Lonesome George is back in Galapagos

Lonesome George the giant tortoise, the last individual of his species, has returned to Galapagos after an absence of almost five years. Following his unexpected death in 2012, the Galapagos National Park agreed to send him to a top-end taxidermist in New York. After painstaking treatment, George went on show at the American Museum of Natural History in 2014. He is now back in Galapagos, the centerpiece of a new exhibition aimed at visitors to the Fausto Llerena Breeding Center on Santa Cruz. By the time I met Lonesome George during my first visit to Galapagos in 2003, he had

Tian Tian, maybe definitely not

It is now virtually certain that Tian Tian, the female giant panda at Edinburgh Zoo, is no longer pregnant. Following artificial insemination in April, the zoo has been tracking Tian Tian’s hormone levels. The one to watch is progesterone. At around the time of ovulation, there is a small rise, with levels remaining roughly constant for several months. At this stage, the embryo is fertilized but is not developing. Then, some 60 to 100 days later, progesterone levels jump again from around 250 ng to 2500 ng (per gram of faeces) and the embryo begins to divide. In a press

Lonesome George has relatives

Lonesome George might be have passed away but he’s still making the news. Less than six months after his death, with his carapace still interred in a Galapagos freezer, it appears he may not have been the last of his kind after all. There is now clear evidence of giant tortoises with Pinta ancestry on another island in the archipelago. In a forthcoming study, geneticists from Yale University identify 17 hybrid tortoises with various combinations of Pinta genes on the nearby island of Isabela. The existence of these Pinta-like tortoises came to light by chance when an initial sample of

Lonesome George and the late Lord Devon’s helmet

On Monday, when news of Lonesome George’s death began to reach editors around the world, I was asked to write his obituary for the Guardian. As I had already sent in one to Nature, they sensibly got the very excellent John Vidal to do it instead. John’s done a pretty good job and he generously cites my book Lonesome George: The Life and Loves of a Conservation Icon. I was, however, very puzzled to read that I’d reported that “George was irresistibly attracted to the late Lord Devon’s wartime helmet, presumably because it resembled the shell of a young tortoise.”

The dance of the three-footed rhino

The rhinoceros stands on three legs. Her fourth – the front left – is shorter than the rest by an unlucky 13 cm and ends in a constricted knot of skin and bone. In a perfectly executed maneuver that incongruously brings a ballerina to mind, she shuffles her three good feet, as if on tip-toe, to a single point beneath her hefty frame. Her damaged limb begins to oscillate, looking more like a trunk as it swings backwards then forwards. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, she throws it upwards and her front limbs are cycling in the air. For a slow-motion instant,