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Posts Tagged ‘dem bones’

Sorry about the title. It’s the best I could do. In case you missed it on our Anatomy to You blog, we unleashed a hefty database of CT (and some MRI) scans of our frozen crocodile cadavers last week, for free public usage. In total, it’s about 34 individuals from 5 species, in 53 databases constituting around 26,000 individual DICOM file format slices of data. This page has a table of what the data/specimens are. I am writing this post to share some more images and ensure that word gets out. We’re thrilled to be able to finally release this first dataset. We have plans to let loose a LOT more such data in the future, for various organisms that we study.

Stomach-Churning Rating: 2/10- be glad that these data don’t come with an olfactory component, especially the five rotten, maggot-ridden Morelet’s croc specimens, which are among the stinkiest things I’ve dealt with.

Crocodiles are no strangers to this blog, of course, as these past links testify. Indeed, most of the crocodile images I’ve blogged with come from specimens that are in this scan dataset. We even released a “celebrity crocodile, “WCROC” or FNC7 in our dataset, which is the 3.7m long Nile croc from “Inside Nature’s Giants”. It broke our CT scanner back in ~2009 but we got the data, except for the torso, and we also got some MRI scans from it, so we’re chuffed.

Above: The only spectacled caiman (Caiman crocodilus); and indeed the only alligatorid; in our dataset. To watch for: stomach contents/gastroliths, and all the damn osteoderms that I did/didn’t segment in this quickly processed file. This specimen had its limbs dissected for one of our studies, so only the right limbs are visible.

There are some more specimens to come- e.g. five baby Nile crocs‘ datasets (“GNC1-5”) are hiding somewhere in our drives and we just need to dig them up. You might also know that we published some scan data for crocodile vertebral columns (including fossils) in our recent paper with Julia Molnar et al. (and related biomechanical data discussed here), and we published all of our anatomical measurements for a huge set of crocodylian species in our papers by Vivian Allen et al. And then I had an enjoyable collaboration with Colleen Farmer and Emma Schachner on the lung anatomy of various crocodylian species, using these same specimens and related scan datasets.

 

Above: rotating Crocodylus moreletii (specimen FMC5 from our database) in a happy colour.

Sharing these kind of huge datasets isn’t so easy. Not only do few websites host them cheaply, and with reasonable file size limits, and limited headaches for what info you have to provide, and with some confidence that the websites/databases will still exist in 5-20 years, but also we were hesitant to release the dataset until we felt that it was nicely curated. Researchers can now visit my lab and study the skeletons (or in some cases, the still-frozen specimens) matched up with the scan data, and known body masses or other metadata. We’re not a museum with dedicated curatorial staff, so that was not trivial to reliably organize, and I still worry that somewhere in the dataset we mis-identified a specimen or something. But we’ve done our best, and I’m happy with that for now.

Above: rotating Osteolaemus tetraspis (specimen FDC2 from our database), which was obviously dissected a bit postmortem before we could scan it, but still shows some cool features like the extensive bony armour and the cute little doglike (to me, anyway) skull. I worked with these animals (live) a bit >10 years ago and came to love them. Compared to some other crocodiles we worked with, they had a pleasant demeanour. Like this guy:

Osteolaemus (resting) set up with motion capture markers for a yet-to-be-published study that we did in 2005 (ugh!). It wasn't harmed by this.

Osteolaemus (resting) set up with motion capture markers for a yet-to-be-published gait study that we did in 2005 (ugh!). It wasn’t harmed by this.

Anyway, as a person who likes to maintain quality in the science we do, I also was hesitant to “just” release the DICOM file data rather than beautiful segmented 3D skeletal (or other tissue) geometry that is ready for 3D printing or animation or other uses, or interactive online tools like Sketchfab. Other labs (e.g. Witmerlab) do these kind of things better than we do and they inspire us to raise our game in the future, but I am sure that we will be forgiven for releasing big datasets without gorgeous visuals and more practical, processed files — this time.🙂  We agree with many other scientists that sharing data is part of modern, responsible science– and it can be fun, too! Oddly enough, in this case we hadn’t used the CT/MRI data much for our own studies; most of the scans were never fully digitized. We just scan everything we get and figured it was time to share these scans.

Enjoy. If you do something cool with the data that we’ve made accessible, please let us know so we can spread the joy!

And if you’re a researcher headed to ICVM next week, I hope to see you there!

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Who needs “Ice Road Truckers” when you have the “John’s Freezer” team on the road with fossils, amphibians, felids and 3D phenotype fun? No one, that’s who. We’re rocking the Cheltenham Science Festival for our first time (as a group), and pulling out all the stops by presenting two events! Here’s the skinny on them, with updates as the week proceeds.

Stomach-Churning Rating: 2/10 for now (just bones), but it could change once the cheetah dissection is under way… 8/10 bloody cheetah bits but only at the end (updated)

Right now, Lauren Sumner-Rooney (of “Anatomy To You” and other fame) is on-site with a rotating team of others from our lab, in the “Free Activity Tents” area of the Imperial Gardens/Square, inside a marquee where we’ll be showing off our NERC-funded tetrapod research all week. This “First Steps” event features not only our past and present work with Jenny Clack, Stephanie Pierce, Julia Molnar and others on Ichthyostega & its “fishapod” mates, but also our “scampering salamanders” research in Spain, Germany and England. I’ve blogged a lot about all that, and won’t repeat it here, but you can see a 3D-printed Ichthyostega skeleton, view the skeleton in a virtual reality 3D environment, see related specimens and engage in kid-friendly activities, and talk to our team about this and other related research.

