Category Archives: baby animals

Tiny animals make BV smile

The author has been remiss, and has neglected to deliver promised entries. Well, dear readers, that is changing, starting now, with a new link I love.

Hooray, tiny animals has all of the squishy cutsiepoo appeal that the author of BV secretly loves in an alarmingly pre-adolescent way. Enjoy, and return for more posts.

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Foxy Loxy Strikes Again: Hide your manolos.

Citizens the German town of Föhren have been in a tizzy for the past year, wondering what kind of sick freak would going around stealing single shoes from their doorsteps in the middle of the night, leaving their mates behind. More than 100 mismatched hiking shoes, Wellingtons, steel-capped workman’s boots, flipflops and smelly old bedroom slippers went missing.

Well, folkes, as it turns out, it’s one shoe-loving vixen (aren’t we all) that has absconded with the missing footwear. Just one shoe at a time mind you, as she has to carry them home in her mouth.  

 Locals have offered two explanations for her kleptomania: either 1) she has been gathering the footwear as toys for her pups, or 2) “She’s clearly got a thing about shoes.” Claro.

This second  option is the opinion of one Rudolf Reichsgraf von Kesselstatt, the local count (a count!!!!), who adds that  “the shoes may well be intended as toys for the cubs because there are bite marks made by little teeth on the shoelaces.” This is very cute. And not at all what one (at least, dear readers, one American with little to no experience with german nobility) would expect a count to be occupying his time with.  But the author of BV has a quibble with Count RRvonK: he is quoted as saying “It’s impressive that she found the time to steal them in addition to getting food.”

Silly man. Today’s liberated, self-sufficient, upwardly-mobile  vixen can work a full-time job, keep a fabulous home, cook herself and her loved ones gourmet meals, and though things like sex and balancing her checkbook may fall by the wayside, she will always, always, always have Time for Shoes.

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Tickle-me Elmo’s friend, the Slow-Loris

 

The author of BV would like to be clear: wild and exotic animals are not pets. They belong in the fields and forests and streams, making nice with other wild and exotic animals. And the Slow Loris, a south/southeast asian primate currently considered threatened/endangered, is no exception. These little charmers, which have long been hunted for their eyes (used in local traditional medicine), deserve a break,  and should NOT be sought and poached, ripped heartlessly from their native lands,  for no reason but our own gratification.

That said… I kinda want one.   

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Breaking News: Carnivorous Cushions Consume Cat

Apparently, dear readers, someone at the Huffington Post thinks that animal hijinks constitue breaking news… or at least, a worthwhile diversion from the ills of the breaking news…

The “Cute/ridiculous animal thing of the day” section is, of you enjoy the cute/creepy kitty videos portion of BV, right. up. your. alley. Thanks again to lowlyadjunct for this excellent find.

We (and by “we”, dear readers, I mean, of  course,  “I”) am sure that you will find the following video (which is, in the words of lowlyadjunct, “a video of a couch eating a cat and then spitting it back out again”) ample reason to check beneath your couch cushions. You never know what you might find under there…   

 

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Banker Invests in Duckling Futures.

Joel Armstrong , a 43-year-old banker in Washington state, had been been watching a mother duck  nest on a ledge outside his office window for  35 days, so he was not surprised to see them when he got to town on saturday for the city’s annual Lilac festival. 

He was, however, surprised to see two of the little yellow bundles launch themselves from their preciptous perch.  The mother duck, who stood watching at ground level, might have anticipated the worst– had Armstrong not stepped up to the plate.  

Because Armstrong  channeled his inner A-Rod by rushing to the scene, fielding each fuzzy yellow pop-fly handily as they launched themselves into the air and hurtled towards the ground.

Emboldened by their fellows’ good fortune, four more hatchlings followed suit. Armstrong’s catching arm was strong: he lowered each one safely to the impatient mother duck, who seemed to approve of Armstrong’s technique. (Armstrong ultimately had to use a ladder to retrieve the final two ducklings, who were more risk-averse, or less enthsiastic baseball fans, than were their brothers and sisters.)   

 Finally the mother duck and Armstrong, task completed, led the ducklings, side by side, down two blocks of the parade route to the Spokane river, hearkening to the resounding cheers of the approving parade-goers who lined both sides of the street, providing witness to Armstrong’s infield skills- neglected since grade school, but the best investment this banker ever made.  

