{JAPAN, 2006}
The Snake and the Hamster
HAMSTER
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Rodentia
FAMILY: Cricetidae
GENUS: Mesocricetus
SPECIES: Mesocricetus raddei
RAT SNAKE
KINGDOM: Animalla
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Reptilia
ORDER: Squamata
FAMILY: Colubridae
GENUS: Elaphe
SPECIES: E. climacophora
Dear snake owners and friends of small rodents: Please don’t try this at home. In what is arguably one of the stranger cases of interspecies relations, a four-foot rat snake at the Mutsugoro Okoku Zoo in Tokyo, Japan, seemed content to cradle a dwarf hamster within its muscular coils instead of clutching it in a death grip and swallowing it whole.
A keeper at the zoo, who was interviewed about the animals by a videographer, said that when he first captured the snake, it fasted for about two weeks, uninterested in frogs or other small animals that were offered as meals. The keeper finally placed a hamster in the tank, assuming a warm and frisky mammal would be just the thing to pique the snake’s appetite.
At first the interaction seemed normal enough. The hamster, jokingly called Gohan—“meal” in Japanese—roamed the tank and sniffed the snake all over. The snake, Aochan, sensed the heat of the animal and “tasted” the air around it with its flicking tongue, as it would do before any meal. But not only did the snake not attack and eat the hamster, it appeared to the keeper that the two natural enemies began showing affection for one another. Soon Gohan was climbing up and over the snake’s body and fidgeting among the coils as if making a bed there. Then it settled in the snake’s embrace, and Aochan even adjusted its body to accommodate the little creature. “I sensed that the relationship wasn’t about eating, but was about friendship,” the keeper said in the interview. The animals remained together without incident.
It’s a lovely idea, that a snake known for its quick strike and power to suffocate warm-blooded animals could be a comfort to a nervous rodent. Of course, there are more likely explanations. Rat snakes will hibernate during cold weather, with a drop in metabolism to conserve energy, and the hamster–snake incident took place in autumn. So it’s likely that Aochan simply wasn’t hungry, his predatory drive in low gear. A summertime introduction to Gohan might have ended very differently indeed.
Regardless of the reason for the animals’ peaceful interaction, the behaviors were intriguing, and drew many visitors to the zoo to see a snake and a rodent in an unexpected embrace.
{KENYA, 2005}
The Tortoise and the Hippo
GIANT TORTOISE
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Sauropsida
ORDER: Testudines
FAMILY: Testudinidae
GENUS: Aldabrachelys
SPECIE: A. gigantea
HIPPO
The hippo’s yawn is not a sign of tiredness but a show of power. It’s used to threaten predators by showing off the animal’s rather colossal teeth.
It has fast become one the most famous examples of interspecies friendship ever told. Reptiles aren’t typically known for their warm, fuzzy natures. Nor are hippos.
The story goes that when the deadly December 2004 tsunami hit the Kenyan coast near the village of Malindi, the waves swept away all but one hippo of a pod wallowing in the Sabaki River. This lone survivor was a 600-pound baby that villagers managed, with colossal effort, to capture and transport to the Haller Park Wildlife Sanctuary in Mombasa.
Hippos can be aggressive and ill-tempered, even toward their own kind. So baby Owen, named after one of his human rescuers, was placed in an enclosure along with small, gentle animals like vervet monkeys, bushbucks, and, as it happened, a 130-year-old Aldabra giant tortoise named Mzee.
That’s when strange and wonderful things started to happen. Owen immediately approached Mzee and crouched down behind him as if hiding behind a great boulder. Mzee moved away, seeming annoyed, but the hippo persisted. And by the next morning, the two had managed a sort of awkward cuddle. Hippos in the wild crowd near each other, but except for mothers and young, they don’t really bond socially. Giant tortoises also hang out in herds without forming any great attachments. The young hippo, perhaps craving motherly attention, found something comforting in an old, set-in-his-ways reptile—a pairing as unlikely as they come.
Hippo babies usually stay with their mothers for four years, learning how to be hippos. In this case, Owen began learning how to be a tortoise. According to Haller Park’s manager, Paula Kahumbu, he began copying Mzee’s feeding behaviors, chewing on the same grasses. He’d ignore other hippos bellowing elsewhere in the park, and he was most active during the day, which is the opposite of typical hippo behavior but in line with tortoise preferences. The two followed each other around, wallowed together in the pond, and slept side by side, meaty torso against timeworn shell. Owen became protective of his reptile companion and affectionate toward him, licking Mzee’s face as the tortoise rested his head on Owen’s belly.
Scientists have been most fascinated with how the two animals developed their own physical and verbal language. With gentle nips and nudges to feet or tails, they told each other when to move and in which direction. They sounded off, back and forth, with deep rumbling sounds not typical of either animal. “What strikes me is how sophisticated their mutual communication system became,” says animal behaviorist Barbara King. “It’s a dynamic dance between two species with no preset program on how to deal with each other. And it can’t just be instinct, because one was shaping its behavior to the other.”
