This week’s mystery object is a return to bony form, with a genuine mystery object dug straight out of the ground:
Any idea what this could be? I’m keen to hear your thoughts in the comments below – I hope you have fun with it!
Last week I gave you another guest mystery object from regular contributor Andy Taylor FLS FBNA:
This proved to be a tricky challenge. The large size and the lack of a halux (the rear-facing small toe found in many birds) makes this seem like the feet of some sort of Ratite, which is the group of birds that includes a variety of flightless examples, including Ostriches, Emus, Cassowarys, Rheas, and Kiwis – many of which lack the hallux.
However, these feet do not belong to a Ratite – and in the comments, many of you seemed to notice that there was something funky with the arrangement of the toes and bones that may have offered a clue to indicate that fact. Even though they’re not from a Ratite, there are some useful pointers that can be taken from the similarities, since form follows function and if we know Ratite feet can look similar to these, then perhaps it’s worth asking “why is that?”
Many (although not all) Ratites have three forward-facing robust toes, although the Ostriches are a bit of an exception, as they only have two toes per foot. In the evolutionary push to be fast on your feet, too many toes can make you slow – just look at how horses have lost all but one of theirs.
Ratites also lack a hallux, and their claws don’t curve. These features all reflect the fact that Ratites don’t perch on branches, they’re heavy, and they spend most, if not all, of their time walking around on dry grasslands (actually, this isn’t true for Kiwis or the extint Moas that have more scrubby or habitats, but these Ratites do have a hallux). These are all useful things to consider when thinking about potential species that these feet could be from.
If you think of large and heavy birds that don’t perch and have a grassland habitat the list of possible options gets narrowed down quite quickly. Sereimas and Secretary Birds are out, as they have a hallux and more curved claws. Storks, Megapodes and Galliformes all also have a hallux. But one type of bird matches the description very well – the Bustards (or Otididae if you prefer).
The size means it must be one of the larger species of Bustard, but I suspect that it would be difficult to confirm the identification to species level without good quality reference material, since there are quite a few species. But in this case we’re luck to know the species, since Andy has the information – these feet belonged to a Great Bustard Otis tarda Linneaus, 1758.
It’s a species I’ve talked about before in a previous post and I really appreciate Andy sharing the images and information from his collection, and all the thoughts and comments that came in about the mystery object from the community here on Zygoma. Thanks for taking part!
This week I have another guest mystery object for you from regular contributor Andy Taylor FLS FBNA:
I’m keen to hear your thoughts on what the owner of this magnificent pair of feet might have been in the comments below. If it proves very difficult then myself of Andy might be tempted to offer up some clues, but I have a suspicion that some of you might work it out yourselves. Either way, I hope you enjoy the challenge!
Last week I gave you this mystery object found by the family of one of my colleagues to have a go at identifying:
Adam Yates got the ball rolling with some key observations about this skeletal element that provides a handy set of clues to look for when assessing vertebra:
The element is easier than than the taxon. It is a thoracic vertebra from a mammal because it has zygapophyses (so therefore not a fish), flat centrum faces (so therefore not bird or reptile), and rib articulation facets (so therefore not from the neck, lumbar or tail regions). Which mammal is less easy, I’m pretty sure it is isn’t a relative of flipper, but that’s all I’ve got now.
Adam was also right in flagging that it’s not from a cetacean – their transverse processes are longer and less robust than we see in this mystery specimen. However, this bone was found on the beach on Achill Island, so there’s a good chance it’s from a species that’s frequently in the water.
Then Joe Vans, Kat Edmonson and Adam got stuck in with consideration of the possible species and specific thoracic vertebra, and as part of that there was reference to images from John Rochester’s Flickr pages. As far as I’m concerned, John’s pages are some of the best resources available for osteological comparison and I use them regularly.
The discussion ended up converging on the 5th thoracic vertebra (or T5 as it would be commonly referred to) of a Harbour Seal, based on specimens imaged by John here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jrochester/14181517647 – best compared to this image of the mystery specimen:
This could well be correct, but I personally think it may be from a different species of seal. The size is fairly large (based on the hand that provides some scale), yet the epiphyses of the articular surfaces are not fully fused, suggesting that this is from a subadult animal:
This suggests to me that the animal had some more growing to do before reaching full size, which may impact on some of the features, but it also makes me think that the vertebra is probably on the smaller end of the size range for the species.
For me that would suggest a Grey Seal Halichoerus grypus (O. Fabricius, 1791) and looking at another of John’s pages: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jrochester/24441096790/in/photostream/ I would expect it to be in the T6 or T7. This also tracks for me in terms of the shape of the neural canal, which seems narrower and taller (generally more square) in the Grey Seal compared to a broader and perhaps more triangular neural canal in the Harbour Seal.