Ichthyostega 3D printed backbone is born!

Ichthyostega 3D printed backbone is born!

The central themes of that event are how bone structure relates to function and how we can use such information, along with experimental measurements and computer models of real salamanders, to reconstruct how extinct animals might have behaved as well as how swimming animals became walking ones. How did fins transform into limbs and what did that mean for how vertebrates made the evolutionary transition onto land? If you know my team’s work, that encapsulates our general approach to many other problems in evolutionary biomechanics (e.g. how did avian bipedalism evolve?). Added benefits are that you too can explore this theme in a hands-on way, and you can talk with us about it in person. That continues all week (i.e. until Saturday evening); I’ll be around from Thursday afternoon onwards, too. Kids of all ages are welcome!

Ichthyostega 3D print taking shape!

Ichthyostega 3D print taking shape!

Then, on Saturday for our second free event we join forces with Ben Garrod (master of primate evolution, the secrets of bones, and “Attenborough and the Giant Dinosaur”) and RVC’s forensic pathologist Alexander Stoll as well as Sophie Regnault (“sesamoid street” PhD student w/me). As the “Large Animal Dissection” title hints, it’s not the right kind of gig to bring small kids to. There will be blood and stuff— we’ll be dissecting a cheetah together from 10am-4pm. This will involve walking through all the major organ systems, giving evolutionary anecdotes, and plenty more, with an aim to understand how the magnificent adaptations of cheetahs evolved—but also to investigate what problem(s) this animal faced that led to its sad demise. By the day’s end, there will just be a skeleton left. Get a front row seat early for this event, which serendipitously ties into “Team Cat”’s Leverhulme Trust-funded research project (we wanted a big animal and it just happened to be a cheetah; I had hoped for a giant croc or a shark or something but can’t complain!).

Ichthyostega 3D print is ready!

Ichthyostega 3D print is ready!

If you miss these events, please do cry bitter tears of regret. But don’t despair, there will be another “big cat dissection” in the London area in ~November (watch here for details), and plenty more fossil tetrapod stuff to come, plus a LOT more dinosaurs on the horizon!

Guess the bones! (photo by Zoe Self)

Guess the bones! (photo by Zoe Self)

And please come back to this blog post for more pics and stories as the week carries on… For hashtag afficionados, you can follow the fun on Twitter etc. at #firststepsCSF16. What a world we live in!

Update 1: While you’re here, check out our Youtube playlists of tetrapod-related videos:

Lobe-finned fishes

Ichthyostega‘s awesome anatomy

Tetrapod evolution: Tiktaalik to salamanders!

Update 2: Photos of our main stand (about tetrapod evolution)

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Our poster/banner display looks nice.

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Our tent brings in some punters.

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Our bones excite people young and old, sighted and blind.

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Fun with stickers and lab t-shirts.

And…

Update 3: Cheetah meat & greet
Ben, Alex, Sophie and I tackled the cheetah dissection today and it went GREAT! Much better than I’d optimistically expected. Rain didn’t scare the crowds off and neither did the gore, which there was some of (gelatinous spinal cords, lumpy tumors and at least one flying tiny bit of cheetah flesh that landed on a good-natured audience member!). Photos will tell the tale:

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Peek-a-boo!

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Sophie and Alex help us get set up in our tent.

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Our initial rough schedule- although we ended up improvising more after lunch.

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Dissectors assemble!

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The beast revealed. It was skinned by the museum that loaned it to us.

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Alex showing his talent: removing the viscera in one piece from end to end, starting with the tongue.

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Impressive finding of a surgical fixture (plate and wires) on the tibia, which had been used to hold the shattered bone back together long enough for it to heal. Added to the kidney disease and liver-spleen-lung cancer, this cheetah was in the sorriest shape of any cadaver I’ve seen yet.

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Cheetah coming to pieces: (from bottom) lumbar/pelvic region, hindlimb, thorax, forelimb and other bits.

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Dr Adam Rutherford, an eye expert, did a nice dissection of the cheetah’s eye, here showing the tapetum lucidum (reflective membrane), which shows up as light blue colour. Its small size befits the not-very-nocturnal habits of cheetahs.

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The lens of the cheetah’s eye. Now cloudy because of dehydration and crystalization, but still fascinating to see.

Want to see more images and the enthusiastic responses from the audience (we got some great feedback)? Check out Twitter’s #cheltscifest feed, or more simply my Storify condensation of the cheetah-related tweets here.

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I have an impression that there is a large disparity between how the public views museums and how scientists who use museums view them. Presumably there are survey data on public attitudes, but surely the common impression is that museums mainly exist to exhibit cool stuff and educate/entertain the public. Yet, furthermore, I bet that many members of the public don’t really understand the nature of museum collections (how and why they are curated and studied) or what those collections even look like. As a researcher who tends to do heavily specimen-oriented and often museum-based research, I thought I’d take the opportunity to describe my experience at one museum collection recently. This visit was fairly representative of what it’s like, as a scientist, to visit a museum with the purpose of using its collection for research, rather than mingling with the public to oggle the exhibits — although I did a little of that at the end of the day…

Stomach-Churning Rating: 4/10; mostly bones except a jar of preserved critters, but also some funky bone pathologies! Darwin hurls once, totally blowing chunks, but only in text.

Early camel is sitting down on the job at the NHMLA.

Early camel is sitting down on the job at the NHMLA.

