Animal antics: A lesson in child rearing

G’day. My Humble Hero for today is the much despised plover or masked lapwing!

Here’s why. We live near water and I’ve been fascinated by the different ways sea gulls and plovers rear their children.

When the young gull goes somewhere it shouldn’t, mum and dad sit up in our gutter, squawk at the young one to move to safety but no directions or help – as a result the young ones run frantically every which way in panic.

The plovers, by contrast, with outstretched wing, will guide the fledgling to where it should go, and, if it is in danger, will bravely confront the enemy with both wings outstretched to make it look fierce.

But they’re not the only ones to have trouble parenting.

Here’s an extract from a New Scientist article that grabbed my attention: "the little ones, fighting for their mothers’ attention, went into a massive convulsion, literally throwing a fit, throwing themselves at their mothers’ feet, beating, even bashing themselves and banging their heads".

If this sounds like your little chicken then rest easy, it's actually the recorded behaviour of a pelican chicken.

By contrast in the budgie world, the mothers stand for no tantrums, they feed according to a strict roster based on age and size, and the fathers are the soft touch.

As a result, the chicks are orderly when mum's in charge and chaos reigns when dad drops in.

The author of the New Scientist article draws the following inference: "why the male has never been able to evolve an effective strategy against manipulation remains a mystery, though the infrequency with which he feeds the young is one likely reason". Heh, does that ring a bell?

Here’s another interesting observation. Researchers have found that monkey mothers and infants living in captivity display a much lower level of conflict than any of the other monkey species studied in the wild.

And the explanation they give is that in the wild the conflict was often because mum was so busy trying to earn her own crust, that she didn't have enough time to attend to the kids so they pestered and fought and argued and performed until she was forced to notice them.

But in captivity the mother didn't have to spend as much time finding food so she could play with the kids, so they tended to be much more settled.

In other words mums with a bit more spare time in their day had less trouble with the kids.

There was one exception to this rule; when a male came on the scene and mating was in the wind, then the little ones got the cold shoulder and, wild or enclosed, didn't matter, the kids really played up - and no jelly beans tossed out the locked bedroom door could have put them off either.

So why should reflections like these be in a book about memories – I suppose because I think that the pace we’re rearing kids now, and the hours we work and the time on devices the kids have, is causing what the American researchers call, increasing disengagement with our own children – and we will pay a high price for that long term. – in amongst all the hard earned money for devices and toys for kids, I’d have to say that the best thing you can spend on your kids is your time!