I suspect a measurement of the size would help confirm one way of the other, so I’ll see if I can get that to be sure. I hope you enjoyed the challenge of working this out, and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you think it could be something else!
This week I have another guest mystery object for you, found on a beach by the family of one of my museum colleagues:
Let me know your thoughts about the species, where in the body this particular bone came from, and any other deductions you might have about the animal? I look forward to seeing if you agree with my thoughts!
This week I have a genuine mystery object for you, discovered while emptying cupboards in the Dead Zoo:
Amy idea what these vertebrae might belong to? If it’s of any use for getting a sense of scale, my thumbnail is 20mm across.
I’m interested to hear your thoughts!
Last week I gave you a charismatic critter to have a go at identifying:
I only provided a close-up of the face of the specimen, since I didn’t want to make it too easy, and when you see the whole skeleton it’s pretty obvious which animal this is from:
This is, of course, a Pichiciago or Pink Fairy Armadillo Chlamyphorus truncatus Harlan, 1825.
These tiny Argentinan armadillos are incredibly cute, with their silky fine hair and huge forefeet with massive claws (all the better for burrowing, my dear), although it’s a little hard to see that from the skeleton, so here’s this specimen’s skin:
Several of you worked out what this was, but Adam Yates was the first to post the answer – so well done Adam.
One of the observations from Kat Edmonson was about the protuberences from the top of the skull – for which I’ve yet to find any functional explanation. It may be as simple as providing a structure to support the armoured shield over the head area, but it’s not present in other armadillo species, so I’m not sure how this would work.
Since this species burrows and spends a lot of time in the sand hunting for ants and insect larvae, it may be that the bony protrusions help channel sound to help with prey detection and predator avoidance – but that is pure speculation. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this feature!
Well done to everyone who worked out the identity of this mystery object – while it may be distinctive, it’s an unusual wee beastie.
Last week I gave you this piece of bone to have a go at identifying:
I have to admit, it’s even harder than I thought it would be, so I should probably apologise about now! Adam Yates got as close as I think is really achievable from just this photo, dropping the clue:
He was very stern and he flipped me the bird when I suggested it looked like a ship: galley-form you could say.
This of course is a hint that the bone is a sternum from a bird in the Order Galliformes. Adam then followed up with:
I’m grousing because its proving difficult for me to identify beyond tribe level
This points us in the direction of the Tetraonini – the tribe within the Galliformes that contains the various species of Grouse. I’m entirely in agreement with Adam. Bird sterna are quite characteristic, as you can see from the gallery of different sterna below:
The chicken sternum in the images above (first one pictured) is the closest in form to the mystery object. The Galliformes have a tiny flat section to their sternum, with long processes coming off to support the pectoral muscle, unlike most other birds which have large flat sections to accommodate the muscle. This likely reflects the low use that the flight muscles tend to get in the Galliformes, which generally (although not exclusively) avoid flying if possible.
The fact that the sternum is showing its ventral side and it’s broken in several places, it’s really not feasible to definitively identify it to species based on the available information.
However, I have some additional context, because this piece of bone is actually just a small piece of set-dressing in a diorama from the Dead Zoo, depicting a Peregrine Falcon nest:
In this diorama the Peregrine chicks are being served a tasty portion of Red Grouse:
Since the bones of the Red Grouse would have been removed as part of the taxidermy process, there’s every chance that some of those bones used in the dressing of the diorama may have come from the specimen, although I’m sure there would be plenty of bones from Pheasants and other Red Grouse available in the taxidermy studios of Williams & Sons, where this was made.
So well done to everyone who got as far as Galliformes – I promise it won’t be quite so difficult next time!
This week I have a piece of bone for you to have a go at identifying:
Just the one photo, so not much to go on, but I suspect you’ll be able to figure it out. Bonus points if you can work out where this bone was found. Have fun!
This week, inspired by the discussion of the scapula of the last mystery object, I thought I’d give you this shoulder blade to have a go at identifying:
Any idea which species this came from? I’m interested to hear what you make of this one!
Last week I gave you this specimen from the Dead Zoo to have a go at identifying:
It didn’t take long for Chris Jarvis to drop a great clue to the correct answer, and it seems that overall it was a bit of an easy one for quite a few of you. I admit that I’m not overly surprised by that, since it’s pretty distinctive.
The scapula is long and curved, the humerus is relatively short and robust, the radius and ulna are robust and quite flattened, as are the digits on that wide and splayed-out hand. All of these elements add up to a flipper shape, but unlike the flipper of a cetacean or seal, it has quite short digits.
