The power of poo
ANIMAL POO
With a bit of probing, faeces can reveal fascinating, hidden information about an animal’s diet, territory and population size
IN THE DISTANCE they are distinctive, through binoculars they are impressive, but up close they are magnificent. As they sail the air, great galleons navigating the updraughts along the cliff line, they pass within a giant winglength of my perch, turning their wizened heads to offer me a glistening, ancient eye. They appear so big that I’m tempted to leap on board and ride them, Avatar-style, out over their Chilean dominion.
Such fantasies aside, Andean condors are a special bird. I studied their form in my childhood encyclopaedias and had always dreamed of such an encounter.
On their second flyby they are higher, and as I squint into the sky and a colossal silhouette eclipses the sun, a shower of glistening drops explodes beneath the tail, floats and falls. Within a second, a drop plops on my cheek and I smile – asmile that radiates through my entire body and makes me fizzle with elation. I’ve just been pooed on by one of the greatest creatures on Earth.
It’s the connection. Something longlingering from those childhood yearnings and a maybe peculiar sense of romance means I like to be in gentle physical contact with wildlife, even indirectly. I can’t ride the condor, but its poo – something that has passed through this super bird – has, for a moment, joined us together. Maybe this eccentricity is an artifact of hyper-fandom, like getting splashed with Elvis’s sweat in Vegas and never wanting to wash. (Some of the poo splashed onto my trousers, and I did wash them, but it stained. So cool!)
MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH POO began in 1979. I would spend my weekends diligently scooping samples of badger excrement from the latrines of two distinct populations, and then spend my evenings meticulously examining these samples through a microscope.
I learned where the animals had foraged and exactly what they had eaten. But the main point of this poo quest was to record the abundance of earthworm chetae – tiny hairs that cover the worms’ bodies – in every individual turd. For 182 evenings, while my peers were out partying, I was sifting through badger faeces.
Since then, I have had many other memorable encounters with excrement. I’ve had a bald eagle extensively decorate a brand new camera backpack; I’ve knelt in the sand of the Galápagos Islands to scoop the poop of Lonesome George, the last surviving Pinta Island tortoise; and I’ve inhaled otter spraint so hard that I felt dizzy.
Poo, you see, can tell us an awful lot. The first and most obvious benefit is that if you know who it belongs to, you know who has been there. For nocturnal, rare or very elusive species, such a sign of presence can be useful to science and conservation.
But poo can tell us plenty more still. It is packed with information about diet, about territory, about population dynamics. And there is a wealth of sensational, cutting-edge poo science that is helping us to unravel all of this information, enabling us to better understand and conserve rare species. It’s ironic, really, that many species in deep doodoo are finding a way out of it thanks to what exits their anus.
Snow leopards are one such example. These cats are legendarily tough to see, let alone count, but researchers have been able to throw some light on the real abundance of these felines in parts of Nepal by carrying out DNA analysis on their poo. In one study, 81 scat samples were identified as the products of 34 snow leopards. Using mathematical modelling, the researchers were then able to establish that the species’ density was 0.95 animals per 100km2. This figure was much lower than previous estimates, which had probably counted the same animals twice.
“For 182 evenings, while my peers were out partying, I was sifting through badger faeces”
Studies of snow leopard scat are also giving important data on their diet. Because, rather obviously, what comes out the back end indicates what has gone in the front. In 2017, scientists collected samples of 182 snow leopard scats from an area of more than 500km² – aprocess that took about five months. They left half the material in situ to allow these important territorial markers to do their smelly work, then studied the hair samples from any identifiable prey remains.
After hours peering into microscopes, they discovered that overall, the snow leopard’s poo comprised 73 per cent prey of wild origin and 27 per cent prey of domestic animals. Bharal and Himalayan tahr – both cliff-dwelling ungulates – dominated the diet, their remains appearing in 57 per cent of the scat. The scientists also discovered that females had a higher proportion of wild ungulates and males a higher proportion of livestock in their diets. Given the ongoing and serious human-wildlife conflict that threatens the survival of the snow leopard, this fascinating finding could play a vital role in how future interventions can be made.
AND THERE’S MORE. YES, SNOW leopard poo never stops giving. Another poo study published in 2017 revealed that there are, in fact, three distinct subspecies of snow leopard: Panthera uncia uncia in Central Asia; Panthera uncia unciodies on the Tibetan Plateau and the core Himalayan Mountains; and Panthera uncia irbis, in the southern Gobi Desert and Mongolia’s Altai Mountains. The study also revealed that the species underwent a population bottleneck about 8,000 years ago, when numbers fell as Earth’s temperature increased. It suggests climate change may pose a serious threat to snow leopards.
