How Animals Dress Themselves
Every child who sees a cat licking her fur knows she is making her toilet, yet but few persons realize how universal this custom of attending to personal cleanliness seems to be among dumb creatures. Some spend more time upon it than others, and different creatures emphasize different parts of their duty in this regard,—just as some men are particular about their shoes, and others about their hats,—but nearly all seem to have an idea of what is tidy and proper. In an article contributed to the Volta Review (Washington, March), under the title that we use at the head of this article, Enfield Joiner writes as follows of some animal toilets:— “Most people suppose that when an animal wakes up, it is all ready for the day’s fun or the day’s work, but in the case of most animals this is a mistake. They, too, have to dress themselves, and though dressing for them consists only of some kind of bath and of smoothing down and arranging their feathers and furs, a great many animals are not satisfied with themselves until they have done that. Some of them are very shy, and seek the loneliest spots early in the morning; others, like the pet dog and cat, will spend hours dressing themselves on the hearth-rug. “Birds are perhaps the neatest members of the animal world. A great many birds must have a bath every day. Some birds use water and some use dirt, and some use both water and dirt. The bathers in water are very particular about the kind of water they use. Everybody who has ever watched a pet canary will remember how it would refuse to plunge in unless the water and the bath-tub were perfectly clean, and also how, when nobody seemed to be watching, it would first take its bath, arrange its feathers, and then eat the fresh seeds that had been given it for breakfast. Swallows and martins do not bathe every day, because the only water which they will use is fresh rain-water. Tame ducks, too, seem very fond of the rain-water. When a shower falls, they ruffle up their feathers and let the rain soak in. Afterward they smooth themselves down carefully, using an oil which their bodies contain, in order to get the perfectly smooth and even effect in dress which they desire. Wild ducks that live by the salt sea, will fly long distances over the land to get fresh water for their bath. “The birds that use earth baths are very careful about the kind of soil they use. Larks and sparrows choose fine, dry, gritty dust. They splash and flutter in it as other birds do in the water, and after they have finished, they carefully dress their rumpled plumage with their bills. Partridges clean themselves in loam. They scratch out the dirt and shuffle backward in it until their feathers are full of it. Then they shake themselves, and when fully dressed are as clean and fresh as any lady stepping from a white-tiled bath-room. The barnyard hen bathes herself in much the same way, by wallowing and shaking herself in the dust.” Animals of the cat tribe, Mr. Joiner tells us, spend more time than any others at their toilets. In the jungle, lions and tigers use their forefeet, which they wet, for bath-sponges, and their tongues for combs, just as small kittens do. Rabbits and opossums also wash their faces with their feet. Dogs, too, dislike dirt. An experienced hunter has said that whenever his dogs fail to clean themselves on bushes or grass after a day’s hunt, he knows that they are very tired. Dogs are especially particular in keeping their feet clean. The writer goes on to say:— “Almost everybody has seen a horse and a cow in a field together taking turns licking each other. The general belief is that the two are great friends, and that that is their way of showing their love for each other. That is not altogether true. They may be friends, but they are merely helping each other dress. I know one horse and cow which have lived in the same lot for several years. The horse is a spoiled and petted creature. In some way she persuades the cow to clean her glossy coat for her, but she has never been seen doing anything for the cow. “The daintier animals of the forest—the giraffe, the deer, the antelope—always assist one another. Mr. Cornish, an Englishman, tells about one giraffe in a zoo in London which, when put into the zoo, at once washed itself all over and made its coat glossy and bright everywhere except on its neck. As the weeks went by, the neck became several shades darker than the body, because the poor thing could not reach it with its tongue. “The larger insects, ants, and bees not only bathe themselves, but help one another. A wasp, though, must depend on herself. A naturalist once smeared the wings and body of a wasp and of a bee with honey and set them free. Other bees at once came to the aid of their sister; but, although others of her kind were flying all about, the poor wasp was left all alone in her misery. The naturalist had finally to put her into a bottle of water and cleanse her. “Rats are considered very dirty, but so far as they themselves are concerned they are not. They wash and brush themselves like cats. Water-rats especially are very clean. “The more we study about animals, the more we come to see that they have human traits and habits. In this matter of neatness and cleanliness they could teach some persons a lesson.”—Literary Digest, April 13, 1912.