- Nov 9, 2013
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Have wanted to get this down for some time.
As fast as I can type.
I see in literature of emus in captivity mating at 18-20 months. Okay -- but that would be out of synch with the seasons, which calibrate breeding in the wild.
My point is:
a wild emu leaves its last 'chickness' behind at about 20-23 months. Okay. Then we call it an adult. Emus' Birthday is on the first of spring: 24 months and one day.
Okay.
But I don't think an emu is 'socially' mature at that stage. In the birds I've observed: Uno Chick and Greedy Emu and Felicity Emu and Number One, all females. All observed over about four to nine years of their lives.
They didn't breed in their third year. Two of them didn't breed 'til their fourth year. (Plenty of data missing here!!!!!!)
So, I theorise thus: a wild female emu, at least, is physically able to breed at two -- but of course she wouldn't because she'd be older by the time egg-laying came around (after securing a consort during autumn) in winter. So, 'almost three' is her first chance to lay; but even then she may well be 'socially immature' -- she hasn't yet worked up the moxy to secure territory, which is achieved by thrashing the feathers off other females.
The ten years of observations here have revealed several 'alpha' birds. Eric was one. Indeed, a legend -- 'double alpha.' The only ever other 'double alpha' was his daughter, 'Greedy,' whom I have personally observed attacking and single-handedly driving of a group of 14 emus. Felicity is a sweetie: she juuuust comes in as an alpha bird.
So, imagine you are a young female, two-and-a-half. The Australian bush is a big big place. But in bad seasons, even in fairly ordinary seasons, grass and other foods are scarce from late summer until after the autumn rains have broken, and that's the time of year -- late summer/early autumn -- when a female and the consort she has secured are pressed to fight with other females and their consorts, for scarce resources. It does not surprise me that a female of just two and a half or even three and a half has not yet found the moxy to first secure a consort, and then begin tangling with other breeding-pairs, to secure territory. (For some time, the males stand around like potted plants, but will help if called upon, and watching this 'calling upon' is an amazing thing).
Older tougher females??
Anecdote: I was priveleged to be physically present -- literally about ten feet away -- on the day that Eric the Long-Reigning Double-Alpha Emu was dethroned by the newcomer, his own daughter, Greedy Emu. Here is Greedy:
[Greedy has been missing, presumed dead, for about five years now]
I was standing near Eric. Greedy came into sight; took a hundred foot run-up; leaped so high that the top of her head was about nine feet of the ground; came sailing past me, just feet away; and landed on Eric a double-footed kick to the chest that knocked him, in a milli-second, off the throne he'd occupied for four years that I knew of.
That, and another datum -- Felicity arriving out of the bush, bleeding from neck to ankles from a chest wound I bet she got from fighting for territory -- and a bazillion skirmishes I have observed, suggest that territory is not as easy a thing to secure as one might think.
As fast as I can type.
I see in literature of emus in captivity mating at 18-20 months. Okay -- but that would be out of synch with the seasons, which calibrate breeding in the wild.
My point is:
a wild emu leaves its last 'chickness' behind at about 20-23 months. Okay. Then we call it an adult. Emus' Birthday is on the first of spring: 24 months and one day.
Okay.
But I don't think an emu is 'socially' mature at that stage. In the birds I've observed: Uno Chick and Greedy Emu and Felicity Emu and Number One, all females. All observed over about four to nine years of their lives.
They didn't breed in their third year. Two of them didn't breed 'til their fourth year. (Plenty of data missing here!!!!!!)
So, I theorise thus: a wild female emu, at least, is physically able to breed at two -- but of course she wouldn't because she'd be older by the time egg-laying came around (after securing a consort during autumn) in winter. So, 'almost three' is her first chance to lay; but even then she may well be 'socially immature' -- she hasn't yet worked up the moxy to secure territory, which is achieved by thrashing the feathers off other females.
The ten years of observations here have revealed several 'alpha' birds. Eric was one. Indeed, a legend -- 'double alpha.' The only ever other 'double alpha' was his daughter, 'Greedy,' whom I have personally observed attacking and single-handedly driving of a group of 14 emus. Felicity is a sweetie: she juuuust comes in as an alpha bird.
So, imagine you are a young female, two-and-a-half. The Australian bush is a big big place. But in bad seasons, even in fairly ordinary seasons, grass and other foods are scarce from late summer until after the autumn rains have broken, and that's the time of year -- late summer/early autumn -- when a female and the consort she has secured are pressed to fight with other females and their consorts, for scarce resources. It does not surprise me that a female of just two and a half or even three and a half has not yet found the moxy to first secure a consort, and then begin tangling with other breeding-pairs, to secure territory. (For some time, the males stand around like potted plants, but will help if called upon, and watching this 'calling upon' is an amazing thing).
Older tougher females??
Anecdote: I was priveleged to be physically present -- literally about ten feet away -- on the day that Eric the Long-Reigning Double-Alpha Emu was dethroned by the newcomer, his own daughter, Greedy Emu. Here is Greedy:
[Greedy has been missing, presumed dead, for about five years now]
I was standing near Eric. Greedy came into sight; took a hundred foot run-up; leaped so high that the top of her head was about nine feet of the ground; came sailing past me, just feet away; and landed on Eric a double-footed kick to the chest that knocked him, in a milli-second, off the throne he'd occupied for four years that I knew of.
That, and another datum -- Felicity arriving out of the bush, bleeding from neck to ankles from a chest wound I bet she got from fighting for territory -- and a bazillion skirmishes I have observed, suggest that territory is not as easy a thing to secure as one might think.
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