Wild animal death, funerals, and their human-animal bond effects have much to teach us about our relationships with nature. Even so, I suspect that some might consider a discussion of these topics in bad taste. However, choosing to deny these critical elements in natural animal life cycles devalues animals’ lives and what these have to teach us.
Though some folks may choose to avoid the subject of animal death at all costs or use vague words such as “passing” to soften its reality, studying the dead of one’s own kind almost certainly began eons ago for multiple practical reasons. The more social the species, the greater the need to monitor the health of the individuals in one’s group. Thus paying special attention to any dead animals in the group would play a key role in individual and species survival.
Consider the plight of highly social insects whose living arrangements may include large numbers of insects living is relatively small spaces. The average honey bee hive may host 30,000 residents; yellow jacket nests may shelter 500 to 1500. The average ant colony may claim 100,00 to 500,000 workers plus several hundred winged forms and queens. Then there are the termite colonies with populations that vary from thousands to millions, depending on the species.
With such large populations living in relatively small spaces, the presence of a dead member or uninvited presence may trigger a process called necrophoresis. Though early descriptions of social insect responses to death initially referred to insect funerals and graveyards, later studies revealed that necrophoresis was carried out by more specialized members of the group. Called “undertakers”, it’s their responsibility to remove and dispose of the dead as quickly as possible. This includes members of the group plus any non-members who died within the hive, nest, or colony.
The undertakers’ activities triggered by the death of an animal within the insect home provides several vital survival benefits to the group. Quickly removing dead animals of the same species may lessen any health dangers the deceased animals could pose to the group. Quick action by the undertakers also may help lessen any negative behavioral or bond effects on any surviving group members triggered by any associations with the dead individual. A most familiar example of this is the speedy removal of a vanquished predator who may have killed group members or destroyed parts of their hives or nests. Additionally, the removal of dead animals belonging to the undertakers’ own or an alien species may limit the group’s exposure to novel parasites, bacteria, viruses and other microorganisms to which the group may be vulnerable.
Other behavior/bond responses to dead animals may differ depending on the age, sex, and relationships between those in the group and the dead animal. In matriarchal species such as elephants, killer whales, and dolphins, the death of a newborn may trigger an especially profound response from the birth mother as well as other nanny females. The physiological, behavioral, and bond effects of elevated oxytocin levels most likely play a key role in this process. These and other physiological changes prime the biological mother and the nannies to care for and protect the young. When their infants or young animals die, a disconnect occurs between what the female’s mind-body primes her to do and what she actually can do at that time. How long these behaviors persist in affected animals depends on the magnitude of these physiological and behavioral cues and how long it takes them to wane naturally.
Other times concern about the dead animal’s cause of death as it relates to the group as well as its individual members appears to drive the group’s behaviors. American crows, ravens, and members of some jay species will congregate en masse around dead conspecifics, e.g. members of the same group and species. If the location represents a major food source or nesting site, then ascertaining the safety of the area where the body is found is a primary survival concern. Evidence of predators or other potential threats in these areas also will be explored. Often animals will abandon previously prized food-sources or nesting sites if what they learn from the dead animal’s body makes staying there a nonviable survival option.
The sex and status of the dead animal also may be evaluated during these gatherings. The death of high-ranking adults may trigger different responses from survivors compared to those triggered by the deaths of lower ranking ones. The higher the rank, the more destabilizing the effect the death of that animal may have on the group.
For example, the death of higher-ranking members may signal opportunities for individual animals of lower rank to increase their own status and access to the benefits that accompany their new positions. These benefits may include access to the deceased animals’ mates, territory, and other resources. But until survivors work this out, the group may go through a stressful and unstable period. The more resources and other benefits up for grabs, the more energy survivors may be willing to expend to claim their share of it.
As animal researchers learned more about individual and group behavior as well as their effects on health and physiology and vice versa, it became clear that understanding the role death played in individual and species survival would benefit from a multidisciplinary approach. Thanatology, an interdisciplinary field of human research that includes end-of-life biological, medical, forensic, psychological and social perspectives, seemed like a logical approach for animals too.
