This week I have another bony mystery object for you:
This one is currently on display in the beautiful Words on the Wave exhibition at the National Museum of Ireland on Kildare Street, but the focus is on the inscription on the bone, rather than the species the bone came from:
So, I’d love to hear your thoughts on what this is? Have fun with it!
The last mystery object proved to be quite difficult, but I gave some pointers on helping with parrot identification, and I thought it might be fun to try another Psittaciform this week:
I suspect this might prove to be a bit of an easier bird to identify, so I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts on what it might be. Have fun!
Last week I gave you a bit of tricky mystery object in the form of this colourful character:
Obviously it’s a parrot of some sort, but there are LOTS of parrots. With over 400 species to choose from, identifying one from a single image is not easy at all. Generally when it comes to parrot identification it’s very useful to know where it came from, and without that information this mystery is made even harder – but if I’d provided the locality it would have been way too easy!
I find a useful way to narrow down possible species when looking at parrots is to simply use a search engine and add descriptive terms of the colours of parts of the external anatomy. In this instance I searched for “parrot with emerald green wings, blue and purple chest” which offered up a few possible species, but it significantly narrowed down the options to work through. Of course, I did that with some awareness of colours likely being a little off.
This is a specimen that arrived in the Dead Zoo in 1902 and it’s been progressively fading due to light exposure over the last 120+ years. The purples here are muted and I suspect the blue visible on the breast is actually residual following preferential colour loss of red pigments (types of carotenoid) that would have interacted with the structural blue colour of the feather (structural colours being much more light-stable than pigments) to create a much more vivid and robust purple colour than we see today. With that in mind, it becomes much easier to work out what this species is.
This is the Dominican Amazon (or Imperial Amazon, or Sisserou) Amazona imperialis Richmond, 1899 – one of just three species of parrot from the Commonwealth of Dominica, an Island in the Carribean. Here’s an illustration of what it looks like when it’s not faded:
This species features on the flag of the Commonwealth of Dominica and sadly there are very few of these stunning birds remaining, with estimated numbers somewhere between 40 and 60 mature individuals – making it Critically Endangered.
While numbers had been declining due to habitat loss, hunting and the taking of wild birds for the pet trade, the population has been significantly impacted by severe hurricanes hitting the island – which are increasing in frequency and severity due to climate change.
Hopefully, conservation efforts and the relatively inaccessible mountaious areas of the island in which the birds live will allow them a chance to recover, but they breed slowly and the threat from hurricanes remains.
Well done to everyone who had a go at this – it really was very difficult, so props to Katenockles who came close with a suggestion of the Blue-headed Parrot. Of course, there were lots of comments that referenced the infamous Norwegian Blue, which for younger readers might be unfamiliar, so here’s the source:
Just to note, while there are no parrots known from Norway, there are some fossil examples known from Denmark – so perhaps there is a chance the Norwegian Blue actually existed – albeit 55 million years ago,
Last week I gave you a close up of a specimen from the Dead Zoo to have a go at identifying:
I don’t think this proved too much of a challenge, since Chris Jarvis responded with a correct identification within the hour:
This one’s sent me into a spiral, kudyu show a bit more,. bucky? chrisjarvise8da89e10d says: July 18, 2025 at 8:44 am
In case you missed the cryptic clues here (after all, I suspect that not everyone is as much of an antelope aficionado as Chris), this is a male Greater Kudu Tragelaphus strepsiceros (Pallas, 1766).
These handsome, large, spiral-horned antelopes have a distinctive white chevron that runs between their eyes – presumably the clue that Chris spotted to identify this specimen so quickly.
There are other species in the Genus Tragelaphus that look similar to the Greater Kudu, but they have different colouration and subtly different patterns on their faces.
I had the photo of this specimen because I’ve been working with my colleagues in the National Museum of Ireland team on getting objects ready for display at another of our Dublin sites called Collins Barracks. Obviously this is one of those objects.
