If I could talk with the animals ...

[The Lone Ranger]

Yesterday evening, as I headed out from the school, I noticed a large, fat toad sitting in the parking lot. I like amphibians in general, but there's something appealing about toads. Maybe it's those big, googly eyes, and their placid demeanors. (Okay, I like all animals -- but you know what I mean.)

Having no immediately pressing business, I squatted down for awhile to watch the toad. It sat there and did what toads spend most of their time doing -- sitting perfectly immobile. Fascinating as this behavior was to observe, the thrill of it did eventually wear off, and so I decided to be on my way.

I didn't wish to leave the toad sitting in the middle of the parking lot, on the off chance that someone might drive into the lot and run over the poor critter, so I thought it would be best to relocate it to someplace safer. I picked up the toad, which made no protest and no effort to escape. Nonetheless, to sooth it, I softly said, "Don't worry; this is for your own good; it isn't safe here."

Now why do people do such daft things? I know, better than most, that the sounds I was making were of no meaning whatsoever to the toad. If it'd been a cat or a dog, bred for generations to associate with humans, that'd be one thing; it might have at least understood from the tone of my voice that I was trying to sooth it. But a toad certainly would not have understood that.

The biologist E. O. Wilson has speculated that humans have a "Biophilia" instinct. That is, he has suggested that humans have an innate tendency to bond with and relate to other species -- and that we "instinctively" feel uncomfortable in any environment where there aren't any plants or animals around us. He has suggested that this is one reason why people tend to love their lawns, why they buy houseplants, and why they insist on having pets.

Maybe so. Regardless, I still find it amusing that I feel the need to try to comfort an animal that I know full well can't understand what I'm doing or the significance of the sounds I make while doing it.

***

I found that I couldn't sleep later in the night, so at about 4:30 a.m. I gave it up and decided to go for a walk.

Crickets were chirping away. From the rate at which they were chirping, the air temperature was about 60 degrees F. Up in the trees, katydids were calling (http://naturebits.org/NonAvian/mp3/Katydid.mp3).

As I walked down into the field behind the apartment, a White-Tailed Deer snorted (http://naturebits.org/NonAvian/mp3/DeerWhiteTailedSnort.mp3) in alarm, and in the moonlight I saw a doe and her two fawns bound away into the nearby woods. At the bottom of the hill, Green Frogs were "gunking (http://animaldiversity.ummz.umich.edu/site/resources/alan_wolf/rana_clamitansm.mp3)" away like mad. Again, I know it's silly, but there's something about the calling of Green Frogs that always sounds cheerful to me somehow.

Overhead, Cassiopea shone brightly in the northern sky and I followed her to Polaris, the "North Star." Ursa Major wasn't visible though, as it was obscured by some clouds near the horizon. Almost directly overhead, the "Great Square" of Pegasus was easily visible. Further to the south, Orion the Hunter glittered, and he trailed after the Pleides in the shoulder of Taurus, the Bull.

I continued on down a stretch of unpaved road and to a wooded area. After wandering for awhile, I decided to head back. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten with the coming dawn. Shortly after I started back, I heard, ever so faintly, a sound I hadn't heard in 5 years. I froze and listened intently, hoping that my ears hadn't been deceiving me, but then I heard it again. Down in the woods somewhere, an Eastern Screech Owl was calling (http://fsc.fernbank.edu/Birding/bird_sounds/eastern_screech.mp3). They're absolutely my favorite birds, and I was simply delighted to hear one calling.

Years ago, I used to work as a Naturalist at a Girl Scout Camp. One of my favorite tricks was to call in owls. Diligent practice has given me the ability to mimic the calls of most of the common owl species; I can do a bang-on imitation of an Eastern Screech Owl, a Barred Owl (http://www.owlpages.com/sounds/Strix-varia-1.mp3), a Long-Eared Owl (http://www.owlpages.com/sounds/Asio-otus-1.mp3), a Short-Eared Owl (http://www.owlpages.com/sounds/Asio-flammeus-1.mp3) or a Great Horned Owl (http://www.owlpages.com/sounds/Bubo-virginianus-1.mp3). (No mere human can convincingly imitate the unearthly shriek of a Barn Owl (http://www.owlpages.com/sounds/Tyto-alba-3.mp3) however, I'm convinced.)

I'd take a bunch of kids down to the Camp Late after dark and call to the owls. Often, I could get one to call back. Sometimes, if the kids were really quiet, I could get an owl to fly right up to us to investigate this "intruder" in its territory. The kids just loved it when I could get an owl to come to us.


Anyway, I called to the screech owl, hoping it would call back or better yet, come closer to investigate. Maybe I'd get lucky and catch a glimpse of it. No such luck, alas. The owl stopped calling soon after I started, and if it came closer to investigate me, I never saw it.