About two weeks ago, I had the pleasure to spend a fast-paced day in the Ornithology collection of the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County (NHMLA or LACM). I arranged the visit (you have to be a credible researcher to get access; luckily I seemed to be that!) via email, took an Uber car to the museum, and was quickly cut loose in the collection. I was hosted by the Collections Manager Kimball Garrett, who is an avid birder (adept at citizen science, too!) and a longtime LA native.

Amongst museum curators and collections managers (there can be a distinction between the two but here I’ll refer to them all as “curators”), there is a wide array of attitudes toward and practices with museum collections, regarding how the curators balance their varied duties of not only making the museum collection accessible to researchers (via behind-scenes studies) and the public (via exhibits and behind-scenes tours etc.), but also curation (maintaining a record of what they have in their collection, adding to it, and keeping the specimen in good condition), research, admin, teaching and other duties.

Most curators I’ve known, like Kimball, are passionate about all of these things, and very generous with their time to help scientists make the most of the collection during their visit, offering hospitality and cutting through the bureaucracy as much as possible to ensure that the science gets done. There are those few curators that aren’t great hosts because they’ve had a bad day or a bad attitude (e.g. obsession with paperwork and finding obstacles to accessing specimens for research; or just not responding to communication), but they are few and far between in my experience.

Regardless, the curator is the critical human being that keeps the wheels of specimen-based museum research rolling, and I am appreciative of how deeply dedicated and efficient most curators are. Indeed, I enjoy meeting and chatting with them because they tend not only to be fun people but also incredibly knowledgeable about their collection, museum, and area of expertise. Sadly, this trip was so time-constrained that I didn’t get much time at all for socializing. I had about five hours to get work done so I plunged on in!

Images, as always, can be clicked to emu-biggen them. Thanks to the NHMLA for access!

My initial look down the halls of the osteology storage. Rolling cabinets (on the right) are a typical sight.

My initial look down the halls of the osteology storage. Rolling cabinets (on the right) are a typical sight.

Freezers ahoy!

Freezers ahoy! With Batman watching over them.

A jar of bats? Why not? Batman approves.

A jar of bats? Why not? Batman approves.

The curator cleared a space on a table for me to set bones on. Then the anatomizing and photographing began!

The curator cleared a space on a table for me to set bones on. Then the anatomizing and photographing began!

On entering a museum collection, one quickly gets a sense of its “personality” and the culture of the museum itself, which emerges from the curator, the collection’s history, and the museum’s priorities. There are fun human touches like the ones in the photos below, interspersed between the stinking carcasses awaiting skeletonization, the crumbling bone specimens on tables that need repair or new ID tags, or the rows upon rows of coffee cups ready to fuel the staff’s labours.

Yet another reason why Darwin kicks ass.

Yet another reason why Darwin kicks ass. And fine curator-humour!

Ironic bird pic posted on the wall.

Ironic bird pic posted on the wall.

Below a typical wall-hanging of a bovid skull, an atypical display of a clutch of marshmallow peeps. Contest to see whether the mammalian or pseudo-avian specimens last longest?

Below a typical wall-hanging of a bovid skull, an atypical display of a clutch of marshmallow peeps. Contest to see whether the mammalian or pseudo-avian specimens last longest?

The NHMLA’s collection is a world-class one, which I why I chose it as the example for this post. When I entered the collection, I got that staggering sense of awe that I love feeling, to look down the halls of cabinets full of skeletonized specimens of birds and be overwhelmed by the vast scientific resource it represents, and the effort it has taken to create and maintain it. Imagine entering a library in which every book had the librarian’s hand in writing and printing it, and that those books’ contents were largely mysteries to humanity, only some of which you could investigate during your visit. Museum collections exist to fuel generations of scientific inquiry in this way. Their possibilities are endless. And that is why I love visiting them, because every trip is an adventure into the unknown– you do not know what you will find. Like these random encounters I had in the collection’s shelves:

Sectioned moa thigh bones, showing thick walls and spars of trabecular bone criss-crossing the marrow cavities.

Sectioned moa thigh bones, showing thick walls and spars of trabecular bone criss-crossing the marrow cavities.

My gut reaction was that this is a moa wishbone (furcula)- not often seen! It is definitely not a shoulder girdle (scapulocoracoid), which would be larger and more robust, and have a proper shoulder joint. It could, though, be a small odd rib, I suppose.

My gut reaction was that this is a moa wishbone (furcula)- not often seen! It is definitely not a shoulder girdle (scapulocoracoid), which would be larger and more robust, and have a proper shoulder joint. It could, though, be a small odd rib, I suppose. EDIT: Think again, John! See 1st comment below, and follow-ups. I seem to be totally wrong and the ID of scapulocoracoid is right.

A cigar box makes an excellent improvised container for moa toe bones- why not?

A cigar box makes an excellent improvised container for moa toe bones- why not?

Moa feet: all the moa to love!

Moa feet: all the moa to love!

May the skull of the magpie goose (Anseranas semipalmata) haunt your nightmares.

May the skull of the magpie goose (Anseranas semipalmata) haunt your nightmares.

Double-owie: headed shank (tibiotarsus) bone of a magpie goose (Anseranas semipalmata). No mystery why this guy died: vet staff at the zoo tried to fix a major bone fracture, and it had time to heal (frothy bone formation) but presumably succumbed to these injuries/infection.

Healed shank (tibiotarsus) bone of the same magpie goose as above. It had its own nightmares! No mystery why this guy died: vet staff at the zoo tried to fix a major bone fracture (bracing it with tubes and metal spars), and it had time to heal (see the frothy bone formation) but presumably succumbed to these injuries/infection.

