Ears & Evolution: Charging Elephants & the Westminster Dog Show

Many of us involved in business in the Hamptons go away on vacation in the wintertime when things slow down. I did that over the years; spent four months in places like Maui, Provence, New Zealand.

One year, my wife and I went on safari in Africa. Traveling across a plain in a Land Rover with a guide, we encountered a 4-ton female elephant tending to offspring about 30 yards away. She stopped and glared at us. With that, our guide stopped the Land Rover and turned off the ignition.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “She’s thinking of charging us. Look at the ears.”

Elephants have big, droopy ears. This elephant had raised hers up to present them as big gray flags sticking out sideways from her head. It allowed her to hear every tiny sound. I understood immediately that we were in trouble. She would shortly, based on our behavior, make a decision about what to do next.

“Don’t look at her,” our guide continued. “Look at the ground.” We all looked at the ground.

He started the engine. “Keep looking at the ground,” he repeated.

Then, he shifted the car into reverse and began creeping away backwards. With that, the elephant decided. She snorted, brought the ears back down, then turned and walked away, the offspring following.

While I was attending the Westminster Dog Show last week, this incident so long ago came to mind. In the ring, an owner was running around with a playful cocker spaniel loosely on a leash. The cocker’s ears flapped up and down as he ran. He seemed to enjoy doing that, but he had no control over them. Then, with a further command, he stopped, and the ears fell down, fully covering the sides of his head. Whether he liked it or not, it surely interfered with his hearing.

I thought, what is it about ears? They’ve evolved differently on different creatures, sometimes for worse, sometimes for better, apparently the result of various random efforts by evolution to get creatures to hear better.

Explorer Charles Darwin later wrote about this.

I know this is sort of dumb, but it occurred to me that the subject of ears might make an interesting column. For example, there was my Uncle Matty. He went to Harvard, became a psychiatrist, had an office on the first floor of an apartment building facing the Grand Army Plaza in Brooklyn, and lived on the eighth floor upstairs with his wife and two daughters.

The thing I remember about him was he could wiggle his ears. “Pull my nose,” he’d say. And when one of us nephews did, his ears would wiggle. He dared any of us to try it. Noses got honked. Nothing came of it.

In the scheme of things, I suppose, Uncle Matty may have been further along, evolutionarily speaking, but it didn’t do him much good. He couldn’t hear better because of it. It was just one of those random evolutionary changes. Some work, some don’t. Such business is happening particularly quickly now as global warming accelerates.

So let’s do a survey.

A horse has ears shaped like shells that stick stiffly up. With this enhancement, he hears sound better. But then, if he wants to run, he can sweep his ears back. He loses some hearing ability, but gains speed, his ears flattened so air can rush more forcefully by.

It’s also said that horses can express emotions with their ears. Forward is friendly. Swept back is go away.

Deer have that ability, too. But I don’t think they mean anything by it.

Dog evolution has produced many different sorts of ears. Some ears, such as those on a papillon, are oversize, shell-like and stick straight up. Surely, they allow a papillon to hear better than a cocker spaniel. But they don’t show off about it. I do believe they don’t even know about it. You never see a papillon running on ahead, as scout, helping out the hearing-impaired cocker.

Dogs also can hear high-pitched sounds that humans can’t. Well, certain dogs. Cockers, one would think, cannot do that. Has a study been done?

Cats also have small, stiff, pointy ears. Evolution seems happy with that. You don’t see attempts to change it.

I believe evolution has never attempted to give fish ear flaps. Or, if it has, it’s been discarded. It certainly would slow down swimming.

It’s possible, besides ears, to make similar comparisons about animal noses — dogs’ and horses’ are wet, cats’ are dry, elephants’ noses are, well, remarkable. As long, flexible tubes that can curl at the end, they give elephants not only better smelling so close to the ground, but also the ability to pick things up without having to crouch down. It’s come about, I think, because elephant feet, both front and back, are thick and strong to be able to hold up the great weight of the creature, but otherwise are pretty useless as successful picker-uppers.

Noses on other creatures, such as birds, are stiff, sharp appendages that can be useful in a fight or for breaking twigs and things. Maybe noses could be the topic of my next column. No?

Or eyes. On some creatures, such as crocodiles, they swivel, even look behind them if they wish. I think. Or did I just see that in the movie Star Wars?

Or tails. They swat flies, express happiness or serve as weapons. Why did we lose ours?

How about a column about love? Do other animals experience it? Humans do. Most of us, anyway, from time to time. Observe the male peacock who, when attracted to a female, spreads himself out like a giant feather circus.

I just remembered. My mother had eyes in the back of her head. At age 7, I’d be doing something bad behind her. Stop that, she’d say, then tell me how she knew.

God bless all the creatures, great and small.

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