Don’t pet the platypus. I know it’s tempting: Given the chance, I’d want to stroke their thick brown fur, tickle those big webbed feet, and pat that funny duck bill. And why not? What harm could come from this cute, egg-laying mammal from eastern Australia?
Plenty. As someone who doesn’t enjoy “long lasting excruciating pain that cannot be relieved with conventional painkillers,” I’d really regret petting a platypus. Especially a male platypus, in late winter, when there’s only one thing on his mind and, even worse, something nasty on his feet.
When British biologist Sir Everard Home got ahold of some platypus specimens in 1801, he told his fellow nerds at the Royal Society how the male specimen had a half-inch long “strong crooked spur” on the heel of each rear foot. The female, however, was spur-free. Home suggested that it “is probably by means of these spurs or hooks, that the female is kept from withdrawing herself in the act of copulation.” A very reasonable suggestion. But a wrong one.