I like “quoughts” (questions that provoke thoughts) and “Do jellyfish sleep?” is a good one. Jellyfish are interesting for lots of reasons, one of them being their place on the evolutionary landscape. The first jellyfish-like creatures (the ancestors of modern jellyfish) pitched up during the Cambrian explosion, more than 500 million years ago and are one of the first animal groups to boast organised tissues and a nervous system. There is nothing that could be described as a brain, but jellyfish neurons work in exactly the same way as vertebrate neurons. So do jellyfish experience anything akin to vertebrate sleep?
Last month, I hosted a post by historian Florike Egmond on my Guardian blog Animal Magic, one that proved incredibly popular. A few years ago, Egmond was in the Amsterdam University Library when she discovered an amazing collection of 16th-century drawings and watercolours of animals collected by the founding father of zoology Conrad Gessner and his fellow Swiss successor Felix Platter. These and many more illustrations feature in her new book on early modern natural history illustration, Eye For Detail (Reaktion Books, 2017) and I invited Egmond (with the kind permission of Amsterdam University Library) to put together a gallery
It’s true. Male pandas have such teensy winkies that many humans trained in the ways of sexing bears have mistaken boy pandas for girl pandas. Female pandas have a reproductive window so fleeting – just a day or two a year – that even if a male panda were to erect his little soldier, it would be unlikely to see any action. Based on these two observations, many people like to imagine that pandas are sexually inadequate, a species that would surely be extinct were it not for the supportive role played by humans. The truth about pandas and sex
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
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 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