That’s because this is the left arm of a slow-moving aquatic mammal that plods along under the water (as much as plodding is possible whilst being underwater), rather than a hydrodynamic fast-swimming beastie with a flipper shaped to cut through the water.
There are still a few possible species that fall into this category, but of then all, there is only one with such a curved scapula shape – the Dugong Dugong dugon (Müller, 1776).
I picked this mystery object because it’s from one of several specimens that we’ve been working on recently, in preparation for transport out of the Dead Zoo, as we prepare for a major capital project on the building. The limbs, skull and tail were removed and the vertebrae and ribs stabilised in a structure that we call a “stillage”:
With enough wrapping and packing this specimen will be ready to crane out of the building in the near future, and it’s just one of several thousand specimens that will be making the move. If you’re interested in hearing more about the project, you can listen to an interview I did recently with Sean Moncrieff on NewsTalk.
I hope you enjoyed working out what this limb belonged to, and I suspect that there will be more tales (and possibly tails) from the decant coming up in future posts. Happy Friday!
This week I have a limb for your identification delectation:
Do you have any idea of which animal what this might be from?
As ever, you can leave your thoughts, questions and suggestions in the comments box below. Have fun!
Last week I gave you this specimen to identify, which came to me as an enquiry, after being found in the sea by a fisherman:
I don’t think it posed too much of a challenge, despite some damage, which has left sections looking a bit different to usual for this skeletal element – which is a section of the lower jaw or mandible.
This piece of the mandible includes the ramus (the rear part of the jaw behind the toothline where it rises up), coronoid process (the section of bone that rises up through the inside of the cheekbones, and where the temporalis muscles attach to power part of the action of the jaw) and the mandibular condyle (the hinging articulation point where the lower jaw meets the rest of the skull).
The scale bar shows that it’s fairly large, and the shape of the coronoid process and articular condyle are what I would consider to be quite distinctive to herbivores, since a long ramus isn’t well suited to resisting forces from struggling prey or meat-cutting bites.
From this point I find it’s useful to check an image I prepared earlier (and by earlier, I mean about 10 years ago):
A quick comparison makes it fairly clear that the mystery object is part of the mandible of a Cow Bos taurus Linnaeus, 1758, based mainly on the shape and orientation of the mandibular condyle.
There are of course species that could possibly turn up in Irish waters, that aren’t on my mandibles photo – in particular, Giant Deer, which Ireland seems to have a lot of. However, I have easy access to those specimens in the Dead Zoo and they have a similar mandibular condyle orientation to a Red Deer.
So well done to everyone who worked it out – I hope my explanation of the anatomy of the rear part of the mandible makes sense and maybe offers some pointers for identifications you might be faced with in the future!
Happy Friday everyone!
This week I have a mystery object for you that came in as an enquiry from a regular donor to the Dead Zoo’s collections. It was found by a fisherman in the Irish Sea, just off Howth, which is a lovely seaside village on a peninsula that marks the northern tip of Dublin Bay :
Any thoughts on what it might be? I suspect some of you will have a pretty good idea, so keep your suggestions cryptic if you can, so everyone has a chance to figure it out for themselves. I hope you have fun figuring it out!
I have a potentially perplexing mystery object for you this week from the Dead Zoo. Any idea who this bony character might be?
If you think this is an easy one, then I would be both surprised and impressed, so let me know your thoughts through a crytic clue or two below. Enjoy the challenge!
Last week I gave you this genuine mystery object to identify, from the collections of the Dead Zoo:
As you may have noticed, there is a preliminary identification with the specimen, that lists it as being an unidentified bird humerus from peat at Lough Gur in County Limerick. It’s dated to the Holocene, so nothing that you wouldn’t expect to find around today, at least within the wider European context.
I always maintain that identifications on labels should never be assumed to be accurate – although I’m happy to say that this one is correct.
The humerus is fairly large, which helps narrow down possibilities, but there are areas of damage on the articulations, where some useful features of the bone have been worn away, revealing the honeycomb texture inside the bone:
This sort of damage can often make identifications much more difficult, as it can remove diagnostic features and even change the profile of the bone, making it appear substantially different to the original form – especially where parts of elongated crests of bone have been lost:
When you attempt to identify a bone with this kind of damage, you have to keep in mind that something is missing, which can be very misleading when working from the overall shape. I think this is why many of you went down the route of a bird of prey, such as an eagle species or Osprey.
Generally in terms of an identification, the best option is to rule out the most likely species first – which means anything with a high population density or regular occurence, that frequents the habitat in which the bone was found. In this case my first thought went to waterfowl rather than raptor.
This humerus is too small for something like a swan or large species of goose, and too large for one of the ducks. However, it’s right in the range for one of the smaller goose species, so I took a look through some reference specimens from the genera Anser and Branta.