(the link below is to video of the event)

http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=7618021

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Money Might Not, But Barnacle Geese Do (grow on trees)

img4465

 Source: British Library Images Online Copyright Copyright 2004 British Library / Used by permission Manuscript description British Library, Harley MS 4751, Folio 36r

What medieval-inspired bestiary would be complete without the Barnacle Goose?  According to Sir John Mandeville, who wrote in the 14th century CE, this fantastic creature is–or was– a species of goose that grows on trees. Not in trees, mind you. On trees.

In his Travels, Sir John writes that

 I told them of as great a marvel to them, that is amongst us, and that was of the Bernakes. For I told them that in our country were trees that bear a fruit that become birds flying, and those that fell in the water live, and they that fall on the earth die anon, and they be right good to man’s meat. And hereof had they as great marvel, that some of them trowed it were an impossible thing to be.

We moderns might be inclined to trow it impossible, too. Yet is it possible that the barnacle goose finds its equivalent in recent college graduates, who find themselves suddenly adrift of the parental money tree, and must function on their own or perish?  Indeed, the author sees many subtle similarities. Barnacle goslings grow on trees that overhang bodies of water; the young birds hang from their sprouting-points by their beaks.  When the birds are “ripe,” they fall. The fortuitous ones, which fall into the water, float and find themselves well on their way to healthy, productive adult lives. But those that fall on land– or go to graduate school– face a harder fate. Some die. The 14th century besties apparently all died, as there simply aren’t many tree-growing geese running about these days.

Yet today’s hapless little geese, who unerringly choose graduate studies in something “esoteric” like “Medieval English” or “Philosphy,” may in fact return to the life-giving tree well into adulthood, until the tree at long last shouts:

“Enough already! how long does a dissertation TAKE, anyway?

sigh.

take it from the author of BV, dear readers. major in something useful, like billiards, or graft.

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Filed under academia, baby animals, extinct species, folklore, human behavior, medieval, parasites, Phobia-inducing, the strange and the beautiful, Uncategorized

Adoption in the animal world: Mother-love transcends species.

To all the mothers out there: happy Mothers’ Day. Every time this day rolls around, we hear a lot about the experience of giving birth, and folkes make a fuss about the bond that grows between mother and child in vitro. I’m sure that that is magical, that it is wonderful…

But there is more than one way for the mother-child bond to grow, and some of us out here in the wide world of possibilities are lucky enough to have experienced this.  So this entry is dedicated to all the mothers in the world whose babies grew not under your hearts but in them: you (like my own mama) are my heroes; your love depends not on the accident of  birth but on the breadth and depth of your giant hearts.

…sniffle. Okay, that was as much sentimentality as the author of BV, in her official capacity, can  justify. YOUtube video, anyone?

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“Viking Kittens iz Where its at” Indeed.

 

It is difficult to resist the lure of a theme. and the lure of the “crazy/cute/creepy cat video” theme is best compared, dear reader(s), to crack cocaine.

While naysayers (and I have one particular naysayer in mind, who will likely never read this post) might complain that “[he] hate[s] cats. And hates people who take pictures of their cats “in stuff.”” Even he has been known on occasion to succumb to the lure of a well-made kitty vid.

And this one, oh my darlings, is something that must be experienced to be believed. This is Viking Kittens, on their way to Valhalla… set to music of the Led Zepplin variety.

Follow the link below. Enjoy. 

http://www.dennyweb.com/viking_kittens.htm

 

NB: 

I have no remorse for posting this.  You may direct any and all complaints about refrains subsequently floating unbidden through your mind to  

 http://cinnabari.livejournal.com/

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Happy Birthday!!! Ibringyouthecreepy!!!

Yes, folkes, despite rumors that the author of BV was raised by (hyper-literate) wolves, she does, in fact, have a lovely human mother, who celebrated a birthday today.

Mama, for your birthday I bring you the creepiest cat video to grace our fair pages… so far.

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Blatant Animal Exploitation.

These animalian commercials were produced by Capitalist Pigs. Get it? Pigs?

 

… the author of BV apologizes. That joke was not funny. Hopefully, these will be…

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Sharks: Sisters are doing it for themselves

       scalloped_hammerhead_shark_465x310             

Ladies, listen up: While many of us of slightly-less-than a certain age have started reaching our “scary age”s  and have taken to searching the web for ways to delay (or defeat) the tick-tick-icking of our biological clocks, a few select  members of  superorder Selachimorpha have taken matters into their own hands: a quick search of National Geographic’sarchives generates no fewer than 742 hits on “virgin births” in the animal world. two of note occured in sharks.

