Unusually aggressive lone star ticks, common in the south-east, are spreading to areas previously too cold for them

Unusually aggressive lone star ticks, common in the south-east, are spreading to areas previously too cold for them

  • NSRXN@lemmy.dbzer0.com
    41·
    4 days ago

    being in a concentration camp doesn’t give him any expertise on animal cognition. nor ethics. you are certainly falling for a genetic fallacy.

    • Muad'dib@sopuli.xyzEnglish
      32·
      4 days ago

      It’s a thinking being.

      Chickens in factory farms often have to be debeaked, because the stress of being packed in close quarters with hundreds of other chickens, in a tiny cage, standing in its own shit, leads to pecking at other chickens through the bars and autocannibalism. Happy chickens don’t eat themselves alive. You know what self harm means in humans. It means the same thing in chickens. That eating yourself alive is better than living in this environment.

      • NSRXN@lemmy.dbzer0.com
        11·
        4 days ago

        as far as I know, chickens have never been proven to understand personal mortality. if you can point me to a cognitive-behaviorist study that shows otherwise, id be fascinated

        • Muad'dib@sopuli.xyzEnglish
          3·
          4 days ago

          Okay here’s a peer reviewed study on chicken’s intelligence, emotions, understanding, and social bonds. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10071-016-1064-4

          And a quote from Melissa Caughey

          As a hen nears the end of her natural life, she often goes off and finds a quiet place away from the rest of the flock. During this time, the other members of the flock visit, one by one or a couple at a time. To me, they seem sad. They “chat” through verbalizations and body language. They hang their heads low to get on eye level with the dying chicken. Their coos are quiet, soft mutterings that you have to lean into to hear — chicken whispers. They move slowly and cautiously, considerate of disrupting their flock member. Some linger, while others potter around. Some sit with the dying chicken. Some keep returning. I watched some hens try to motivate Tilly by carefully scratching in the coop’s pine shavings right in front of her, as if to say “Get up, please.”
          However, once they have made their peace, they leave and do not turn back. The dying chicken passes alone. The others have returned to doing what the flock does: foraging, scratching, dust bathing, and such. Life goes on.
          Still, for days after a hen dies, it is not uncommon for those who were closest to her to mourn the loss of their friend. From the safety of the coop, they call out, using the same sound that means “Where are you?” when they are free-ranging in the yard and can’t find a missing member of the flock. A grieving hen avoids interacting with the flock and sits in a corner with puffed-up feathers like a chicken that feels ill.
          Some mourn only temporarily, but others never seem to recover from the loss of a flockmate. It is not uncommon for a hen that was close to the departed to suddenly pass unexpectedly, for reasons unknown. She seems to slowly lose her zest for life. Often, of course, she and the deceased hen were close in age and grew up together. I believe chickens can indeed die from broken hearts or, more specifically, from the stress and depression that follow a loss.

          You’re a jerk. Have some empathy. How the fuck can you hear of a living being pecking itself to death in its own shit and think “dumb bird”?

          • NSRXN@lemmy.dbzer0.com
            12·
            4 days ago

            mourning is not, itself, proof of understanding of personal mortality. losing a companion doesn’t indicate they know they, themselves, might die.

            How the fuck can you hear of a living being pecking itself to death in its own shit and think “dumb bird”?

            this characterization has no basis in anything i’ve said.