Chris Clarke callously infected me with a meme. I’m supposed to answer these five questions.
An interesting animal I had
An interesting animal I ate
An interesting animal in the Museum
An interesting thing I did with or to an animal
An interesting animal in its natural habitat
My first thought was, “Dude! These are awfully personal questions. Why are you asking for these intimate details of my sex life?” But then I noticed that he brought up my little friend Snowball (you may not want to read that), and all of his stories were about non-human animals. Oh. Never mind. That’s completely different.
Or maybe not so different…
They would bring them to me, one at a time, and I would hold her close. She would quiver a little, and sometimes even struggle wildly, but I would reach out my hand to her smooth, slick flank and stroke gently, then more firmly. She would be wet and slippery, and would respond to a strong grip as I held her across my knees and stroked her belly, down towards that private, secret place, and then with a tremble, she would spill, and the beautiful fluids and golden treasure would tumble into the bucket. And then there’d be another beauty, and another, and another, all giving up to me. Finally, a slender, muscular male, who’d also respond to my attentions and spurt his milky stream into the bucket…and then I’d reach in with my hand, give the lovely eggs and milt a stir, and carry them into the hatchery.
Another time, hiking in the hills, I came across a shallow, gravelly stretch of the river, and there they all were, in a frenzy of lust. They were all flushed scarlet, hook-jawed and thrashing, straining to squeeze that last drop of life out in those last few moments, and then they’d drift, gasp a few last times in the shallows, and die. Their bodies draped the rocks on the edges of the stream, some torn and partially eaten, others rotting and stinking, some few lying with jaws and gills feebly working, waiting for death. It was all worth it, I’m sure.
First, cut a deep notch in the back of the head, down to the tops of the opercula. There will be a crunch as you go through the bone. Then, insert the tip of the knife into the vent, and slit forward through the thin soft flesh of the belly, up to the ventral “V” at the throat. Grab the head firmly, snap and twist downwards, and it will pop off cleanly, bringing the whole of the guts along with it in one smooth, quick operation. And there they’d lie, pale and dark and smooth and liverish and glistening, streaked with a little blood, and from the females you’d sometimes find spectacular orange-gold plates of eggs snugged down in a thin membrane…and those you’d set aside. Good bait. A final treachery extracted from a killing, useful in catching more of her kind.
I’d hold her headless body across my knees — so much like those days in the hatchery — and with a razor-sharp filleting knife, cut deeply across each side, the trick being to slice just a hair above ribs and vertebrae to minimize wastage, and I’d free two thick slabs of rich red boneless muscle, leaving behind a cartoon skeleton of a fish. The slabs were weighty and supple, a purified extract of perfect strength and motion, and I’d slide them into tubs of ice-cold brine, the salt thicker than sea water and dark with molasses. A few days of soaking, and then the fillets would be laid out in racks in the smoke house, and the cherry wood would smolder, and the meat would cure.
Mmmmmm. Salty and sweet, dark and smoky, strong-flavored and meaty. I tasted cold dark Pacific chases, crunchy marine invertebrates broken down and distilled into firm flesh; I tasted the freedom of the sea, and the fearful flight from orca and seal; I tasted the river-borne surge, the drive up familiar home waters in the company of fellow fish. It was good.
Now that’s an animal. “Interesting” is such a pallid descriptor, we need better. Glorious. Strong. Beautiful. Fierce. Free. I like those better.
Now by the rules I’m supposed to pluck out nine other blogs and inflict this meme on them. I have some handy tools here to use cruel randomness to pick from my blogroll, so with that I make nine casts, and dangle the hook before these few:
Whether they choose to take the bait is their choice. I’ll wait on shore with net, gaff and club, and long thin blade. But don’t be afraid. It’s worth it, I’m sure.
In the last category I was amused to watch male giant tortoises mating, sometimes with female giant tortoises and sometimes with rocks. It seems hard to us to image an animal, even as small brained as a giant tortoise would mistake a rock for one of ones own kind. But then you notice that while the mating males are huffing, puffing, and grunting and showing considerable signs of ogiastic endevours, the females have withdrawn completely – no head no legs no nothing, quite like rocks in fact. Or maybe 30 years is too long to hold a memory…
So that’s what a salmon farm looks like? They are wanked by hand?
So that’s what a salmon farm looks like? They are wanked by hand?
On another note, can someone explain to me why comment number 1 on this thread is numbered 585031 in its permalink? Does that mean the 500,000th-comment contest has long been over?
On another note, can someone explain to me why comment number 1 on this thread is numbered 585031 in its permalink? Does that mean the 500,000th-comment contest has long been over?