Kiwi (Apteryx australis mantelli) hand, showing feather attachments and remnant of finger(s).

Kiwi (Apteryx australis mantelli) hand, showing feather attachments and remnant of finger(s).

Now that I’m in the collection shelves area, it brings me to this trip and my purpose for it! I wanted to look at some “basal birds” for our ongoing patella (kneecap) evolution project, to check which species (or individuals, such as juveniles/adults) have patellae. Every museum visit as a scientist is fundamentally about testing whether what you think you know about nature is correct or not. We’d published on how the patella evolved in birds, but mysteries remain about which species definitely had a patella or how it develops. Museum collections often have the depth and breath of individual variation and taxonomic coverage to be able to address such mysteries, and every museum collection has different strengths that can test those ideas in different, often surprising, ways. So I ventured off to see what the NHMLA would teach me.

Shelves full of boxes, begging to be opened- but unlike Pandora's box, they release joyous science!

Shelves full of boxes, begging to be opened- but unlike Pandora’s box, they release joyous science!

Boxes of kiwis, oh frabjous day! A nice sample size like this for a "rare" (to Northern hemispherites) bird is a pleasure to see.

Boxes of kiwis, oh frabjous day! A nice sample size like this for a “rare” (to Northern hemispherites) bird is a pleasure to see.

Well, in my blitz through this museum collection I didn’t see a single damn patella!

As that kneecap bone is infamously seldom preserved in nice clean museum specimens, this did not surprise me. So I took serendipity by the horns to check some of my ideas about how the limb joints in birds in general develop and evolve. One thing I’ve been educating myself about with my freezer specimens and with museum visits (plus the scientific literature) is how the ends (epiphyses) of the limb bones form in different species of land vertebrates (tetrapods). There are complex patterns linked with evolution, biomechanics and development that still need to be understood.

Left side view of the pelvis of a very mature, HUGE Casuarius casuarius (cassowary). The space between the ilium (upper flat bone) and ischium (elongate bone on middle right side) has begun to be closed by a mineralization of the membrane that spanned those bones in life. A side effect of maturity, most likely. But cool- I've never seen this in a ratite bird before, that I can recall.

Left side view of the pelvis of a very mature, HUGE Casuarius casuarius (cassowary). The space between the ilium (upper flat bone) and ischium (elongate bone on middle right side) has begun to be closed by a mineralization of the membrane that spanned those bones in life. A side effect of maturity, most likely. But cool- I’ve never seen this in a ratite bird before, that I can recall.

Hatchling ostrich thigh bones (femora), showing the un-ossified ends that in life would be occupied by thick cartilage.

Hatchling ostrich thigh bones (femora), showing the pitted, un-ossified ends that in life would be occupied by thick cartilage.

A more adult ostrich's femora, with more ossified ends and thinner cartilages.

A more adult ostrich’s femora, with more ossified ends and thinner cartilages.

Rhea pennata (Darwin's rhea) femora (thigh bones), left (top) one with major pathology on the knee end; overgrown bone. Owie!

Rhea pennata (Darwin’s rhea) femora; right (top) one with a major pathology on the knee end; overgrown bone (osteoarthritis?). Owie!

Also very-unfused knee joints of a Darwin's rhea. Cool Y-shape!

Also very-unfused knee joints of a Darwin’s rhea hatchling. Cool Y-shape!

In birds, most of the bones don’t have anything that truly could be called an epiphysis– the bone ends are capped with thick cartilage that only gradually becomes bone as the birds get older, and even old-ish birds can still have a lot of cartilage (see photos above)– no “secondary centre” (true epiphysis) of bone mineralization ever forms inside that cartilage. However, there are two curious apparent exceptions to this absence of true epiphyses in avian limbs:

(1) in the knee joint, something like an epiphysis forms on the upper end of the tibia (shank bone) and fuses during growth (shown below). Sometimes that unfused epiphysis is confused with a patella, as our recent paper discussed; in any case, where that “epiphysis” came from in avian evolution is unclear. But also:

(2) in the ankle joint, several bones on both sides (shank and foot) of the joint fuse to the long-bones of the limbs, acting like epiphyses. It is well documented by the fossil record of non-avian and avian dinosaurs that these were the tarsals: at least five different bones (astragalus, calcaneum and distal tarsals) were individual bones for millions of years in various dinosaurs, then these all fused to form the “epiphyses” of the shank and foot, eventually completing this gradual fusion within the bird lineage. Modern birds obliterate the boundaries between these five or more bones as they grow.

These are worthwhile questions to pursue because they show us (1) how odd, little-explored features of the avian skeleton came to be; and (2) potentially more generally why limb bones develop the many ways they do in vertebrates, and how they might develop incorrectly — or heal if damaged.

Images below from the NHMLA collections show how this is the case. Fortunately(?) for me, they supported how I thought the “epiphyses” of avian limbs develop/evolved; there were no big surprises. But I still learned neat details about how this happens in individual species or lineages, especially for the knee joint.

Juvenile kiwi's shank (tibiotarsus) bones viewed from the top (proximal) ends, showing the bubbly nubbins of bone (very bottom of each bone image) that are the "cranial tibial epiphyses" often mistaken for patellae.

Juvenile kiwi’s shank (tibiotarsus) bones viewed from the top (proximal) ends, showing the bubbly nubbins of bone (very bottom of each bone image; lighter region) that are the “cranial tibial epiphyses” often mistaken for patellae.

