Any number of men with whom the author of BV is aquainted might feel a twinge of envy when they learn of the prodigious attributes of the male Dromaius novaehollandiae; during breeding season, males experience an increase in luteinizing hormone and testosterone. The result? Their testicles double in size, and the birds switch from boxers to briefs.
But in one of mother nature’s canny twists, it is the males who are saddled with the biological clock. At first, the trade-off might not seem so bad: the pair mates every day, and the female is still responsible for laying the very large, thick-shelled, dark-green eggs.
Yet the tide soon turns: the male, brain addled by regular sex with a willing mate, turns broody after his mate starts laying, loses his apetite, and settles in to incubate the eggs before the laying period is even finished. From the moment he first settles down on those eggs, he will not eat, drink or shit for eight weeks while the eggs incubate. He loses weight, surviving on stored body-fat and any stray drops of morning dew that he can reach from the nest.
This is because infidelity is widespread amongst emu, and once the male starts brooding, the female starts looking for greener pastures, refusing to bring her erstwhile schmoopy a beer, make him a sandwich, or tend to his swollen testicles, preferring to sow her wild oats with other, more mobile males.
To be fair, some females stand by their man, defending the nest until the chicks start to hatch, but most of the shameless hussies leave to nest again; for a female Emu, a good summer fling may mean multiple nests with multiple mates.