David, all the spam that was deleted over the years also had a number!
My father loved to fish, huge northern pike from Devils Lake. We had them fried and steamed, smoked and pickled, every kind of preparation Dad could find out about in those pre-Internet days. Thanks for letting me recall those lovely days.
Okay, I’m freaked out now. Thanks.
As a vegetarian, I feel excluded.
As a vegetarian, I feel excluded.
As a vagitarian (who’s also vegetarian) I feel strangely included…
Beautiful bit of writing.
Shouldn’t there be a warning of bad luck if the chain is broken?
Let me try:
Your monitor will drop two points of brightness, your squid shall wither up and your operators will fail to commute if you do not answer this.
Beautiful bit of writing.
Shouldn’t there be a warning of bad luck if the chain is broken?
Let me try:
Your monitor will drop two points of brightness, your squid shall wither up and your operators will fail to commute if you do not answer this.
And you shall be forever cursed with double-posting.
And you shall be forever cursed with double-posting.
It’s not a curse. It’s a blessing to the readers of this blog that they get to see my words twice over.
It seems PZ, should he ever lose his day job, could make a passable living as a writer for pornographic media.
Some might see it as a shame that such talent is wasted on mere science writing.
Let’s not forget “Dead” and “Tasty.”
I’ve read that we all end up swallowing a certain number of small spiders at night in our sleep. Even vegetarians are carnivores unaware.
You could write about those.
Justawriter, I assume you’re talking about Devils Lake, ND? That happens to be my hometown. Are you a Satan as well?
Hank: Swallowing spiders in your sleep is like Giuliani’s sanity: It’s a myth.
If you eat a loaf of bread made from flour you did not grind yourself, you’ve almost certainly eaten an animal. Or broccoli or cauliflower. Or anything cooked in a restaurant.
Oh, and my last isn’t meant as denying vegetarianism, which I respect. Just food industry facts of life.
Goat.
Goat.
Goat.
Sex with a goat.
Goat.
Riding home, early one morning, long ago on my Suzuki 250 X-6 Hustler I opened my mouth to yawn and consumed a small dragon fly!!
I currently have an interesting animal. A couple of months ago I was dragging a net through the Sargassum weed for small shrimp to give to my salt water fish as live food.
With the shrimp I caught this tiny fish which at the time was about a quarter of an inch long.
I didn’t think much of it’s chances of survival and really only thought of it as live food for my fish.
I threw it into a tank that holds a mismatched and very aggressive, territorial pair of fish, namely a 2″ stripped tropical atlantic damsel (not sure of the exact species) and a 3 inch long Red tooth hawaian Trigger fish (Odonus niger).
They usually make very short work of anything that is offered to them. So imagine my surprise when day after day the little fish was still swimming around.
Well It is now a couple months later and it is almost 2″ long and has turned a beautiful mottled brown and tan and with attractive yellow markings, probably to camouflage itself in it’s natural habitat among the Sargassum weed.
Now whenever I approach the tank it swims frantically back and forth and seems to know that I am bringing food.
I am truly amazed at its tenacity in carving out a niche for itself and surviving in an environment that is most definitely hostile and not it’s natural habitat. There is nowhere in my tank where it can hide.
Last night I was breaking up a clump of food with my fingers in the water and it started nipping my fingers.
I still haven’t been able to identify what species it is but I’m starting to hope it stops growing soon before it ends up eating the damsel and the trigger:-).
An interesting animal I ate:
By far the most interesting animal I have eaten is the American Alligator.
In terms of its social behavior, nesting, mating, how it cares for its young etc. There is also the it’s ancient ancestry and Fascinating physiology.
I’m mean what is there not to like about a tender caring communicative solar powered, (and very tasty I might add) living dinosaur. Ok,Ok, forgive my literary license.
An interesting animal in the Museum:
Changchengornis and primitive feathered flying dinosaur/birds at the The Dinosaurs of China exhibit in Miami Florida.
An interesting thing I did with or to an animal:
Well it’s more what the animal did to me. I spent the night at a house that had one of those special cat entrances. The next day when I went to put on my shoe I found what at first appeared to be a tightly wadded sock inside. It turned out that a young opossum had found it’s way into the the house and had decided my shoe was the perfect sleeping place.
The consequence was two very surprised animals. Me and the opossum.
An interesting animal in its natural habitat:
I have two experiences tied for first place, one, witnessing a trio of cuttlefish out on the reef in what must have been intense communication with possible sexual overtones. The dance and the range of colors was absolutely amazing! Second was snorkeling with a pod of 8 manatees off of Fort Lauderdale beach recently.