Subadult kiwi's tibiotarsi in same view as above, showing the epiphyses fusing onto the tibiae.

Subadult kiwi’s tibiotarsi in same view as above, showing the smooth triangular epiphyses fusing onto the tibiae.

Adult kiwi's tibiotarsi (sorry, blurry photo) in which all fusion is complete.

Adult kiwi’s tibiotarsi (sorry, blurry photo) in which all fusion is complete.

Looking down at the top/ankle end of the tarsometatarsal (sole) bones in a hatchling ostrich: the three bones are separate and hollow, where "cartilage cones" would have filled them in.

Looking down at the top/ankle end of the tarsometatarsal (sole) bones in a hatchling ostrich: the three bones are separate and hollow, where “cartilage cones” would have filled them in. The left and right bones have different amounts of ossification; not unusual in such a young bird.

Ossified tendons (little spurs of long, thin bone) on the soles of the feet (tarsometatarsal bones) of a brush-turkey (Alectura lathami)- seldom described in this unusual galliform bird or its close relatives, and thus nice to see. These would be parts of the toe-flexor tendons.

Ossified tendons (little spurs of long, thin bone) on the soles of the feet (tarsometatarsal bones) of a brush-turkey (Alectura lathami)- seldom described in this unusual galliform bird or its close relatives, and thus nice to see. These would be parts of the toe-flexor tendons. Another nice thing about these two tarsometatarsus specimens is that their fusion is basically complete- each is one single bone unit, as in normal adult birds, rather than five or more.

My visit to the NHMLA bird bone collection was a lot of fun, because I got to do what I love: opening box after box of bone specimens, with bated breath wondering what would be inside. In this case, familiarity was inside, but my knowledge of avian bone development and evolution still improved. I got to look at a lot of ostriches, rheas, cassowaries and kiwis, more than I’d seen in one museum before, and that broadened my sample of young, juvenile and adult animals that I’d seen for these species. Their knees and ankles all grew in grossly similar ways, supporting this assumption in my prior work and building my confidence in published ideas. It’s always good to check such things. Each box opened takes some careful observation and cross-checking against all the facts and ideas swirling around in your head. You take notes, scale photos, measurements, do comparisons between specimens, and just explore; letting your curiosity run unleashed as you assemble knowledge, Tetris-like, in your mind.

And I had a lot of fun because a museum collection visit is like swimming in anatomy. You’re surrounded by more specimens than you could ever fully comprehend. Sometimes you run across an odd specimen whose anatomy tells you something about its life, like pathologies such as the terrible fractured magpie goose leg shown above. Or you see some curatorial touch that makes you chuckle at an apparent inside joke or mutter respect for their careful organization in tending their charges. That feeling of pulling open a museum drawer or box lid and peering inside is like few others in science — there might be disappointment inside (e.g. “Crap, that specimen sucks!”), boredom (“Oh. Another one of these!?”) or the joy of discovery (“Holy *@$£, I’ve never seen that before!”). My first scientific publication (in 1998) came from rummaging through the UCMP museum collections as a grad student and spotting an obscure pelvic bone that turned out to be highly diagnostic for the equally obscure clade of bird-like dinosaurs called alvarezsaurids. I happened to open that drawer with the alvarezsaurid specimen at the right time, shortly after the first ever specimen of that dinosaur had been described in the literature (~1994). Before then, no one could have identified what that bone was!

There is time for hours of quiet introspection during museum collection studies, immersed in this wealth of anatomical resources and isolated in a silent, climate-controlled tomb-like hall. It is relaxing and overwhelming at the same time. Especially in my case with just five hours to survey numerous species, you have to budget your time and think efficiently. It’s a unique challenge to explore a museum collection as a researcher. If you don’t learn something — especially in a good museum collection — you’re doing it wrong. In this time of tight finances and trends to close museums or stow away precious collections, it is important to vocally celebrate what a vast treasure museum collections are, and how the people that maintain them are vital stewards of those treasures.

I set the cat amongst the pigeons by also visiting the Page Museum at the La Brea Tar Pits in LA, to study fossil cats-- like this American lion (Panthera atrox) code-named "Fluffy", that we CT scanned during my LA visit-- more about that later!

I set the cat amongst the pigeons by also visiting the Page Museum at the La Brea Tar Pits in LA, to study fossil cats– like this American lion (Panthera atrox), code-named “Fluffy”, that we CT scanned during my LA visit– more about that later!

EDIT: I hurried this post off during my free time today, and still feel I didn’t fully capture the deep, complex feelings I have regarding museum collections and the delight I get from studying them. Other freezerinos, please add your thoughts in the Comments below!

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This week was a great week for me and giant dinosaurs in many ways, so I’m sharing that experience via photos and a bit of backstory. I hope you like it.

Stomach-Churning Rating: 1/10. Big birds and bones but no barfing.

First, I attended the filming of a new documentary, “T. rex Autopsy” (due for release on 7 June on NatGeo TV, just in time to steal the thunder of get you excited for Jurassic World), on the edge of London. I’m allowed to post these two photos of it. Expect much, much more information later– and I think you will like that information when it comes! Not quite a 50′ tall bird, but… So. Damn. Cool.

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trex-autopsy1

Second, my team and I dissected a big animal I’ve mentioned here before. For various reasons, I won’t/can’t post images or details of it right now, but I hope to soon. It’s not a dinosaur, but it was giant as its kind goes, so I’m wedging it in here.