The Dead Zoo has been closed since last September, while we’ve been emptying the space of collections for a major and much needed refurbishment. Of course, we want to make some of the collection available to the public while the Dead Zoo is closed, hence the work we’re doing now.
However, the display we’re working on is a bit weird – but it’s not intended to be an exhibition. I want it to be more of an iterative experiment for myself and my team to work out how we’re going to deal with redisplaying and interpreting the collections when the refurbishment works are done and we reopen the main Dead Zoo building on Merrion Street.
We’re calling the temporary display the “Dead Zoo Lab”, because of the experimental approach we plan to take. We want to involve the public in a conversation about how what we’re doing works for our audiences. I’m excited to see how we can build dialogue in this space to help inform our work over the next few years.
I am getting a bit ahead of myself though, as we still need to finish installing objects over the next week or so, before we can open the doors to the public. Once we get to that stage I’ll be sure to share some photos of the space for the Zygoma community – and I’ll be excited to hear your thoughts!
Last week I gave you a close-up of an object that caught my attention when visiting a friend who works at the Natural History Museum, Denmark:
The original image I had gave a bit too much information to make this a challenge, so I have to admit to doing some judicious cropping, and I wasn’t sure if this was going to be an easy or difficult one,
It turns out I made just difficult enough for most people to get in wrong, but there was one correct answer, from Katenockles on Mastodon:
Here’s my original photo:
As you can see, this is part of the antler of a Reindeer Rangifer tarandus (Linnaeus, 1758) that still bears the velvet, which is the hairy outer layer of skin covering various layers of tissue. These include the perichondrium and periosteum, which surround and protect the cartilage and bone being grown by highly vascularised mesenchyme tissue and specialised cells such as chondrocytes and osteoblasts. These cells create a scaffold of cartilage that becomes mineralised to form the bone that makes up the antler.
This mechanism for antler growth is really impressive, since it allows these strong and sometimes very large bony structures to develop in around 6 months – sometimes growing over 7cm a week when good nutrition is available.
This specimen was of particular interest for me, as I’ve never had the opportunity to see an example of the velvet up close. Normally my interactions with antlers involve historic museum specimens taken as trophies during the hunting season, or fossil examples – like this impressive specimen from the Pleistocene of Ireland:
Thanks to everyone for their suggestions – I can certainly see why kangaroos and camels were suggested, and I’m a bit surprised that nobody suggested Platypus, as that was my immediate thought. Finally, very well done to Katenockles for working it out!
This week I have a fuzzy mystery object for you to identify:
Any idea what this colourful little critter could be? I look forward to hearing your thoughts, questions and suggestions in the comments section below. Have fun!
This week I have another guest mystery object for you from regular contributor Andy Taylor FLS FBNA:
Image by Andy Taylor FLS FBNA, 2025
Image by Andy Taylor FLS FBNA, 2025
Image by Andy Taylor FLS FBNA, 2025
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!
This week I have another guest mystery object for you, found on a beach by the family of one of my museum colleagues:
Image by Andrew Brady, May 2025Image by Andrew Brady, May 2025Image by Andrew Brady, May 2025Image by Andrew Brady, May 2025Image by Andrew Brady, May 2025
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!
Last week I gave you this guest mystery object to try identifying, from the collection of Andy Taylor FLS FBNA:
Andy had brought this particular specimen along to the NatSCA Conference, which was held in the Manchester Museum this year. It’s not the only one he brought – there were several fantastic specimens from his incredible collection, my favourite being the Bathynomus Giant Marine Isopod:
Me holding a Giant Marine Isopod from Andy Taylor’s collection
It was great to see these specimens, and it’s surprisingly rare to be able to see specimens like this at a conference these days, since UK museums have very strict controls on how accessioned collections are transported and used, which can make it hard to support use in outreach. While this is good for the care of the collections, it does reduce their ability to be used to educate and inspire.