In October of 2008, a female blacktip shark in Virginia was confirmed to have successfully committed parthenogenesis– a process by which females of some species can produce young without the sticky contribution and equally sticky commitment issues of males.  

Lest you women out there feel too much jealous animosity towards “Tidbit” (the female blacktip in question), you should also know that she died on the physician’s table during a routine physical exam. It was during the subsequent necropsy that scientists discovered that she was carryng a near-term shark pup, as there had been no previous indication of gestation.  Yes, you read right: she managed to get pregnant on her own and didn’t even have to worry about stretch marks. But then she died.

The first time scientists had witnessed parthenogenesis amongst sharks was at a Nebraska zoo in 2001, when a baby hammerhead was born to one of three possible mothers in the shark tank, none of which had access to males. Sadly, despite the successful full-term birth, the baby hammerhead (see photo, below) was killed within hours by a stingray cohabiting the tank.

The author of BV submits that there is something fishy going on:  these “virgin births” seem to end only in tragedy… perhaps it should be a lesson to us all… 


R.I.P., little shark: this baby hammer head was the result of a virgin birth and died tragically young, giving new meaning to the term "jesus fish."

R.I.P., little shark: this baby hammer head was the result of a virgin birth and died tragically young, giving new meaning to the term "jesus fish."

* Legal disclaimer: the author of B.V. in no way means to insinuate that this fish is actually Jesus, that its fate is related to or sheds light on the Christain belief system, or even that the joke is particularly funny.  Any complaints should be directed to  Rush Limbaugh .**

**Legal disclaimer: The author of B.V. does not claim any affiliation, topical, personal, creative, contractual, or otherwise, with  Mr. Limbaugh or his  production company, but is sure he’d love to hear from you.

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hairless cat: nothing but pink parts

hairless_cat

The Sphynx, also known as the Canadian hairless cat,  has skin the texture of Chamois leather, often covered with “peach fuzz, which displays the markings that the fur would have (were there any). Hairless cats, while follicularly challenged, come in all manner of feline variations (solid, point, van, tabby, tortie, etc). Without the barrier of an insulating coat,  the hairless cat’s velvety skin  feels warm to the touch.  

Known for their extroverted behavior, hairless cats are highly energetic and intelligent. Like all cats, hairless cats  are guilty of near-fatal  curiosity, but make up for their hijinks by demonstrating unparalleled affection for their people.

Indeed, ladies, the next time something warm and hairless rubs up against your leg under the covers, you might want to think twice before hurling the alarm clock at the head of your amorous mate: because the sphynx has no hair to keep it warm, it can often be found cuddling up against its owners under the covers.

 

Finally, the author of BV would like to subit that despite an arguably creepy adult appearance, hairless kittens are, to use the technical term,  pretty goddamn cute. 

2_week-old_female_sphynx_28suki29

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pink elephant: not just a figment of your imagination

this rare pink elephant, probably an albino, was recently spotted in botswana
The next pink animal to grace our fair page is this charming little pink elephant. Scientists say that he is probably an albino, but the discerning readers of BV (all several of you. ahem.) will likely join the author in her suspicion that his coloring is a direct result of the night of debauchery that concieved him.

Of course,  this rosy-toned pachyderm is *so* cute that  the author hopes you will not hold his inillustrious conception against him, and will cross your fingers, pray, and/or do an interpretive dance for  his survival under the hot african sun, which, experts caution, may lead to blindness and skin problems for the calf.  

We’re behind you, little pink elephant. And we will likely see you tonight after a tipple or two.

cf. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nwNPaYoTY8
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7951331.stm

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Early Birds

This baby bird hatched early, but into a good nest.

This baby bird hatched early, but into a good nest.

Baby birds are among nature’s most amazing creatures.  Newly hatched chicks range from helpless to remarkably independent, depending on  species. The most helpless newborn chicks (nature’s true early birds) are called altricial, and are typically born tiny, blind and naked; need help thermoregulating; and must be brooded for longer than chicks who had more time in the egg. Yet as tiny and fragile as they are, incubated and underweight, these remarkable creatures grow and thrive under the care of attentive parents– much like their human counterparts. The major difference between early birds and early babies is quantifiable in neither Linnaen nor Darwinian terms;  while we can only speculate as to whether parental avian pairs  “love” their brood, there can be no doubt that the early human baby of which the author of BV is thinking  is loved, and his arrival, while precipitous, much celebrated. 

To HD and his lovely Wife, congrats on the birth of your baby bird!

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