Third, and this is the main impetus for my post, I finally got to see the giant chicken! No, not this one that I recall from my childhood…

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But this one! A 50’/13m tall chicken made by teacher Ben Frimet’s team of students and teachers at the City of London Academy!

Shortly after my first encounter.

Shortly after my first encounter. I’m still in a state of awed shock. And shadow.

The megachicken was unveiled at a “Chickenfest” event celebrating the sculpture’s completion. Chickenfest also prominently involved members of the “Chicken Coop” team who have drawn together scientists, humanities scholars, artists and more to investigate “Cultural & Scientific Perceptions of Human-Chicken Interactions” — more details here. Their theme helped unite the event’s various displays and lectures as well as some of the City of London Academy’s teaching topics, which inspired students to look at chickens from many angles. The event was so fun and truly integrative that it had me clucking with joy, but the anatomically accurate giant chicken art piece stole the show (as intended). Enjoy the photo tour below.

Giant Chicken 5

Pelvic/thigh region! (no patella, but hey)

Giant Chicken 6

Great views from up to 3 storeys around it.

Giant Chicken 3 Giant Chicken 4 Giant Chicken 7 Giant Chicken 8 Giant Chicken 9

Little chickens made of fast-food forks and stuff.

Little chickens made of fast-food forks and stuff. Very clever.

Chicken bones

One of our research chickens, a 30-day-old broiler, skeletonized by the Chicken Coop team and brought to the event. Chunky and funky!

Our RVC chicken research team (postdocs/fellows Drs. Heather Paxton, Jeffery Rankin, Diego Pereira-Neves) presented a stall with motion capture and chicken bones, like this fun identification display.

Our RVC chicken research team (postdocs/fellows Drs. Heather Paxton, Jeffery Rankin, Diego Pereira Neves) presented a stall with motion capture demos and chicken bones, like this fun identification display.

What will happen to that giant chicken art piece? This is yet to be determined, and was the question asked of the lecture panel (including me, who gave a lame answer involving King’s Cross’s birdcage). It was unanimous that it must not be destroyed– as long as it does not go on a destructive rampage through London…

One of my favourite films of my teenage years, Beastmaster, lends me a phrase I’ll throw out here like a razor-edged boomerang-thing: “Life is a circle. We will meet again.” And so, at the Chickenfest event, past and present worlds collided. I happened to be there presenting a talk just before Luis Rey. Almost exactly 13 years ago, Luis had done this classic T. rex vs. giant chicken race for my “T. rex was not a fast runner” paper in Nature. He likewise has blogged about the Chickenfest event, so check that out!

T. rex vs. chicken race, by Luis Rey

Coincidentally, there was ANOTHER 50′ tall bird placed not far from that giant chicken in southeast London this week, for a very different reason- a huge Norwegian Blue parrot in celebration of the Monty Python reunion! And I’ve been a Monty Python fan since age ~11, so that rocks my world two times over.

IMAGE: FLICKR USER TAYLOR HERRING

IMAGE: FLICKR USER TAYLOR HERRING

Two giant birds in London in one week. It doesn’t get any better than that– unless there were three such birds– if I missed one, chime in in the Comments!

(Edit: British friends tell me I must refer to an Alan Partridge skit here, so I am doing so. I know when to do as I’m told.)

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I hinted at another post in last round, and here I deliver. (The “amazeballs” in the title is a running joke with our Xmas guests here in England, but it applies to the subject of these images, too… which will be the subject of a future blog post involving a dissection of the subject!)

This will end the 2014 round of Mystery Anatomy. What 2015 will bring, I am not sure, but here we have 15 images for my 15th mystery CT post and 2015 around the corner.

I do have a new, fun regular anatomy post idea planned for 2015 but I’ll explain that later.

Stomach-Churning Rating: 2/10; digital images; the cadaver is gutted but I am chuffed.

Mystery Anatomy 2014same rules as before.

Identify (1) the animal shown in the 15 slices, to species level (max. 5 pts), and then the major features (anatomical regions) evident in as many of the 15 slices as you can; details help (max. 5 pts for thoroughness and accuracy). 

Difficulty: No scale, sort of. Otherwise, pretty easy.

Answers will come on New Year’s Day, to ease your hangovers (or encourage vomiting).

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MysteryCT15(15)

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Onward!

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Construction of the Phyletisches Museum in Jena, Germany began on Goethe’s birthday on August 28, 1907. The Art Nouveau-styled museum was devised by the great evolutionary biologist, embryologist and artist/howthefuckdoyousummarizehowcoolhewas Ernst Haeckel, who by that time had earned fame in many areas of research (and art), including coining the terms ontogeny (the pattern of development of an organism during its lifetime) and phylogeny (the pattern of evolution of lineages of organisms through time) which feature prominently in the building’s design and exhibits (notice them intertwined in the tree motif below, on the front of the museum). Ontogeny and phylogeny, and the flamboyant artistic sensibility that Haeckel’s work exuded, persist as themes in the museum exhibits themselves. Haeckel also came up with other popular words such as Darwinism and ecology, stem cell, and so on… yeah the dude kept busy.

Cavorting frogs from Haeckel's masterpiece Kunstformen der Natur (1904).

Cavorting frogs from Haeckel’s masterpiece Kunstformen der Natur (1904).

I first visited the Phyletisches Museum about 10 years ago, then again this August. Here are the sights from my latest visit: a whirlwind ~20 minute tour of the museum before we had to drive off to far-flung Wetzlar. All images are click-tastic for embiggenness.

Stomach-Churning Rating: 3/10 for some preserved specimens. And art nouveau.