Andy doesn’t have this limitation, since the specimens are from his own collection, which has been built up over 40 years of interest in natural history and through a network of contacts researching life in the deep seas and a variety of other environments. Andy does this because he’s passionate about nature, and his collection is available for use for research, loans to support exhibitions, and use in training and outreach activities.
Many natural history collections in museums came from the activities of passionate naturalists like Andy – in fact quite a lot of local and regional museums in the UK were originally founded to house the collections of local naturalist organisations, that sprung up to support the learning of working people who didn’t have the opportunity to follow an academic route into the natural sciences, but who made huge contributions to our understanding of local biodiversity in the areas in which they were active. These people were true amateurs – doing this work for the love of it, rather than for profit.
Various organisations still support the activities of passionate naturalists (both amateur and professional), such as the British Naturalists’ Association and the Linnean Society of London (of which I am a Fellow) and I think they have huge value for furthering our understanding of natural science and supporting the activities of taxonomists and conservationists who do the vital work needed to protect our threatened natural world.
However, none of this offers an answer to last week’s mystery object, so let’s get to that.
The photos I provided weren’t great, but that didn’t stop the Zygoma regulars from figuring it out. Chris Jarvis indicated that it was a type of mussel, Sallie Reynolds got the clue I offered in last week’s post (“you may need to dive deep to work it out”) and figured it was from very deep in the ocean, and Adam Yates suggested the wrong species in the right genus, and then dialled in on the correct species after a helpful comment from Andy.
This is a specimen of Bathymodiolus thermophilus Kenk & Wilson, 1985 a type of mussel that lives around hydrothermal vents. This particular specimen was collected at a depth of 2.2km from a hydrothermal vent on the East Pacific Rise by Alvin Deep-Submergence Vehicle (DSV) as part of research by the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution.
Alvin DSV in action. Photo credit: NOAA, August 1978
The distribution of specimens like this to a variety of people and organisations is an important activity, since it helps ensure examples of species can be made more available for interested parties around the globe – decentralising collections so local events (from earthquakes to funding cuts by anti-science governments) stand less chance of taking specimens out of circulation for research into our global biodiversity.
I would like to offer up my thanks to Andy – his support for this blog has always been enthusiastic and I appreciate it greatly!
This week I have a guest mystery object for you, from the collection of Andy Taylor FLS FBNA – a regular contributor of specimens to the blog, and this year a fellow attendee of the Natural Sciences Collections Association conference, which is taking place in Machester at the moment – but more about that when I come to the answer next week.
For now, here’s the object:
Let me know if you can figure out what it is – I appreciate that the photography of the specimen makes this a bit more of a challenge, so you may need to dive deep to work it out. Have fun!
Last week I gave you a particularly mean mystery object to try to identify:
This would be difficult if it was an accurate representation of the eye of the living animal, but I suspect it’s pretty much impossible (unless you’re familiar with this specimen), considering how different this eye appears from the eye of the actual animal. This is something that katedmonson spotted and commented on:
The problem I can “see” with this eye is that we are relying on the skill of the taxidermist to have correctly chosen the exact correct glass eye: pupil, color, shape of the iris, for the animal is is supposed to represent. And did the preparer accidentally strip the eye of any eyelashes, (sus scrofa as many have indicated) or does this animal not have any. Which is fairly unusual as far as ‘eyes’ go. Unless it was cetacean, which the fur would indicate it is not. Not seal either.
Kat made the point I was planning on making when I chose this mystery object – the eyes of taxidermy specimens are a choice made by the taxidermist who does the preparation, and that choice might be accurate – or it might not be. However, there is one point Kat makes that isn’t quite on point – this is in fact a type of seal:
This is a Hooded Seal Cystophora cristata (Erxleben, 1777) – a species that I have talked about before on the blog, in fact I think the specimen I used in that instance may have been the skull that came from this taxidermy example:
I should probably offer my apologies at this point, for going with such a difficult mystery object, but sometimes it’s nice to pose a puzzle that even the crack community of commenters on the blog have trouble with. Thanks to you all for your thoughts on this – I hope the search for an answer wasn’t too frustrating!
