This crazy name came up in a short multiple choice quiz set by the £1m winner of Who Wants to be a Millionaire? It is, it turns out, a fish, so named for its highly aggressive, territorial behaviour. I suppose sarcasm can be a relatively gentle form of aggression but I still don’t really get it although I understand that the second part of the name relates to the ruffs around their heads. And it’s not just the name that’s weird. They are a variety of tube-blenny. They can be up to a foot long and the males have extremely wide mouths, four times bigger when open than closed. Outwardly muted in colour and largely without scales, the inside of their mouths is fluorescent green and yellow. They also wrestle. Two males press their mouths together to determine which is bigger – the one who bites wins. Furthermore they are “ram-suction” feeders, which doesn’t sound great to be on the wrong end of. Anglers and divers avoid them – they bite with teeth like needles.
Birdwatching in the garden has been very restorative this week as the cold snap takes effect. Nice to get the photo of the Blue Tit above away from the feeder. This House Sparrow struck me as particularly handsome.
And I am always delighted by this male Great Spotted Woodpecker.
In spite of earlier uncertainty there still seem to be Wrens about and the Jackdaws are back, as are a Wood Pigeon, Blackbirds, Robins and Dunnocks.
An interesting and relevant crossword clue led me to the revelation that “sports” in plants are the result of genetic mutations occurring naturally but used by gardeners and others to create new plants.
I had to go to London on business recently. I am not sure if am just particularly unlucky or if the trains really are as bad as or worse than ever. On the very rare occasions when I have to get a train, something always goes wrong. In this case my train was cancelled altogether, apparently because so many were being repaired that day, meaning that I would be half an hour late for my appointment. I had a minor argument with the ticket inspector who told me I should “make my mind up” at the point when I was not sure whether I would still be completing the journey. I can scarcely believe now that I commuted on a daily basis for so many years with little or no idea how long it would actually take. Very often it amounted to four hours travelling every day. London seemed nothing but grey and full of people with miserable, frustrated looking faces. I grew up and lived there for many years but would hate to do so now. So many new buildings too, completed or under construction, also grey. Where does the money come from?
The latest issue of the Hunt Saboteurs Association’s quarterly Howl! magazine has arrived, too late to report on the most recent criminal atrocities (see Bulls, foxes, auks – Animal Wild). I loved visiting the Swannery at Abbotsbury in Dorset (see Animal Wild) but sorry to learn that the owner hunts foxes. Even under the new hunting law in Scotland (two hounds only and no trail hunting) and despite the resulting folding of four of ten packs, the rules are still being broken. Enforcement remains problematic.
The bravery of the sabs is always inspiring and they have been successfully active on the grouse shooting moors too. The so-called Glorious Twelfth “was once a prestigious day for this weird sub-section of animal abusers … but it is far from the case now” in large part thanks to the sabs. Much the same applies to the practices of beagling and mink hunting.
As Chris Packham said at the HSA event at the House of Commons, it is the sabs who “set their alarm clocks and go out in rain, shine or snow, violence and abuse and lack of co-operation from the police …”
World Horse Welfare News celebrates the truly global nature of their efforts across four continents and Peta the fantastic work of Animal Rabat in India.
Leave a Reply