wild animals
Animals the way nature intended it; explore the world of wild animals and the controversies surrounding domestication and hunting of feral beasts.
Best ways to save amphibian species which are presently at risk of extinction
This week, the Unified Countries Panel on Biodiversity declared that human effects are undermining the endurance of almost 1,000,000 species, including 40% of known species, or around 3,200 species. Another review distributed May 6 in the diary Current Science utilizes measurable examination. anticipating that 1,100 types of amphibian and sea-going creatures from the Global Association for Protection of Nature are classified as "information shortage", which decides the condition of preservation of plant and creature land. On the off chance that a worldwide temperature alteration is communicated to all undisclosed classifications, it recommends that no less than 33% of all species are imperiled, implying that 40% of all water species on the planet are compromised with termination (Table 1).
By Shreya Poudel4 years ago in Petlife
The Long Journey
I have empty nest syndrome. I miss my little flutters. Last year, during the pandemic lockdown, I spent more and more time in my garden. I graduated college with a biology degree, though my career has more focused on geology and metallurgy than the organics in the system. Walking among the plants three generations of my family planted gave me a good respite from the constant reminders of mortality.
By Meredith Harmon4 years ago in Petlife
What Budgerigar Birds Experts Don't Want You To Know!
The budgerigar, also known as the for the use of all parakeet or case parakeet, is a tiny, drawn out-tailed, sperm-corrosive poll usually nicknamed the budgie or in American English people, the parakeet. Budgies are the only assemblage in the group Melopsittacus. Naturally, the assemblage is virid and fulvid with swarthy, scalloped markings on the nape, back, and wings. Budgies are bred in confinement with the coloring of dejection, whites, jaundice, greys, and even with tiny crests. Juveniles and chicks are monomorphic, while adults are told apart by their wax coloring and their manner.
By Mohammad Zahidul Islam4 years ago in Petlife
Zoos are sometimes seen as necessary but not poor alternatives to a natural environment
Auckland Zoo, for example, has several breeding programs that allow animals to mate and reproduce. On the other hand, many believe that the conservation of wildlife in zoos is a way to preserve many endangered species. However, there is a debate between people who do not want zoos and their loved ones, and most of them are against zoos because the animals are not healthy enough to be in them and the zoos themselves are not healthy.
By Sonia Shrestha 4 years ago in Petlife
Animals Come Together
Obstinant Buffalo If you would try to get a large number of buffalo to do something they do not wish to do you would discover that buffalo are obstinant. A fact you might not know is that both bison and buffalo in North America are referred to under the term American bison. This is because buffalo can only be found in South Asia and Africa.
By Rasma Raisters4 years ago in Petlife
Prehistoric Shark - Megalodon
Approximately 23.5-36 million years ago, Megalodon’s roamed our vast oceans and is considered to be one of the most feared creatures of all time. With the name translating to ‘Big Tooth’ these creatures could grow 47-67ft long, over double to triple the size of our current Great White Sharks.
By Elizabeth Perks4 years ago in Petlife
Ouch! Stinging Insects
Every summer I look forward to family gatherings, outdoor barbecues and fun by the pool. And every year without fail, wasps seem to get the impression that they’re invited to all of these outdoor functions. Not only am I frightened that the wasp may sting our precious Luna, but wasps pose a serious health risk to our families.
By glpestcontrol4 years ago in Petlife
Raging Bull and the Fence of Destiny
It was the summer break of my Junior year of High School. The sun burned hatefully above the grass and trees as they yellowed slightly from a short-term summer drought that was a nearly annual occurrence. The hay crop had been put up for this cutting. It was too hot to fish. It was too hot to sit in our Southwest Missouri home with no air conditioning. The water in the creek was too low and smelly for swimming. Wandering aimlessly about the farm and through the woods in and out of shade trees and tall grasses was the only solution to a seventeen-year-old boy who was out of gasoline and had nowhere to drive anyway. There was no breeze. The birds did not sing during the daytime, only the mosquitos, grasshoppers and flies buzzed around to fill the air with sound and annoyance. I sang to myself, loudly, in Gospel hymns and country songs to entertain myself. The rabbits and squirrels I encountered would scurry off a short way into the trees then turn and watch and listen with interest. I imagined that they were critiquing my musical ability. I was actually quite talented. I had several singing competition medals 1 and 1+ mostly. There was a 2 that lay on the trophy shelf instead of hanging next to the others. These summers on our little Missouri farm were my favorite thing. I worked hard and lots of hours with no ‘pay’ other than living in my parent’s home. I knew that I was working for their livelihood and my own inheritance. What I would inherit, someday, I would have the satisfaction of knowing I had earned, and I had wandered every inch of it. I knew every tree and shrub. I knew each cow and every wire stay on the fences. This was not some impersonal trust fund, this was my family’s life and sweat, blood and tears, laughter and labor. The cattle were quietly grazing the shady areas of the field along the treeline when I crossed the five-wire fence. At 75” inches tall and weighing more than a newborn calf, I was a big fella to crawl through a fence so I always had to climb over at a corner post. I was not only a singer but was active in football and powerlifting in my small school. Every now and then a calf would run with its tail lifted high, playing an impromptu game of catch with me. I was fast for my size and figured the sprinting practice was helpful, so I raced the young calves and then laughed when they inevitably outran me. I grew up on the farm. I had always been around livestock and never had a bull act aggressively. I ran and played with the calves and the cows lowed with concern for their young as they ran with me, a familiar, but not bovine, sight in the herd. Our red bull that had always been calm, ran past me, grazing my elbow. It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was not playing. Head down to the ground, he spun 180 degrees, kicking up dust with his hooves in the process, to face me. He pawed the ground angrily. I walked slowly, calmly, away from the cows, while keeping this unusually irritated bull in my field of view. I walked at an angle for quite some ways, making it across much of the field. I relaxed and began walking at a normal pace in the direction opposite the livestock. Then I heard thunder. I quickly glanced behind me, barely in time to sidestep the charging bull. He threw his head to try to butt me. I was in the middle of the field, with no safety in sight. I ran. I ran to the fence by the road. Perhaps as he ran past me and realigned trajectory I could get the gate opened. There would be no such luck today. He turned and charged directly behind me and, again, sidestepping him only put him between me and my escape. I turned and ran parallel to the barbed wire barrier. This distanced me from the gate, but I would have no time to unchain it anyway. I could taste my sweat and it dripped from my eyebrows into my eyes, blinding me. The bull wouldn’t give up. I was against the fence. My back was literally against a wall as was possible in a field. Again he charged. I had nowhere left to run. In desperation, I stepped forward and punched him in between his eyes. I take no joy in harming an animal, but I was amazed, and deeply impressed with myself when he fell to the ground and slid past me. The bull lay dazed, panting, blowing bull snot all over the ground. I ran to the gate and loosened the chain. The bull was back to his feet. I left the field and closed the gate. We sold that bull soon after. He charged my dad while we were working cattle. I told my dad of my incident and discovered that there is a soft spot in the head of a cow or bull that only takes a light impact to daze them. All of my teenage bravadoes melted away. I wasn’t super strong, nor was I some sort of natural martial artist. I was lucky.
By litningrod744 years ago in Petlife