{SOUTH AFRICA, 2005}
The White Rhino and the Billy Goat
WHITE RHINO
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Perissodactyla
FAMILY: Rhinocerotidae
GENUS: Ceratotherium
SPECIES: C. simum
BILLY GOAT
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Artiodactyla
FAMILY: Bovidae
GENUS: Capra
SPECIES: C. aegagrus
The Rhino and Lion Nature Reserve, located on the high plateau region of inland South Africa, is named for two of its most charismatic beasts. Owned by stockbroker Ed Hern, the place in its early years was just an old farm with a modest collection of two white rhinos. It now houses more than 600 game animals representing twenty-five species.
One of the animals was a six-month-old rhino calf that had been brought to the reserve after her mother was killed by poachers. The calf was spotted cowering by her mother’s carcass, and it was decided she should be hand-reared until she was old enough to fend for herself among other rhinos. But a half-year rhino gulps down gallon after gallon of milk each day, and acquiring a trough of the drink on a daily basis was difficult. Fortunately, a South African dairy supplier offered to sponsor enough milk-replacement formula to feed the beast. The charitable company was called Clover. And from then on, so was the rhino.
Clover craved constant attention, says Lorinda Hern, the daughter of the reserve’s owner. That’s not surprising for an animal typically inseparable from its mother for its first eighteen months of life. For a while, a human handler kept her company—virtually a full-time job. At this point, the youngster’s daily milk intake was at fourteen gallons; at mealtimes she’d impatiently await her massive drink with childlike squealing and foot stomping. But as the rhino ballooned to over 600 pounds, the position of rhino chaperone became increasingly dangerous. Although Clover was extremely gentle, her sheer bulk meant that she could easily crush a human foot—or worse—by simply being too rambunctious. Human efforts at discipline were useless at tempering the little rhino’s exuberance. And anyw
ay, it was not ideal to let her become too attached to humans, as it would make her an easy target for poachers in the future.
But solo living wasn’t good for Clover, and she soon fell ill. A local vet diagnosed her with a stomach ulcer, a condition he believed was related to stress and loneliness. Clover needed a new friend, but no other young rhinos were on hand. So, in an experimental move, a tame adult billy goat was ushered into Clover’s pen.
As expected, Clover was very curious about the new resident, sniffing and nudging him at every opportunity. Unfortunately, her new neighbor was annoyed by the invasive behavior. He charged at her, head lowered aggressively in the same way that goats establish a hierarchy when they’re among other goats. Clover meekly retreated to a safer distance. But within minutes she’d take her chances and approach again. Even though Clover loomed like a giant over the goat, the smaller animal wasn’t intimidated and proved himself the dominant member of the pair. Clover was so thrilled at having a friend—even a moody and temperamental one—she seemed happy to consent to his terms.
Within a week or two, the rhino and the goat—aptly, if somewhat unimaginatively, named Goat—were inseparable. The gruff billy patiently indulged Clover when she wanted to play “chase,” marked by the rhino’s excited squeals and satisfied grunts. When Clover was napping, Goat would deftly clamber onto her back and use her as a lookout point to scout the area. Clover, meanwhile, generously shared her shelter, food, and toys, and was totally devoted to her new companion. She followed him relentlessly—his 1,200-pound lapdog. Despite Goat’s occasional irritation at her persistence, Lorinda says the two cuddled up together at bedtime. Reserve staff worried that Goat might be flattened under his weighty sleeping partner, but no such accidents happened. And it was Goat’s presence day and night, they are certain, that brought about a complete turnaround in Clover’s health. She fattened up and her mood brightened. With a companion nearby, all was well.
{TEXAS, U.S.A., 2008}
The Zebra and the Gazelle
ZEBRA
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Perissodactyla
FAMILY: Equidae
GENUS: Equus
SPECIES: E. zebra
DORCAS GAZELLE
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Artiodactyla
FAMILY: Bovidae
GENUS: Gazella
SPECIES: G. dorcas
Here’s a quick tale about a gazelle that found an unlikely protector in a striped horse.
First, picture a young gazelle in the wild. It’s a fragile and vulnerable thing that browses the open grasslands, steppe, and mountain deserts of Africa, Arabia, and India. The petite ungulate’s best defense against aggressive types—usually predatory cats—is to run for its life … and to be just a bit swifter than the gazelle running beside it.
The Houston Zoo’s gazelle will never need to flee an enemy of any kind, it appears.
According to curator Daryl Hoffman, the zoo has a large multispecies exhibit with warthog, zebra, giant eland, nyala (a South African antelope), and a lone male Dorcas gazelle—the littlest variety. “When we put these animals together a few years ago, we were concerned for the safety of the gazelle,” he says. “Zebra are known to be aggressive toward young or small antelope, and have been known to kill newborns.” So they kept a close eye on the situation. (In the wild, a gazelle, fearful of a potential aggressor, might be seen “pronking” away on all fours, as if on pogo sticks.)