After a time, I gave up and headed back home. Just as I was reaching my apartment, a second screech owl began calling from a copse of trees just behind the apartment. I called to this one too, but I had no better luck in eliciting a response or in convincing it to come close-enough for me to see it.

Still, hearing not one but two screech owls really made my morning.


Edward Abbey once wrote that it's a mistake to take a flashlight with you when you go out for a nature walk at night. You'll experience more with your ears and your dark-adapted eyes than you will by shining a flashlight all around you. I'm inclined to agree.

Cheers,

Michael

[JoeP]

Michael, I don't really want to answer your post at all, because it's just perfect in itself.

But then I thought: maybe when you were talking to the toad you weren't so much trying to communicate with it (reassure it) as vocalising your own thought processes. It's important for you to know that you were moving it for a reason you were comfortable with, and saying it affirms that.

[S.Vashti]

Because much of the fauna I meet are smaller than me, my greeting is, when given, "Hello, little one." There are times when it's obvious that I'm greeting an entity that is focused on me, and times when I'm just part of the landscape. The baby skunk that clambered, sniffing, over my tennis shoes, was unlikely considering it was climbing over another animal. Crows, for example, never think humans are part of the landscape. Toads might. Mantis shrimp are uncanny (to me) in that they appear to follow face vs body movements, but it's hard to believe they contemplate me as anything other than an animal to be wary of.

I think there's probably something hardwired into vertebrate behavior that can locate and recognize other vertebrates, especially the face of other animals. I think I've seen this in animals as diverse as triggerfish and cats, which is why I think facial recognition is bound up in genetic memory. Whether this exists in invertebrates I have yet to settle to my satisfaction

I don't need to speculate on biophilia, though, because for me, I'm pretty sure it's only faunaphilia. I don't trust plants very much at all, and suspect they are out to poison me. Except the ones that provide fruit, and those I think are trying to use me.

[The Lone Ranger]

But then I thought: maybe when you were talking to the toad you weren't so much trying to communicate with it (reassure it) as vocalising your own thought processes. It's important for you to know that you were moving it for a reason you were comfortable with, and saying it affirms that.
That may well be part of it. Interestingly though, I'm not one who speaks to myself, ever. Not aloud, anyway.



I think there's probably something hardwired into vertebrate behavior that can locate and recognize other vertebrates, especially the face of other animals. I think I've seen this in animals as diverse as triggerfish and cats, which is why I think facial recognition is bound up in genetic memory. Whether this exists in invertebrates I have yet to settle to my satisfaction

Probably not the face, per se, but the eyes -- almost certainly. In fact, given that other animals tend to pay such close attention to eyes, you probably wouldn't be surprised to know that lots of animals use fake eyes to divert other animals' attentions.

For example lots of butterflies, moths, and fishes have "eye spots" that, as the name implies, are colored to closely resemble eyes. In some species (notably, many moth species), the eye spots are kept covered until the animal is threatened by a potential predator. At that moment, the moth suddenly flares the "eye spots"; this usually has the effect of startling the would-be predator, which may think that it has somehow just come face-to-face with a larger creature. Many fishes have eye spots on their fins, which draw attacks away from more vulnerable areas of the body (one reason would-be predators tend to track the eyes of their prey is that they aim for the prey animal's most vulnerable spot -- its head).

It has been suggested that one of the reasons why so many frogs and toads have very oddly-patterned irises is that this tends to break up the outlines of their eyes, making it harder for either predators or prey to see and recognize the frogs' most conspicuous features, their eyes.

Experiments with human infants have shown that they clearly distinguish between living and non-living objects (even if those objects are animate, such as wind-up toys). So, apparently humans are born knowing that some things are alive and expect them to behave differently from non-living things. It would be surprising indeed if Homo sapiens was the only species for which this is true.


As far as faces go, by the way, there is abundant evidence that humans have an inborn "face-recognition" mechanism. Interestingly, certain forms of brain damage can render a person perfectly functional in (apparently) every other way, but unable to recognize faces.

Cheers,

Michael

[Dingfod]

Dr. Doo-a-lot!

[S.Vashti]

But then I thought: maybe when you were talking to the toad you weren't so much trying to communicate with it (reassure it) as vocalising your own thought processes. It's important for you to know that you were moving it for a reason you were comfortable with, and saying it affirms that.
That may well be part of it. Interestingly though, I'm not one who speaks to myself, ever. Not aloud, anyway.