Willkommen!

Willkommen!

Frog ontogeny, illustrated with gorgeous handmade ?resin? models.

Frog ontogeny, illustrated with gorgeous handmade ?resin? models.

Fish phylogeny, illustrated with lovely artistry.

Phylogeny of Deuterostomia (various wormy things, echinoderms, fish and us), illustrated with lovely artistry.

Phylogeny of fish and tetrapods.

Phylogeny of fish and tetrapods.

Slice of fossil fish diversity.

Slice of fossil fish diversity.

Plenty of chondryichthyan jaws and bodies.

Plenty of chondrichthyan jaws/chondrocrania, teeth and bodies.

Awesome model of a Gulper eel (Saccopharyngiformes).

Awesome model of a Gulper Eel — or, evocatively, “Sackmaul” auf Deutsch (Saccopharyngiformes).

Lobe-finned fishes (Sarcopterygii)- great assortment.

Lobe-finned fishes (Sarcopterygii)- great assortment including a fossil coelacanth.

Lungfish body/model and skeleton.

Lungfish body and skeleton.

Coelacanth!

Coelacanth!

Coelacanth staredown!

Coelacanth staredown!

Fire salamander! We love em, and the museum had several on display- given that we were studying them with x-rays, seeing the skeleton and body together here in this nice display was a pleasant surprise.

On into tetrapods– a Fire Salamander (Salamandra salamandra)! We love ’em, and the museum had several on display- given that we were studying them with x-rays, seeing the skeleton and body together here in this nice display was a pleasant surprise.

A tortoise shell and skeleton, with a goofball inspecting it.

A tortoise shell and skeleton, with a goofball inspecting it.

In a subtle nod to recurrent themes in evolution, the streamlined bodies of an ichthyosaur and cetacean shown in the main stairwell of the museum, illustrating convergent evolution to swimming locomotor adaptations.

In a subtle nod to recurrent themes in evolution, the streamlined bodies of an ichthyosaur and cetacean shown in the main stairwell of the museum, illustrating convergent evolution to swimming adaptations.

Phylogeny of reptiles, including archosaurs (crocs+birds).

Phylogeny of reptiles, including archosaurs (crocs+birds).

Gnarly model of an Archaeopteryx looks over a cast of the Berlin specimen, and a fellow archosaur (crocodile).

Gnarly model of an Archaeopteryx looks over a cast of the Berlin specimen, and a fellow archosaur (crocodile). The only extinct dinosaur on exhibit!

Kiwi considers the differences in modern bird palates: palaeognathous like it and fellow ratites/tinamous (left), and neognathous like most living birds.

Kiwi considers the differences in modern bird palates: palaeognathous like it and fellow ratites/tinamous (left), and neognathous like most living birds.

Echidna skeleton. I can't get enough of these!

Echidna skeleton. I can’t get enough of these!

Skulls of dugong (above) and manatee (below).

Skulls of dugong (above) and manatee (below), Sirenia (seacows) closely related to elephants.

Fetal manatee. Awww.

Fetal manatee. Awww.

Adult Caribbean manatee, showing thoracic dissection.

Adult Caribbean manatee, showing thoracic dissection.

Hyraxes, which Prof. Martin Fischer, longtime curator of the Phyletisches Museum, has studied for many years.  Rodent-like elephant relatives.

Hyraxes, which Prof. Martin Fischer, longtime curator of the Phyletisches Museum, has studied for many years. Rodent-like elephant cousins.

Old exhibit at the Phyletisches Museum, now gone: Forelimbs of an elephant posed in the same postures actually measured in African elephants, for the instant of foot touchdown (left pic) and liftoff (right pic). Involving data that we published in 2008!

Old exhibit at the Phyletisches Museum, now gone: Forelimbs of an elephant posed in the same postures actually measured in African elephants, for the instant of foot touchdown (left pic) and liftoff (right pic). Involving data that we published in 2008!

Gorilla see, gorilla do. Notice "bent hip, bent knee" vs. "upright modern human" hindlimb postures in the two non-skeletal hominids.

Eek, primates! Gorilla see, gorilla do. Notice the primitive “bent hip, bent knee” vs. the advanced “upright modern human” hindlimb postures in the two non-skeletal hominids.

Phylogeny of select mammals, including the hippo-whale clade.

Phylogeny of artiodactyl (even-toed) mammals, including the hippo-whale clade.

Hand (manus) of the early stem-whale Ambulocetus.

Hand (manus) of the early stem-whale Ambulocetus.

Carved shoulderblade (scapula) of a bowhead whale (Balaena mysticetus), which apparently Goethe owned. Quite a relic!

Carved shoulderblade (scapula) of a bowhead whale (Balaena mysticetus), which apparently Goethe owned (click to emwhalen and read the fine print). Quite a relic!

One of Haeckel's residences. There is also a well-preserved house of his that one can visit, but I didn't make it there.

One of Haeckel’s residences, across the street from the museum. There is also a well-preserved house of his that one can visit, but I didn’t make it there. I heard it’s pretty cool.

Jena is tucked away in a valley in former East Germany, with no local airport for easy access- but get to Leipzig and take a 1.25 hour train ride and you’re there. Worth a trip! This is where not just ontogeny and phylogeny were “born”, but also morphology as a modern, rigorous discipline. Huge respect is due to Jena, and to Haeckel, whose quotable quotes and influential research still resonate today, in science as well as in art.

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(John: here’s a guest post from my former PhD student, soon to be 100% legit PhD, Dr., and all that jazz, Julia Molnar!)

