesn’t have very many native placental mammals, and no monkeys. But several Australian newspapers reported in 1932 that a party of gold prospectors encountered the monkeys in northern Australia, specifically Cape York Peninsula. The monkeys were reportedly gathered in one area to eat a huge crop of red nuts, and they appeared to be large monkeys that weighed up to 30 lbs, or 13 kg. Another gold prospector said in follow-up articles that he too had seen the monkeys and even shot a few of them, although he hadn’t saved any part of the bodies.

Newspaper hoaxes were pretty common back in the day, but by the 1930s things had mostly settled down and papers were more interested in imparting actual news instead of making it up. Cape York Peninsula was quite remote at the time, with rivers, rainforests, and savannas where a lot of animals unknown to science probably still live. But not monkeys!

One thing to remember is that at the end of the 19th century, it was a fad to release animals from one area into another. That’s how the European starling was introduced to North America, where it has become incredibly invasive. In the early 1890s, a group of people released a hundred starlings into New York City’s Central Park, because they wanted all the birds mentioned in Shakespeare’s writings to be present in the United States. This fad included Australia, where colonizers tried to release all sorts of animals. Most of the animals didn’t survive long, and we don’t have any records of monkeys being released, but it’s possible that someone just did it for fun and didn’t tell anyone.

Another suggestion is that the prospectors saw tree kangaroos and thought they were monkeys, even though tree kangaroos don’t actually look like monkeys. They look like little kangaroos that live in trees, not to mention they’re mostly nocturnal. Besides, the local Aboriginal people reportedly told the prospectors about the monkeys, and they would have identified tree kangaroos easily if that’s what they were. No other native Australian animal known to live in the area resembles a monkey either.

Zoologist Karl Shuker suggests the monkeys might have been macaques native to New Guinea. New Guinea isn’t all that far away from Australia, and macaques were often kept as pets too. It would have been pretty easy for someone to buy a bunch of macaques, import them on a ship, and release them into the wilderness. Or the macaques might have gotten there on their own, rafting to Australia on fallen trees washed out to sea during storms.

If there really were monkeys in Australia 90 years ago, of course, the big question is: are they still there?

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!

Episode 417: The Hoatzin

I’m a bit under the weather this week, so here’s a Patreon episode about a weird bird!

Further reading:

Hoatzin nestling locomotion: acquisition of quadrupedal limb coordination in birds

Show transcript:

Welcome to the Patreon bonus episode of Strange Animals Podcast for mid-November, 2019!

We’re going to learn about a mystery bird today. When I say mystery bird, I don’t mean that people aren’t sure if it exists. It definitely exists. You can go to South America and look at it if you like, because fortunately it’s not rare or endangered. But scientists aren’t completely sure what it’s related to, because it’s a really weird bird.

The hoatzin [pronounced what-seen] is a large bird, over two feet long, or 65 cm. It’s shaped sort of like a pheasant, with a chunky body, long neck and small head, and a long tail made of stiff feathers like a hawk’s. Its face has no feathers and blue skin, it has red eyes, and it has a spiky feather crest on its head. It’s black and chestnut brown with some darker and lighter streaks, and is a softer brown underneath. It’s a really pretty bird, in fact, with a strong bill. But it really doesn’t resemble any other bird alive today.

The hoatzin is the only species in its genus, and the only genus in its family, and the only family in its order. It’s basically not really related to any other bird alive today, although in 2012 its genome was sequenced and found to be most closely related to cranes and plovers—but only very distantly. In fact, a 2015 study determined that the hoatzin started evolving separately from other birds 65 million years ago, right after the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction event that killed off the non-avian dinosaurs.

We only have a few fossils of hoatzin ancestors, but they show that it was much more widespread in the past and lived in what is now North America and Europe. But these days it only survives in northern and central South America. It likes swampy areas and forests near rivers or other water.