Result:
Bible.
I tasted cold dark Pacific chases, crunchy marine invertebrates broken down and distilled into firm flesh; I tasted the freedom of the sea, and the fearful flight from orca and seal; I tasted the river-borne surge, the drive up familiar home waters in the company of fellow fish.
You tasted mercury from coal-fired power plants.
That was a really fun read. I am impressed that you managed to answer all five questions with the same animal.
You should see how dolphin sperm samples are collected for artificial insemination. You have to wear a mask in case you happen to get blasted in the face….
Someone call the Humane Society!
And tell them this is totally hot.
“It seems PZ, should he ever lose his day job, could make a passable living as a writer for pornographic media.”
I remember reading a piece by the erotic writer Anais Nin, where only at the very end of the page do you discover that she’s describing… an orange.
To the vegetarians: Didn’t you know that Carrot Juice is Murder?
Interesting thing I did to an animal: I once stepped on a Jesus fish. Well I thought it was interesting.
I read that lovely, mouthwatering description with great pleasure until one bit stopped me in my metaphorical tracks in horror. PZ, have you never tasted salmon roe? It’s lovely: each egg a tiny juicy firecracker of salmon flavor. Much too good to waste as bait.
Oh, yes, I’ve had it now, but back when I would fish for salmon with my father, guts were guts and we wouldn’t eat ’em — they’d fertilize the rose bushes, or in the case of eggs, would be used as bait.
Good gods PZ, I will have to remember to take your warnings that I might not want to read something a little more seriously, at least this close to bedtime. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to have dreams about the brain stem of a cat, floating around in midair, stimulating fish, with nefarious intent.
Goat-herder –
Monkey see, monkey do. When I was a teen, I had a girlfriend who’s family kept two goats. One evening, when we finished having the sex, by the barn, we noticed that the goats were following our example. Being really stoned at the time, we both thought it was really cool. I’m pretty sure that’s when I gained my affinity for goats.
Ahh… brings back memories of Septembers in northern British Columbia and the Alaskan panhandle.
When someone asks me why I limp on my left leg, and I say an old injury, they say, “football?” Then I have to explain about a large Coho salmon and a slick rock in the Skeena River.
Animal I ate– capabara, a gigantic, aquatic South American rodent, is simply delicious dried and salted.
Thanks for reminding me of the spam. Sounds logical.
ARGH! Crocodiles are not dinosaurs!!!
Was that your literary license?
Thanks for reminding me of the spam. Sounds logical.
ARGH! Crocodiles are not dinosaurs!!!
Was that your literary license?
I find that statement oddly ambiguous, given the context.
An interesting animal in its natural habitat
Are there animals that are totally uninteresting in their natural habitat?
I utterly disapprove.
David, twas an “American Alligator” and yes I know that they are not dinosaurs. Crocodile probably tastes good too.
Nice post! And fun meme . . . I hope the others answer as well!
There is “crocodile” in the narrow sense (Crocodylidae), and then there’s “crocodile” in the wide sense, or rather several wide senses (Crocodylia through Crocodylomorpha). The alligators don’t belong to the former, but to the latter.
There is “crocodile” in the narrow sense (Crocodylidae), and then there’s “crocodile” in the wide sense, or rather several wide senses (Crocodylia through Crocodylomorpha). The alligators don’t belong to the former, but to the latter.
Personally, I prefer Artic char to salmon. Fattier and sweeter meat.
Not sure how my encounters with “interesting” fauna are going to compare with those of a biologist, but, well, alright…
“It’s a blessing to the readers of this blog that they get to see my words twice over.”
You can say that again.
David, I’m guessing, Crocodylia through Crocodylomorpha, on the grill spiked with some cajun hot sauce and washed down with a couple of ice cold brewskies, would all go down my omnivorous gullet with approximately equal gusto. ;-(0)
Great choice of animal, PZ!
You should put in for a job here at U of Alaska – Fairbanks. We’re doing some neat salmon research, and you don’t have to deal with that hot Minnesota weather!
(!!!) Hot bisexual and interspecifical action? That is a fish-gasm :)
here in trout-farming also is needed a “hand”, the farm conditions permit gonadal development but don´t trigger the spawning behavior(oh lustful fishkeepers)
for other side make think….all we enjoy a dish of farmed salmon and trout indeed enjoy a fruit of a (fish)masturbation………
As a vegetarian, I feel excluded.
As a vagitarian (who’s also vegetarian) I feel strangely included…