“The anti-pathogenic properties of insect faeces may prove useful in human medicine”
I know what you’re thinking: ‘animal poo might be great for people in lab coats, but it plays no part in my life’. You could be wrong. In a world where we are increasingly faced with multi drug-resistant infections, such as MRSA, stoking fears of an antibiotic apocalypse, the anti-pathogenic properties of insect faeces may yet prove useful in human medicine.
Termite gut bacteria produce centrin, a protein that could have a function in anticancer drugs, while the pharmacological properties of silkworm poo can have analgesic and anti-inflammatory applications in herbal medicine. The larval excrement of the Mediterranean flour moth exhibits antimicrobial activity against a broad spectrum of harmful bacteria, and many social insects such as ants incorporate toilets in their nest and meticulously fill them with poo because the bacteria in it may actually protect them from pathogens. So, poo may rescue you!
EXCREMENT HAS MANY wondrous and remarkable qualities and uses. It’s a known territorial marker – many species use poo to defend their patch. Badgers fiercely protect their territories with specially dug latrines in which clan members leave their firm, sausage-shaped deposits, each laden with its own particular scent. Grey wolves poo strategically at locations such as crossroads where other wolves travel, increasing the effectiveness of their excrement as olfactorary markers. They also target specific plants – those that are conspicuous, and that grow to ‘wolf anus’ height. When wolves poo, they think it through.
All animals have to defecate, but some do it with the utmost drama and spectacle. Chinstrap and Adélie penguins famously expel their poo along a horizontal trajectory, an adaptation that presumably evolved so that the birds don’t defecate on their own doorsteps. But attempting to avoid their own patches means they just poo all over those of their neighbours, and all over each other, and all over any photographer seeking to capture the action (as I experienced on a visit to Half Moon Island, Antarctica, in 2009).
Humboldt penguins are prize projectionists. They may be only 71cm tall, but these diminutive birds can generate enough poo-propelling energy to send their streaky turds flying at nearly 8kmph, landing them up to 134cm away. That is the equivalent of an adult human shooting their poo more than 3m.
The bald eagle is another bird with remarkable pooing powers – their droppings have the capacity to cause power cuts. The first recorded incident of this occurred in Los Angeles in 1923, when the network suffered a spate of blackouts due to ‘flashovers’ – bolts of artificial lightning formed as electricity shoots between the live lines and the metal support towers.
As it turned out, eagle turds were frying the grid. The birds used the towers as perching posts, and the jets of poo they squirted on take-off carried the 220,000- volt current from wire to tower, causing a short circuit. In spite of barriers, spikes and excrement-catching pans, the problem hasn’t gone away. This is excrement gone electric!
Yes, poo is exciting. Recently, my nasal sensitivities were put on full alert because I got to sniff some new poo. I’d been with David Barclay and the Saving Wildcats team from the Royal Zoological Society of Scotland, working on the captive breeding and release of these enigmatic icons into Scotland, and I had a honk of some fresh faeces. Its aroma is distinctive, not too unpleasant – nothing like that of an otter, badger, fox or marten poo. This poo is special – in fact it’s very special, because it comes out of the UK’s rarest mammal. And I can now recognise its scent!
So, next time you stumble across something brown and squishy on the ground, give it a second look or even a sniff. Whether it’s the fishy faecal treat of an otter on a riverside rock or the lovely little dropping of a hedgehog adorning the edge of its highway, you never know what you might learn.
FANTASTIC FAECES
Top poo science!
Dung studies can uncover exciting animal facts
Lynx
A study of lynx poo in Turkey, from 2013 to 2015, found that these cats pooed more in the mating season and used territory borders as toilets. The research also revealed that the lynx pooed predominantly on a non-spiny species of juniper – probably for the comfort of their bottoms. Further studies on feline faeces here have revealed that females stay in their home ranges, while males disperse.
Giant tortoise
Ecuador’s Galápagos Islands host many different species of giant tortoise, each of which inhabits a specific island or volcano. A 2015 study on tortoise turds revealed that each species carries a unique fauna of parasitic worms in its gut. Just as the turtles diversified as they spread across the archipelago, so did their parasites.
King penguin
In 2019, researchers discovered that king penguin guano contains high levels of nitrous oxide (used as a recreational drug called laughing gas). The penguins feed principally on fish and krill, which are nitrogen-rich. Once digested and excreted as poo, the nitrogen is absorbed into the ground where soil bacteria convert it into nitrous oxide.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chris Packham is a naturalist and TV presenter. His latest publication, Chris Packham’s Full of S**t Calendar 2023, offers top turds and faecal facts for every month of the year (£20; chrispackham.co.uk).