I think there's probably something hardwired into vertebrate behavior that can locate and recognize other vertebrates, especially the face of other animals. I think I've seen this in animals as diverse as triggerfish and cats, which is why I think facial recognition is bound up in genetic memory. Whether this exists in invertebrates I have yet to settle to my satisfaction

Probably not the face, per se, but the eyes -- almost certainly. In fact, given that other animals tend to pay such close attention to eyes, you probably wouldn't be surprised to know that lots of animals use fake eyes to divert other animals' attentions. Could just be eyes, yes, I've watched a feral cat appear not to see me (in plain view, but very still) until it happened to glance at my face and catch my eyes. It near jumped out of its skin in alarm. On the other hand, I think dogs and chimps may be able to see faces enough to distinguish individuals and emotions on them.

For example lots of butterflies, moths, and fishes have "eye spots" that, as the name implies, are colored to closely resemble eyes. In some species (notably, many moth species), the eye spots are kept covered until the animal is threatened by a potential predator. At that moment, the moth suddenly flares the "eye spots"; this usually has the effect of startling the would-be predator, which may think that it has somehow just come face-to-face with a larger creature. Many fishes have eye spots on their fins, which draw attacks away from more vulnerable areas of the body (one reason would-be predators tend to track the eyes of their prey is that they aim for the prey animal's most vulnerable spot -- its head).

I'm going to have to disagree with you about eyespots on fish tails and fins, because I've watched far more than my fair share of fish fights, and it's pretty obvious that fish, while displaying head to tail, will, before they bite, turn around and aim at the head. The eyespots may well be a display, but the don't draw attacks away from vulnerable areas, at least not in fights with conspecifics. I used to raise a number of cichlids, and watch lots of reef fish in Hawaii, and I don't recall any fight where displaying was used, where the attacker lunged for the eyespot and not the head or forward part of the other fish. I've raised hundreds of bettas, and they too display tail to head, though they don't have eyespots. And they too tend to turn and attack the head of the other fish in a fight. Eyespots may be defensive, not offensive. Or a signal of size or health. But I think it's unlikely to "fool" a conspecific in a fight.

It has been suggested that one of the reasons why so many frogs and toads have very oddly-patterned irises is that this tends to break up the outlines of their eyes, making it harder for either predators or prey to see and recognize the frogs' most conspicuous features, their eyes.

Experiments with human infants have shown that they clearly distinguish between living and non-living objects (even if those objects are animate, such as wind-up toys). So, apparently humans are born knowing that some things are alive and expect them to behave differently from non-living things. It would be surprising indeed if Homo sapiens was the only species for which this is true.


As far as faces go, by the way, there is abundant evidence that humans have an inborn "face-recognition" mechanism. Interestingly, certain forms of brain damage can render a person perfectly functional in (apparently) every other way, but unable to recognize faces.

Cheers,

Michael

For all the times I've had to stop and watch something to determine if it's alive or not, I wonder if my attribute is broken somehow.

[S.Vashti]

Dr. Doo-a-lot!

I see your avatar, and it reminds me of illustrations I've seen that explain the various facial expressions of chimpanzees.

[The Lone Ranger]

I'm going to have to disagree with you about eyespots on fish tails and fins, because I've watched far more than my fair share of fish fights, and it's pretty obvious that fish, while displaying head to tail, will, before they bite, turn around and aim at the head. The eyespots may well be a display, but the don't draw attacks away from vulnerable areas, at least not in fights with conspecifics. I used to raise a number of cichlids, and watch lots of reef fish in Hawaii, and I don't recall any fight where displaying was used, where the attacker lunged for the eyespot and not the head or forward part of the other fish. I've raised hundreds of bettas, and they too display tail to head, though they don't have eyespots. And they too tend to turn and attack the head of the other fish in a fight. Eyespots may be defensive, not offensive. Or a signal of size or health. But I think it's unlikely to "fool" a conspecific in a fight.


That's why I was careful to mention that eye spots on the fins tend to lure predators into attacking the wrong part of the body. They're of no use against conspecifics. But I was probably unclear.

Cheers,

Michael

[S.Vashti]

That's why I was careful to mention that eye spots on the fins tend to lure predators into attacking the wrong part of the body. They're of no use against conspecifics. But I was probably unclear.

Cheers,

Michael

Yes, you're right. I'm just recalling and probably reacting to all the articles I read about how eyespots are fooling predators and agonistic behavior is supposed to lure attacks against less delicate body parts, and I tend to disagree with that belief, fish on fish, anyway. If we do have built-in methods to determine whether we are looking at an eye or not-even in other species, I don't really see how it could possibly fool one fish looking at another fish into thinking it's an eye. Besides, I know a trigger fish can figure out where my eyes are at (having been attacked by one), I'm pretty sure they would have an even easier time determining eyes on other fish.