Last week I gave you this genuine mystery object to have a go at identifying:
This came to light when we were clearing out cupboards in the Dead Zoo, and it may have been an ill-considered option, considering how tricky vertebrae can be to narrow down to species and how little time I’ve had to research this particular specimen.
I was hoping that someone in the comments might spot something I’d missed, and Adam Yates certainly spotted everything I’d noted from my inspection of the specimen:
Clearly birdy (pneumatic foramina and saddle-shaped posterior centrum face). The odd short anterior of the pair is probably the axis, and the one behind, Ce 3. I can’t do better than that right now, but will return to this puzzle later…
He also added a useful comment about size which I hadn’t really considered fully:
…The first few cervical vertebrae of birds are surprisingly small and I judge this axis to be about 25 – 30 mm across the postzygapophyses, using Paolo’s thumbnail as scale. That would suggest a raft of large species. I’m going to guess this one rhymes with “he knew”.
I’m assuming that’s a reference to Emu, and the size of the vertebrae certainly seem to be in the right size range (at least according to this paper by Baranowski et al, from 2018). However, I’m not entirely convinced that the shape is quite right, Rheas might be a little more similar, and there was a hint at a pouched animal by katedmonson, which I suspect is a reference to a Pelican.
I think these are a little bit too short for a Pelican, but I’ll certainly keep that identification in mind as I try to find where these came from. However, without spending a good bit more time trying to find comparative specimens, it’s going to be a challenge. It may be that the easiest way to work out what this is will be to search for a large mounted bird skeleton that’s missing these vertebrae, since there are not too many such specimens in the Dead Zoo.
But before I start a wider search, I have a hunch that I want to check out. There is a King Vulture specimen that I’ve blogged about previously (way back in 2018) that is large and consists of a partially dismounted skeleton. I think I’ll make that my first port of call, as (if memory serves) it has similar levels of soot build up on the bones, and I suspect it’s in the right sort of size range, as vultures have fairly large and robust cervical vertebrae for their size.
So my thanks to everyone for their suggestions and observations – if I eventually discover the identity of these bones I’ll be sure to update this post, and if you think you know what it is, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Oh, and if you celebrate Easter, I hope you have a great one!
Last week I gave you this extreme close-up of a specimen from the Dead Zoo to have a go at identifying:
Only providing this would probably have been unforgivably mean, so I also provided an image with less detail and little bit more context:
Clearly this provided plenty of information, since several of you managed to work out what this spatula-shaped appendage was from. In fact, the spatulate shape is so distinct it’s incorporated into the animal’s name.
Adam Yates was the first to comment correctly, identifying that this is the rostrum of the American Paddlefish Polyodon spathula (Walbaum, 1792). Here’s a photo of the complete specimen:
It’s a fairly small example of this wonderfully unusual fish, as on average they weigh in at 60lb (27kg) and measure 5ft long (about 1.5m). I call them unusual because they do things differently to most other fish.
For starters, they’re from a very small family of fish that contains just themselves and a handful of sturgeon species. This family have heterocercal tails like sharks, and cartilaginous skeletons like sharks, but they’re actually bony fish that have become less bony.
They also have that distinctive spatulate rostrum (presumably constructed from little interlocking rays of cartilage based on the detailed photo), which looks more like the bill of a Spoonbill bird or a dabbling duck than the slashing blade that other fish species with an extended rostrum tend to have. However, the rostrum isn’t part of the jaw, and it can’t function in the same way as similar shaped structures in birds. Instead it serves a function in electroreception – picking up the tiny electrical signals from the muscle movements of clouds of planktonic crustaceans. Oh, did I mention that they’re freshwater filter feeders?
The name Polydon suggests to me that the species should have many teeth, and while this may be true for the tiny juvenile stages, the adults have no teeth at all – although the name probably relates to the large number of gill-rakers that are used to capture prey.