The hoatzin eats plants—specifically leaves and buds, although it also eats some flowers and fruit. And leaves require a lot of digesting before the body can make use of the nutrients. The hoatzin’s digestive system is unlike any other living bird’s, because the hoatzin is a foregut fermenter. Its crop, which most birds only use to store extra food temporarily when the stomach is full, acts as a bacterial fermentation chamber—two chambers, in fact, since it’s divided into two sections. This acts like the rumen of a cow. Its crop is so big it doesn’t have room on its body for big flight muscles, so it’s not a strong flyer. It mostly stays in trees and bushes, eating leaves, flapping its big wings for balance and display, and hanging out with other hoatzins.

The hoatzin’s digestive system has a weird side effect. It smells bad. It’s supposed to smell like manure. It’s sometimes called the stinkbird and, fortunately for the hoatzin, almost no one wants to eat it as a result.

As you probably know, birds developed from dinosaurs. It’s easy to forget that, since birds have evolved structures like toothless beaks and front legs modified for flight and they no longer have lizard-like tails. But the hoatzin retains something from its dinosaur ancestry that is a startling reminder.

The hoatzin is a social bird that lives in small flocks. It breeds during the local rainy season and builds its nest over water when the forest floods due to rain. The female lays two or three eggs, and when the babies hatch, they can climb around in the branches near the nest right away. This means they can hide from predators instead of being helpless in the nest. And the reason a hoatzin chick can climb so well is partly because it has big feet, and partly because it has finger claws on its wings: specifically a thumb claw and one finger claw, which are fully functional and make it look a lot like a fuzzy baby dinosaur.

Not only does the baby hoatzin use these claws for climbing, a study published in May 2019 shows that the baby hoatzin uses its wings differently when climbing than it does as an adult bird. Obviously, birds fly by flapping both wings at the same time. But the baby hoatzin climbs by using its limbs in an alternating motion. You know, the way you would climb a tree. Or the way a small dinosaur would climb a tree.

But primitive and dinosaur-like as this trait is, researchers have discovered that it developed relatively recently. That is, as the hoatzin’s distant ancestors evolved from a small dinosaur into a primitive bird, it lost the claws on its front legs as they became more and more modified into wings. But at some point, the hoatzin re-developed those claws. Researchers think it’s what is called an atavistic trait, which you may remember from way back in the Patreon episode where we talked about horses with extra toes. In other words, the genes to grow claws on the front limbs are still present in birds, but are suppressed by other genes, since claws just get in the way when you’re flying. But occasionally a small mutation causes the claws to grow anyway, and in the case of the hoatzin, it proved so useful that those babies with claws survived better than those without claws, and therefore lived to pass on their genes. But the claws are no longer useful once the babies grow up and learn how to fly, so they lose them as adults.

Hoatzin chicks climb using alternating motions of the wings, but swim by moving both wings together. Oh, didn’t I mention that the babies swim? They have to, because sometimes a predator attacks and they have to get away fast. They can’t fly yet, and they can’t climb all that quickly, so they drop out of the branches and fall into the water below. That’s why the parent birds build the nests over water. The babies can swim just fine, and they swim to safety and climb back up into the branches where their parents can find them.

The hoatzin isn’t the only bird that has wing claws as a baby. Some species of turaco do too. The turaco lives in Africa and shares many traits with the hoatzin, so for a long time people thought the two were related. But now we know they’re not and that the similarities are due to convergent evolution.

Thanks for your support, and thanks for listening!

Episode 415: Animals with Names

This week we’re going to learn about some animals that seem to have individual names!

Further reading:

Bottlenose dolphins can use learned vocal labels to address each other

How Do Dolphins Choose Their Name?

Vertical transmission of learned signatures in a wild parrot

Baby Parrots Learn Their Names from Their Parents

Study: African Elephants Address Each Other With Name-Like Calls

Marmoset Monkeys Use Names to Communicate with Each Other

The green-rumped parrotlet (photo by Rick Robinson, taken from this site):

Show transcript:

Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I’m your host, Kate Shaw.

This week we’re going to learn about some animals that seem to be using names to refer to other individuals or themselves.

Let’s start with bottlenose dolphins, because they’re well-studied and scientists have known about this particular aspect of their society for over a decade. Every bottlenose dolphin has a signature whistle that identifies it to other dolphins. The signature whistles can be complex and the dolphin may add or change details to indicate its mood or other information. It’s not precisely a name in the way humans would think of it, but it is an identifier.