Of all comparisons, the Barnacle Goose Branta leucopsis (Bechstein, 1803) was very close in size and shape, and where the shape differed it was where there was damage visible to the bone, making it likely that some of the features that seem to be missing were actually there originally but have been abraded away:
I’m still not 100% certain the mystery object is from a Barnacle Goose, but I’m quite confident that if it’s not, it’s from a close relative. I would love to hear your thoughts!
This week I have a genuine mystery object for you from the collections of the Dead Zoo:
Any idea what this bone found in an Irish peat bog might be from?
Last week, I gave you this devilishly difficult genuine mystery object to have a go at identifying:
At first glance, it looks like it should be the occipital (the bone at the very back of the skull) of an Ostrich, or other very large bird. The bone is thin and dense (typical for a bird) and the overall shape and size looks like it might fit. However, none of the details of the bony sutures fit that possibility, for any large bird. Also, this came in as an enquiry, and was almost certaily found in Ireland, making a big bird even less likely,
With birds ruled out, I looked into the mammals. Generally it’s helpful to start with common species, to start ruling out the more frequently encountered species. There are some unfused sutures, so I began with looking at some common large mammals, keeping in mind the developmental differences that occur, making the skulls of juveniles appear quite different to adults of the same species. This is especially the case in relation to skull shape and presence of unfused sutures that can vanish in adults.
Sticking with the occipital, since the shape looks right and several people converged on the same idea (although the species suggested varied quite considerably), for me, the nuchal crest (the area of bone where the ligaments for the neck muscles attach to the back of the head) is very similar in shape to that of a sheep:
This would have been a nice and simple way to wrap things up, but unfortunately I’m still unsure. Mainly this is because the shape doesn’t match so well from other angles:
Of course, this may simply be an artefact of comparing a juvenile animal skull to an adult – so I’ll need to check with a range of specimens of different ages to be more certain.
However, there was also a suggestion of Porpoise (or other cetacean) by Adam Yates and Kat Edmonson came up with an intriguing suggestion that I am quite taken by. It is possible that the raised region is not the nuchal region at all (in Porpoises and many other cetaceans there’s actually a depression rather than a raised ridge in that area of the back of the skull), it may actually mark the junction between two very short nasal bones, a very compressed frontal region and the occipital at the back of a cetacean skull:
Just to help clarify, check out the area labelled 1, 2 and 3 in the image below:
So it may be that I was looking at the bone upside down the whole time. I’ll need to do some more comparisons to narrow down species if that is what it is, but huge thanks to Kat for getting me to see this object from a new perspective!
This week I have a weird mystery object for you to have a go at identifying:
This is a specimen that I came across from a small selection of enquiries I inherited.
I’m still not 100% certain what it is, although I have my suspicions. I’d be keen to know what you think!
You can leave your suggestions in the comments section below – I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts.
Last week I gave you this mystery object to have a go at identifying:
Not the prettiest object perhaps, but I did find it in the gutter on my street, so I think that’s excusable.
This isn’t the most difficult specimen to identify – in fact, I think pretty much everyone should be familiar with it, since it’s probably one of the most commonly found bones in the world.
Chris was the first reply, within 23 minutes of the blog being posted. I was lucky enough to see Chris in Oxford this week, and he confirmed that most of that time was spent coming up with a suitable cryptic clue. And it was a spot on:
Foul! You should of cleaned it first, Paulo (although it is quite funny!)
Chris says: September 1, 2023 at 8:23am
As Chris hinted, this is of course the humerus of a Chicken Gallus domesticus (Linnaeus, 1758).
As I mentioned, this is probably the single most commonly encountered bone you’ll find. There are an estimated 34 billion Chickens alive at any given time, with around 74 billion being slaughtered for food each year, so it’s no surprise that their leg and wing bones accumulate wherever you find people.
In fact, the presence of a high density of Chicken bones in sediments is considered to be one of the features that will help to define the Anthropocene period.
The high density bit is important, since the Red Jungle Fowl has been around for 4-6 million years in Asia at low densities, but with the domestication taking place over 3,500 years ago, Chickens have travelled the globe with Humans, providing eggs and meat for a huge range of cultures.
But it’s not until huge numbers started being reared commercially in the 20th Century that landfills started containing vast numbers of bones from these birds.
Alongside a variety of other materials generated by human activity, from soot to radiactive isotopes dispersed around the globe by nuclear testing, chicken bones are providing a diagnostic features for geologists of the future to recognise the start of the Anthropocene.
So, bravo to Chris, and be sure to remember what this bone looks like, as I’m sure you’ll see plenty of them in future!