To everyone’s surprise and delight, one of the female zebras in the mixed-up herd formed a strong relationship with the gazelle. She began to hang out with him all the time, watching over him when he rested, following him around as he wandered, and nudging the smaller mammal to join her when she was ready to move from one spot to another in their enclosure—as a mother zebra might do to her foal.
In a wilder setting, of course, these two hooved animals would have to part ways. Dorcas gazelles typically migrate fairly locally, being well adapted to their arid home and sometimes even surviving without a major water source—getting their liquid from the plants they eat. But zebras’ hunger, thirst, and desire to mate send them traveling great distances as the seasons change, joining epic migrations of wildebeest and other nomadic herds in search of greener, wetter lands. But in the safe haven of a zoo, those natural instincts are sometimes supplanted by other instincts. In the case of the zebra and the gazelle, it would seem maternal instincts simply won out.
When the zoo staff introduced a new warthog to the group, for instance, the zebra became extremely protective of the gazelle, as if knowing the big pig could be temperamental. “Whenever the warthog approached, she would step between them, making sure the hog couldn’t get too close,” says Hoffman.
Especially notable was an incident when the gazelle injured himself and the zebra stepped up her guard. As the staff came in to treat the injured animal, the zebra became frantic and pushed against him, trying to persuade him to get up and out of human reach. “When he wouldn’t budge, the zebra tried to block us from approaching,” Hoffman recalls. The gazelle was eventually removed and treated in the zoo’s clinic. On his return to the exhibit, Hoffman says, the animals were at first tentative around each other. But after a few days, zebra and gazelle had a reunion, ungulate style. They’re now clopping through life side by side once again.
Afterword
ISN’T IT SO TEMPTING, SO HUMAN, TO LOOK INTO YOUR dog’s eyes and see love, or to believe upturned lips on any animal’s face mean happiness? Consider the dolphin, with that most infamous, enduring smile. It’s almost disappointing to learn that the expression has to do with the animal’s feeding strategy, not its mood. As author Eugene Linden points out in The Parrot’s Lament, “If dolphins had evolved to attack their prey fish from above instead of below, they might have been cursed with a permanent frown.”
Still, as this book has hopefully convinced a few skeptics, emotion and empathy, pleasure and disappointment aren’t only in the human domain. The task of collecting these stories opened my eyes to just how often animals can surprise us with their depth of caring. As word got around that I was gathering interspecies stories, the photos and narratives flowed in daily—many more than I could use. I was introduced to a special place in England called Twycross Zoo with a decadeslong history of primates befriending dogs, and to households of mixed pets that played and ate and slept in tandem like human brothers and sisters. I was told about a pup that cuddled with an orphaned porcupine, and I read of a chimp that found a bird in his cage and gently set it free. I considered images of a chick riding atop a turtle, an orangutan walking a dog on a leash, and a mouse balancing beside a lovebird on its perch. I had to cut myself off lest I fill hundreds more pages with funny, sweet, and inspiring tales.
Still, there is one more story that I just cannot leave behind, my own story, so I’d like to close with it here. It depicts an odd combination of fish that I witnessed together on the Great Barrier Reef in Australia in 2009. It doesn’t quite fit the “friendship” bill, perhaps, but it’s a wonderful account of an interspecies interaction just the same.
Of course, countless types of fish bump fins in the coral reef environment, but this species pairing not only made me laugh (not easy with a scuba regulator in your mouth), but it made me wonder just what might be going on in those little fish brains. The scene was ripe for anthropomorphizing. Please, allow me.
A different baby gibbon embraces a buddy.
A lab and baby gibbon cuddle at twycross Zoo.
{AUSTRALIA, 2009}
The Author, the Sweetlips, and the Puffer Fish
ORIENTAL SWEETLIPS
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Actinopterygii
ORDER: Perciformes
FAMILY: Haemulidae
GENUS: Plectorhinchus SPECIES: P. vittatus
STARRY PUFFER FISH
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Actinopterygii
ORDER: tetraodontiformes
FAMILY: tetraodontidae
GENUS: Arothron
SPECIES: Arothronstellatus
ON AUSTRALIA’S GREAT BARRIER REEF, IF YOU DIVE down with the sun’s rays as they slice into the sea, a festival of life explodes into view.
At least 2,000 species of fish, plus invertebrates and other critters, wriggle and flit along the walls of the reef, which is a series of coral mountains that rise and fall for some 1,400 miles—the largest living natural structure on Earth. There, on one particularly lively stretch of rock, I witnessed a marine partnership unlike anything I’d seen before.
The ocean is a good place to find “symbiotic” relationships—associations of different species that may offer benefits like access to food, protection, or just a ride from here to there. Think of clownfish that gain security from predators by living within toxic anemones, or the remora fish that clings to a shark’s belly to feed on the parasites living there.
Unlikely Friendships Page 9