Another odd thing is that it’s only the American Paddlefish that filter feeds – the Chinese Paddlefish (which was recently declared extinct) fed on things like fish and crabs and had a totally different feeding mechanism that was much more similar to a Sturgeon.
Sadly, the American Paddlefish is at risk of going the way of its Chinese cousin due to overfishing and exploitation of their eggs for caviar. This would be a real loss, as they represent a fascinating example of how evolution is happy to play fast and loose with our expectations based on nearest relatives and shared ancestry.
This week I have a nice mystery object for you from the Dead Zoo to have a go at identifying:
It may not be the most festive looking object, but it is embedded in a piece of pine, and that’s about as festive as I can manage. Any idea what it is?
Last week I hit the 500th mystery object milestone, with this skeleton from the collections of the Dead Zoo to identify:
This specimen came to us from the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland, and Emma Murphy, our curator responsible for the terrestrial zoology collections has been checking the identification. At the moment this is listed as being a “Baboon”, but there are 5 (maybe 6) species of baboon – so which could it be?
Just to complicate matters, Emma suspects that this may be a specimen referred to in an 1834 catalogue as a “pig-tailed baboon”, which may be where the “Baboon” listing came from. That’s not a recognised species anymore, they’re now called Southern Pig-tailed Macaques – or Northern Pig-tailed Macaques, since the Pig-tailed Macaques were split a decade or so ago.
Looking at the anatomy is always a good place to help work these issues out, but that requires comparative material – which is never as easy to find as you might like. However, there are some useful resources out there. A particularly good one is the Mammalian Crania Photographic Archive, and there are other useful sites like Skullbase and the Animal Diversity Web.
Looking through these various resources it becomes a bit easier to start picking out features to assist with identification, but it takes a bit of work and close scrutiny of a lot of different individuals within each species, to get a better idea of variation.
In profile the mystery specimen has relatively small canines and no sagittal crest, which suggests it’s a female. The face (or rostrum) is quite long, which rules out a lot of Macaque species, especially since the females tend to have shorter faces than males, and the females only develop the longer face when they are fully mature.
However, the baboons all have very long faces (even the females), so this specimen seems a little short for some of them. The Chacma Baboon is the closest I could find in proportion, but when viewed from above, the mystery specimen doesn’t seem to have the extremely well-defined cheek ridges that stand out in all baboon skulls (here’s a link to an example from the Animal Diversity Web).
Good cheekbones, but not the razor-ridges seen in baboons
After considerable comparison, the skull of the mystery specimen looks most similar to the skull of a Southern Pig-tailed Macaque featured on the Mammalian Crania Photographic Archive, although I feel that I want to look a little more closely at the confiuration of the nasal bones in relation to the frontals before making a final call, since photographs can sometimes be misleading.
My thanks to everyone for your suggestions – there were plenty that all fell in the same general area of the monkey family tree, with baboons and macaques all being suggested. Your thoughts helped me narrow down a list of likely candidates and on balance I suspect this is most likely the Southern (or possibly Northern) Pig-tailed Macaque specimen that Emma found the old entry for in the catalogue. It would probably have been much easier to figure out if the tail had survived intact!
Hopefully I’ll see you here next week for mystery object #501!
Well, this is a bit of a milestone – the 500th mystery object. Over 15 years’ worth of weekly posts, sharing some of the interesting objects that I’ve come across in my work, as a curator, or that have been shared with me by other people with a fascination with the natural world (particularly zoology).
This week I have a specimen from a new contributor to the blog, Emma Murphy, who is part of my curatorial team at the Dead Zoo (I’m still finding it hard to believe that I have a curatorial team!)
This specimen came to us from the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland and we think it probably dates back to the 1830’s. As such, the identification that accompanies it is extremely out of date, so this specimen is in need of reidentification:
So, do you have any idea which species this skeleton might be from? As always, you can leave your thoughts in the comments box below – I hope it proves a fun challenge!