Showing posts with label artiodactyls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label artiodactyls. Show all posts

Sunday, 20 August 2023

Love on the Mountain Tops

Caprines - members of the goat subfamily - are amongst the mammals most adapted to harsh environments, with the majority of species adapted to living in the cold, barren, and precipitous slopes of mountains. There are some exceptions; sheep (which are taxonomically a subtype of "goat") originally evolved to live in barren rocky hills rather than on true mountains, while some of the East Asian species inhabit forested slopes. 

There are, as with many animal groups, more species of caprine than one might at first think, and I covered them all individually about ten years ago. Looking through that series, it should be possible to appreciate that the group is also varied, not only inhabiting a range of environments but also living varied lifestyles, from those that are near-solitary to those that prefer large herds. This is also reflected in their mating habits which, are as one might expect, related to the size of the community in which they live. One would also expect that the habitat would have some effect on how the animals choose to live, and, in turn, on that mating behaviour.

Sunday, 25 June 2023

Pennsylvania Elk with a Wyoming Accent

We're familiar enough with the idea that humans in different parts of the world speak with different accents and vocabulary, even if they are otherwise speaking the same language. ("Faucet, railroad, trashcan, truck, don't say 'sidewalk' or you suck.") This is true of all languages that are spread over a sufficiently large geographic area; for instance, European and Brazilian Portuguese are at least as different as UK and US English. Even within a single national dialect, we can often distinguish local accents and some differences in spoken grammar and terminology - few native English speakers could confuse a blue-collar Texan with a New Yorker.

Since animals don't have language in the human sense, we might not expect the same thing to be true of them. Animals have distinct vocal repertoires, but these are largely instinctive, and a cat goes 'miaow' regardless of where it lives. (Well, arguably it goes 'meow' if it's American and 'nyan' if it's Japanese, but you get the point). It's perhaps not surprising that there is variation between individual songbirds of the same species, or among cetaceans, given the complexity of their calls, but we might not think of it among terrestrial mammals.

Sunday, 20 November 2022

The Importance of Blue Bullshit

Monkeys and apes in general, and humans in particular, have a relatively poor sense of smell but the same is far from true of most other mammal species. For such animals, scent can be an important method of communication and this is often done through scent-marking, leaving long-term messages that can be understood by other passing members of your species.

A common way to do this is by rubbing specially adapted scent glands onto objects - these glands are often on the feet or the sides of face, which is why many animals will rub their heads against things to mark their territory. An alternative is to either urinate or defecate in a particular location, the natural aroma of the excreta often being aided by anal scent glands. We are all familiar with a dog's need to mark its territory in this way and it's hardly alone in this respect.

This can provide all sorts of useful information to other animals from the same species, such as territorial ownership, social dominance, willingness to mate, and so forth. When the method used to deposit this information is defecation rather than urinating, the result is termed a latrine or midden - which, in the biological sense, are basically alternative words for "dungheap". Animals that use this method of scent-marking include rhinoceroses, lemurs, and antelopes. (And we can but wonder what human cities would be like had we evolved from a species that communicated in this way).

Sunday, 18 September 2022

The Hybrid History of North American Deer

There are five species of deer native to the US and Canada. Two of these, the moose and the caribou, are distinctive animals with no especially close living relatives. The elk, while perhaps not as distinctive in appearance as these two, is even more distant from the others in evolutionary terms. The other two, however, are the white-tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus) and the mule deer (Odocoileus hemionus) which not only look similar to one another but are, indeed, each other's closest relatives.

When I discussed these two species in detail last year, I mentioned the existence of the "black-tailed deer" a subgroup of mule deer with tails of a more solidly black colour than others of their kind. The black-tailed deer are native to the Pacific Northwest and are generally considered to consist of two subspecies of mule deer that share a common ancestor that split off from other mule deer early on. Since are subspecies, not full species, it should come as no surprise to discover that they hybridise with other mule deer where the two come into contact, although, if anything, this happens more often than we might expect.