As I was thinking about this possibility, I recalled a period during my early teenaged years when it seemed like I spent a great deal of time attending funerals. The combination of my mother’s large family and their living in a large polluted metropolitan industrial area no doubt played a role in that. In retrospect, their behavior and that of their relatives at those funerals was similar to that of crows and members of other species who gather around their dead.
Hot human funeral topics included whether the deceased died in tragic accidents or as the result something contagious. Sharing that information and any important details also could help human survivors (hopefully) avoid the same fate. Key questions those mourners inevitably asked—though usually more tactfully—included: “What did they die of?” “Was it sudden?” “Will the family be OK?” “Will they sell the house?” “Will the kids take over the business?” If the deceased were younger folks who lost a spouse, there might be questions regarding the survivors plans for the future: “Will they remarry?”
Though human interest in these same aspects of wild animal death has existed for eons, its inclusion in modern thanatology is a relatively new addition. This could be because, in First World environments, knowledge of nature and animal behavior may be limited compared to that of those living in more natural settings. Ultimately the purpose of these wild animal gatherings is to answer the question, “What does this death mean to me, to my physical survival and that of my kin and group?” Relative to the meaning of any wild animals’ deaths to us, we’re more likely to turn to science to tell us a) if it poses any danger to us and b) how to avoid it. Lacking that, we may turn to fiction or the media.
In such knowledge-restricted environments, this separation from nature most likely also contributes to the projection of First World human emotions on wild and domestic animal death of all kinds. I have no problem with that and it’s resulted in many eloquent eulogies to animals. Having written many to my own animals over the years, I understand what a comfort these can be in times of animal death.
However, I do think we need to beware of describing how wild animal behave around their same-species dead in strictly emotional terms too. While those elephants truly may be weeping about the death of a newborn or youngster, their milling about also may stir up soil particles or microscopic organisms that irritate their eyes but over time could sicken or kill their vulnerable young animals. Of the two, which interpretation would benefit their group’s survival the most over the long run?
Wild animal death, funerals, and their human-animal bond effects have much to teach us about our relationships with nature. Even so, I suspect that some might consider a discussion of these topics in bad taste. However, choosing to deny these critical elements in natural animal life cycles devalues animals’ lives and what these have to teach us.
Though some folks may choose to avoid the subject of animal death at all costs or use vague words such as “passing” to soften its reality, studying the dead of one’s own kind almost certainly began eons ago for multiple practical reasons. The more social the species, the greater the need to monitor the health of the individuals in one’s group. Thus paying special attention to any dead animals in the group would play a key role in individual and species survival.
With such large populations living in relatively small spaces, the presence of a dead member or uninvited presence may trigger a process called necrophoresis. Though early descriptions of social insect responses to death initially referred to insect funerals and graveyards, later studies revealed that necrophoresis was carried out by more specialized members of the group. Called “undertakers”, it’s their responsibility to remove and dispose of the dead as quickly as possible. This includes members of the group plus any non-members who died within the hive, nest, or colony.
The undertakers’ activities triggered by the death of an animal within the insect home provides several vital survival benefits to the group. Quickly removing dead animals of the same species may lessen any health dangers the deceased animals could pose to the group. Quick action by the undertakers also may help lessen any negative behavioral or bond effects on any surviving group members triggered by any associations with the dead individual. A most familiar example of this is the speedy removal of a vanquished predator who may have killed group members or destroyed parts of their hives or nests. Additionally, the removal of dead animals belonging to the undertakers’ own or an alien species may limit the group’s exposure to novel parasites, bacteria, viruses and other microorganisms to which the group may be vulnerable.
