The First Zoologist and His Lost Work
What's In a Name? A Rose Hair Tarantula By Any Other Name ...
Photo by Thomas Millot from unsplash.com
Adam had a fun job. He was assigned to name the animals. He was the first Zoologist. Of course, as beauty is in the eye of the beholder, whether a job is entertaining is in the heart and brain of the worker. Did Adam find it fun? There is no record either way. Many of us, I suppose, would find such a task enjoyable. Imagine being able to spend your days on the riverbanks, in the meadows, the forests, and in the mountains, observing your fellow creatures.
We don’t know, though, what names Adam gave the animals. Since then, speakers of various languages have come up with their own monikers for the beasts. Many of these names are Latin-based, and so, for those of us who don’t know Latin (alas! the days when Latin and Greek were taught to scholars in the nation’s halls of education has been lost to the mists of antiquity!), they are just sounds, conveying no meaningful description of the animal’s appearance or behavior.
OTOH, some have assigned descriptive names to animals. For example, in German, an Armadillo is a “belted animal,” a Raccoon a “wash bear” (because it washes its food before eating it), a Guinea Pig a “little sea pig” (because it accidentally emigrated to other countries aboard ships), a turtle a “shielded Toad,” a Hippopotamus a “River Horse,” a Rhinoceros a “Nose Horn,” and so forth.
But what about collective names for animals? Most of us are familiar with a pack of dogs, a gaggle of geese, a flock of seagulls (the bread maniacs, not the musical band), a yoke of oxen and a pod of dolphins maybe, etc., but there are other collective names for critters which make plain that the christeners were having fun. Sometimes the names bequeathed are logical, but oftentimes they’re whimsical, or even zany.
Here is a sample subset of such:
A float of Alligators
A swarm of Ants
A hive of Bees
An obstinacy Buffaloes
A flutter of Butterflies
A wake of Buzzards
A mewing of Catbirds
A cauldron of Crows
A pounce of (House) Cats
An intrusion of Cockroaches
A corral of Cowbirds
A piteousness of Doves
A waddling of Ducks
A memory of Elephants
A flamboyance of Flamingos
A skulk of Foxes
A flotilla of Frigatebirds
A tower of Giraffes
An omniscience of Godwits
A whoop of Gorillas
A gross of Grosbeaks (this only makes sense if there are 144 of them; otherwise, it’s complete whimsy/silliness)
A squabble of Gulls
A thunder of Hippopotamuses
A cry of Hounds
A charm of Hummingbirds
A cackle of Hyenas
A shadow, prowl, or leap of Jaguars
A scold of Jays
A bloom of Jellyfish
A coronation of Kingbirds
A loveliness of Ladybugs
An exaltation of Larks (because of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s Ode to a Skylark?)
A lounge of Lizards
An asylum of Loons
A labor of Moles
A barrel of Monkeys
A scourge of Mosquitoes
A barren of Mules
A passel of Opossums
A romp of Otters
A parliament of Owls
A mural or palette of Painted Buntings
A claw of Panthers
A pandemonium of Parrots
An ostentation of Peacocks
A paddle of Platypuses
An aurora of Polar Bears
A prickle of Porcupines
A rhumba of Rattlesnakes
A crash of Rhinoceroses
A race or marathon of Roadrunners
A maelstrom of Salamanders
A slurp of Sapsuckers
A shiver of Sharks
A stench of Skunks
An escargatoire of Snails (the cat who chose this name wore a beret, I’m inclined to think)
A slither of Snakes
A scurry of Squirrels
A candle of Tapirs
An ambush or streak of Tigers
A zeal or dazzle of Zebras
If you’re interested in more of the similar, see my short book Strength in Numbers: From a Shrewdness of Apes to a Dazzle of Zebras, which contains more collective names, along with a photo and a haiku poem for each letter of the alphabet. You can examine it more closely here.