The dolphin creates its own signature whistle when it’s young. Some dolphins pattern their whistles on their mother’s signature whistle, while others mimic their siblings or friends. Some seem to pattern theirs on a distant acquaintance, which sounds to me like they just like something about an unusual whistle and decide to incorporate it into their own whistle. As dolphins grow up, females typically don’t change their whistles, but males often do. Male dolphins often pair up together and remain bonded, and a pair may change their signature whistles to be similar.

When a dolphin is trying to find a friend it can’t see, it will mimic that friend’s signature whistle. If a mother can’t see her calf and is worried, she’ll do the same, and her calf will answer by repeating its signature whistle. A lost calf will imitate its mother’s whistle. But it’s even more complicated than it sounds, because a group of dolphins who get together to forage may choose a shared whistle that the whole group uses. This helps them coordinate their behaviors to work together. Each member of the group uses a slightly different version of the group whistle, which means that each member can identify who’s speaking.

Other cetaceans seem to use a similar kind of name. Sperm whales, for instance, have a unique click sequence that they use to announce themselves when approaching other whales. The signature clicks always appear at the beginning of a sequence and don’t vary.

Bottlenose dolphins and many other cetaceans are extremely social animals. So are parrots. Studies of parrot calls indicate that parrots appear to have signature calls that they use the same way as dolphins do, to identify themselves to other parrots and as a way for other parrots to call for them. A study of wild green-rumped parrotlets in Venezuela discovered that the birds give a unique signature call to each baby while it’s still in the nest, and the baby continues to use its call its whole life, often with small changes.

The study set up video cameras to monitor 16 nests of a large wild population of the parrots. The population has been well studied and is used to using nesting tubes that scientists have set up for them. This makes it easier for the scientists to monitor nesting behaviors. In this case, to test whether the names had something to do with genetics or not, the scientists sneakily moved half of the eggs from one nest to another, so that half the parents unknowingly raised some chicks that weren’t actually related to them.

Despite the egg switcharoo, all the chicks were given names that were similar to the parents’ signature calls. The parents started using a specific signature call soon after the eggs hatched, and the babies started imitating it. Gradually each baby added its own specific flourish to the call that made it their own, so while you can say that the parents named their babies, it’s just as true to say that the babies named themselves. The parrots use the signature calls to announce themselves, but also to call for friends, siblings, and parents.

Elephants are also extremely social animals. Recent studies of African savanna elephant calls indicate that elephants also have an identifying rumble sound that acts as a name. In fact, it acts more like a name as humans use names than the signature sounds made by dolphins and parrots. An elephant will use a specific rumble when addressing another elephant, but the rumble isn’t the speaker’s name, it’s the recipient’s name. It’s the difference between me saying, “Hi, I’m Kate. How are you?” and me saying, “Hi, Kelly, how are you?” when I’m talking to my friend Kelly. Dolphins and parrots seem to be saying something like, “Kate here, I’m swimming this way.”

Marmosets seem to use names the same way that elephants do. Marmosets are a type of small monkey native to Central and South America, which live in treetops and eat fruit and other plant material, and the occasional insect. A 2024 study found that marmosets that know each other address individuals with specific sounds, whether or not they’re related.

All the animals we’ve talked about today are incredibly social, just like humans are. In the case of dolphins, parrots, and marmosets in particular, it’s easy for individuals to travel and forage together but be out of sight of one other. Having a way to track friends and family members when you can’t see them is important to keep a group together.

Studies about animals using names are becoming more common, with both the marmoset study and the elephant study published in 2024. It may not seem like a big deal, but using a specific vocal label for a specific individual is a huge indicator of linguistic intelligence. We haven’t known a lot about it before recently because the recordings of animals communicating was time-consuming and difficult to categorize. Now we have sophisticated computer programs that can compile the information for us, so that scientists can study it more easily. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if more and more studies start finding animals that use names.

You can find Strange Animals Podcast at strangeanimalspodcast.blubrry.net. That’s blueberry without any E’s. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, email us at strangeanimalspodcast@gmail.com. We also have a Patreon at patreon.com/strangeanimalspodcast if you’d like to support us for as little as one dollar a month and get monthly bonus episodes.

Thanks for listening!