Other behavior/bond responses to dead animals may differ depending on the age, sex, and relationships between those in the group and the dead animal. In matriarchal species such as elephants, killer whales, and dolphins, the death of a newborn may trigger an especially profound response from the birth mother as well as other nanny females. The physiological, behavioral, and bond effects of elevated oxytocin levels most likely play a key role in this process. These and other physiological changes prime the biological mother and the nannies to care for and protect the young. When their infants or young animals die, a disconnect occurs between what the female’s mind-body primes her to do and what she actually can do at that time. How long these behaviors persist in affected animals depends on the magnitude of these physiological and behavioral cues and how long it takes them to wane naturally.
Other times concern about the dead animal’s cause of death as it relates to the group as well as its individual members appears to drive the group’s behaviors. American crows, ravens, and members of some jay species will congregate en masse around dead conspecifics, e.g. members of the same group and species. If the location represents a major food source or nesting site, then ascertaining the safety of the area where the body is found is a primary survival concern. Evidence of predators or other potential threats in these areas also will be explored. Often animals will abandon previously prized food-sources or nesting sites if what they learn from the dead animal’s body makes staying there a nonviable survival option.
The sex and status of the dead animal also may be evaluated during these gatherings. The death of high-ranking adults may trigger different responses from survivors compared to those triggered by the deaths of lower ranking ones. The higher the rank, the more destabilizing the effect the death of that animal may have on the group.
For example, the death of higher-ranking members may signal opportunities for individual animals of lower rank to increase their own status and access to the benefits that accompany their new positions. These benefits may include access to the deceased animals’ mates, territory, and other resources. But until survivors work this out, the group may go through a stressful and unstable period. The more resources and other benefits up for grabs, the more energy survivors may be willing to expend to claim their share of it.
As animal researchers learned more about individual and group behavior as well as their effects on health and physiology and vice versa, it became clear that understanding the role death played in individual and species survival would benefit from a multidisciplinary approach. Thanatology, an interdisciplinary field of human research that includes end-of-life biological, medical, forensic, psychological and social perspectives, seemed like a logical approach for animals too.
As I was thinking about this possibility, I recalled a period during my early teenaged years when it seemed like I spent a great deal of time attending funerals. The combination of my mother’s large family and their living in a large polluted metropolitan industrial area no doubt played a role in that. In retrospect, their behavior and that of their relatives at those funerals was similar to that of crows and members of other species who gather around their dead.
Hot human funeral topics included whether the deceased died in tragic accidents or as the result something contagious. Sharing that information and any important details also could help human survivors (hopefully) avoid the same fate. Key questions those mourners inevitably asked—though usually more tactfully—included: “What did they die of?” “Was it sudden?” “Will the family be OK?” “Will they sell the house?” “Will the kids take over the business?” If the deceased were younger folks who lost a spouse, there might be questions regarding the survivors plans for the future: “Will they remarry?”
Though human interest in these same aspects of wild animal death has existed for eons, its inclusion in modern thanatology is a relatively new addition. This could be because, in First World environments, knowledge of nature and animal behavior may be limited compared to that of those living in more natural settings. Ultimately the purpose of these wild animal gatherings is to answer the question, “What does this death mean to me, to my physical survival and that of my kin and group?” Relative to the meaning of any wild animals’ deaths to us, we’re more likely to turn to science to tell us a) if it poses any danger to us and b) how to avoid it. Lacking that, we may turn to fiction or the media.
In such knowledge-restricted environments, this separation from nature most likely also contributes to the projection of First World human emotions on wild and domestic animal death of all kinds. I have no problem with that and it’s resulted in many eloquent eulogies to animals. Having written many to my own animals over the years, I understand what a comfort these can be in times of animal death.
However, I do think we need to beware of describing how wild animal behave around their same-species dead in strictly emotional terms too. While those elephants truly may be weeping about the death of a newborn or youngster, their milling about also may stir up soil particles or microscopic organisms that irritate their eyes but over time could sicken or kill their vulnerable young animals. Of the two, which interpretation would benefit their group’s survival the most over the long run?