This is my first guest post, but I have been avidly following what’s in John’s freezer (and the blog too) for quite a while. I joined the lab in 2009 and left a month ago on the bittersweet occasion of surviving my PhD viva (oral exam/defense), so I’d like to take a moment here to thank John and the Structure & Motion Lab for a great 4 years!

Moving on to freezer-related matters; specifically, a bunch of frozen crocodile spines. It was late 2011, and the reason for the spines in John’s freezer was that John, Stephanie Pierce, and I were trying to find out more about crocodile locomotion. This was anticipated to become my first major, first-author research publication (but see my Palaeontologia Electronica paper on a related subject), and I was about to find out that these things seldom go as planned; for example, the article would not be published for more than three years (the research took a long time!). Before telling the story of how it lurched and stumbled toward eventual publication, I’ll give you some background on the project.

Stomach-Churning Rating: 3/10; x-ray of dead bits and nothing much worse.


A stumbly sort-of-bounding crocodile. They can do better.

First of all, why crocodiles? For one thing, they’re large, semi-terrestrial animals, but they use more sprawling postures than typical mammals. Along with alligators and gharials, they are the only living representatives of Crocodylomorpha, a 200+ million year-old lineage that includes wolf-like terrestrial carnivores, fish-like giants with flippers and a tail fin, even armored armadillo-like burrowers. Finally, crocodiles are interesting in their own right because they use a wide variety of gaits, including bounding and galloping, which are otherwise known only in mammals.

Nile croc

Nile crocodile skeletal anatomy

OK, so why spines? Understanding how the vertebral column works is crucial to understanding locomotion and body support on land, and inter-vertebral joint stiffness (how much the joints of the backbone resist forces that would move them in certain directions) in particular has been linked to trunk movements in other animals. For this reason, vertebral morphology is often used to infer functional information about extinct animals, including dinosaurs. However, vertebral form-function relationships have seldom been experimentally tested, and tests on non-mammals are particularly scarce. So we thought the crocodile spines might be able to tell us more about the relationship between vertebral morphology, mechanics, and locomotion in a broader sample of vertebrate animals. If crocodile spine morphology could be used to predict joint stiffness, then morphological measurements of extinct crocodile relatives would have some more empirical heft to them. Several skeletal features seem to play roles such as levers to mechanically stiffen crocodile spines (click to emcroc’en):

Croc vertebra-01

Anatomy of a crocodile vertebra

We decided to use a very simple technique that could be replicated in any lab to measure passive stiffness in crocodile cadavers. We dissected out individual joints were and loaded with known weights. From the movement of the vertebrae and the distance from the joint, we calculated how much force takes to move the joint a certain number of degrees (i.e. stiffness).

Julia w vertebra (480x640)

Me with crocodile vertebra and G-clamp

Xray

X-ray of two crocodile vertebrae loaded with a metric weight to calculate their joint’s stiffness

Afterwards, we boiled the joints to remove the soft tissues – the smell was indescribable! We took 14 measurements from each vertebra. All of these measurements had been associated with stiffness or range of motion in other studies, so we thought they might be correlated with stiffness in crocodiles also.

morphometrics

Some of the vertebral measurements that were related to stiffness

Despite my efforts to keep it simple, the process of data collection and analysis was anything but. I recall and exchange with Stephanie Pierce that went something like this:

Stephanie: “How’s it going?”

Me: “Well, the data are messy, I’m not seeing the trends I expected, and everything’s taking twice as long as it was supposed to.”

Stephanie: “Yes, that sounds like science.”

That was the biggest lesson for me: going into the project, I had been unprepared for the amount of bumbling around and re-thinking of methods when the results were coming up implausible or surprising. In this case there were a couple of cool surprises: for one thing, crocodiles turn out to have a very different pattern of inter-vertebral joint stiffness than typical mammals: while mammals have stiff thoracic joints and mobile lumbar joints, crocodiles have stiffer lumbar joints. Many mammals use large lumbar movements during bounding and galloping, so crocodiles must use different axial mechanics than mammals, even during similar gaits. While that’s not shocking (they did evolve their galloping and bounding gaits, and associated anatomy, totally independently), it is neat that this result came out so clearly. Another unexpected result was that, although several of our vertebral measurements were correlated with stiffness, some of the best predictors of stiffness in mammals from previous studies were not correlated with stiffness in crocodiles. The study tells a cautionary tale about making assumptions about extinct animals using data from only a subset of their living relatives or intuitive ideas about form and function.

Finally, the experience of doing the experiments and writing the paper got me interested in other aspects of crocodilian functional anatomy. For instance, how does joint stiffness interact with other factors, such as muscle activity and properties of the ribs, skin, and armor in living crocodiles? Previous studies by Frey and Salisbury had commented on this, but the influence of those factors is less tractable to experiment on or model than just naked backbones with passively stiff joints. In the future, I’d like to study vertebral movements during locomotion in crocodiles – especially during bounding and galloping – to find out how these patterns of stiffness relate to movement. In the meantime, our study shows that, to a degree, crocodile backbone dimensions do give some clues about joint stiffness and locomotor function.

To find out more, read the paper! It was just featured in Inside JEB.

Julia Molnar, Stephanie Pierce, John Hutchinson (2014). An experimental and morphometric test of the relationship between vertebral morphology and joint stiffness in Nile crocodiles (Crocodylus niloticus). The Journal of Experimental Biology 217, 757-768 link here and journal’s “Inside JEB” story

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