What do you think of a fox with its tail between its legs and pressed against its belly, that brings grass and mud into its den to make a deep nest, and lays eggs? Or what do you think of a fox that spends hours each day on the bed of a stream, diving for food, with its eyes, nose and ears closed tightly, but still finds plenty of food? – You find the whole idea absurd? I don’t. Actually, I’m not a fox at all, even though my pelt isn’t any less beautiful or soft than a fox’s pelt. But I’m not quite the same size as a fox. I’m only half a metre from my head to the tip of my tail. I dig my own den but mine is usually in the bank of a stream. I sleep there most of the day. Only seldom do I slip out into the sun, where I carefully comb out my fur with my hind claws. You see I only vaguely resemble the fox.

An Original Crossbreed

It so happens, however, that I’m quite similar to many other animals. (If you want to deduct from these similarities that I’m related to them, then that’s up to you!) My tail resembles that of a beaver. The “poison fangs” on the hind paws of my mate could be those of a viper. The webbing between my toes could be from a frog, and my bill could be from a duck. That last item, by the way, is one of my most important organs – and not just for feeding. This bill gave me my name: Platypus. I lay eggs like a bird, but nurse my young like a cat. I can swim like a fish, and dig like a mole.

No Place in the Family Tree

Yes, you’re right! If you look at me, I can be a little confusing. Where do I really belong? To the fishes, or birds, to the mammals or to the snakes? Actually, I have something from each of these. Many scientists figure that I am a 150 million year old transition form between reptiles and mammals, an animal that isn’t quite complete. I’m pretty modern for my age, don’t you think? The scientists who have worked on me have been surprised by my super-modern equipment and my superlative capabilities. They can’t explain why such an “old” organism has these capabilities, and are not quite sure on which branch of the family tree they ought to hang me. But I don’t think much of all that stuff. I don’t belong in any family tree whatsoever, but consider myself as a master work of a fantastic artist: God. And I know that I am not His only remarkable creation. You yourself are just as much a creature made by His hand…

Unknown in Europe

Until the 19th century, we were completely unknown in Europe. As the first reports of us filtered in, scientists didn’t know whether or not to believe in the existence of such a strange thing. They were afraid of falling for a hoax, and so they decided that somebody had painstakingly fastened a leather bill and webbed feet onto the torso of a beaver. But we really do exist. We come from eastern Australia, and are completely at home in the streams and lagoons there where we can find fresh water.

I do admit, though: I made it difficult for the researchers. Whoever wanted to see me, had to follow me into the water at night. I fished there in the darkness, with my eyes tightly closed. If he did happen to see me, he noticed that I can easily swim around any obstacle, and that I chase shrimps and invertebrate animals, and then stuff them into my cheek pouches. Then, above the surface he could observe how I surfaced with full cheek-pouches, gradually emptied the contents into my mouth and ate at leisure. In this way I can eat up to half my body weight in food every day. Can you imagine how much food I have to find every single day?

A Fascinating Bill

Finally, one of the researchers had the idea of studying my bill more carefully. He found that the soft upper surface of my bill is pierced with thousands of tiny holes. My Creator installed a miniature valve plug in each of these openings, coupled to a sensitive nerve. In this way, the sense of touch is transmitted immediately to the brain, and I can react more strongly than I could to an impulse from my eyes, ears, or other parts of my body. If I had only these mechanical receptors (scientists call them touch sensors), I would have to collide with an obstacle under water before I could react. But that’s not the way it works. The researchers went to great lengths to track down the Creator’s secret.

Between the touch sensors on my bill, my wonderful Creator distributed a multitude of similar structures, which react to electrical impulse. These sensors are dependent on certain glands that secrete a slimy substance, and therefore only function under water. In addition, there are special nerve endings which also react to weak electrical currents.

Do you really believe that such refinement is the result of chance and necessity, mutation and selection, or whatever other clever words you might use? These words suggest that these things just happened by themselves. From what I have seen, chance doesn’t bring anything important into existence. The results of mutation are almost always harmful to the organism. Selection chooses only from things that are already present. It never produces anything new.

While swimming, I swing my bill from side to side two or three times per second. In this way I receive the finest electrical impulses emanated by crabs and other small animals, and thus am able to take off after them.

A Thermal Diving-Suit

Another of my remarkable specialities is the capability to regulate my body temperature. Even in the winter I need to eat, and have to spend hours in the icy water. No other animal could stand the low temperature for so long. My Creator, however, furnished me with a hairy diving suit which insulates me from cold better than the fur of a polar bear. I can also alter my rate of metabolism significantly, so that even after several hours in icy water at a temperature of about 0 degrees Celsius, my body temperature is still 32 degrees.

A Dangerous Poison

Every male platypus received a hollow spur on his hind foot from the Creator. It is up to 1 ½ centimetres long, and contains a strong poison. There is no other animal in the entire mammal kingdom with such a venom injector. The poison is produced in a gland on the thigh. Your scientists still don’t really know why it is there. My partner uses the inward facing sharp spur during fights against other males of our species, to defend our territory.

The poison is very strong. A dog which is wounded by the spur dies within a short space of time by paralysis of breathing and cardiac functions. I heard of one scientist who tested a small dose, just 0.05 millilitre, on himself (1 ml = 1 cubic centimetre). He injected the poison into his lower arm and later complained of excruciating pain.

My Tail and Feet

Just as the Creator gave the camel his humps, He gave me a flat tail. As a fat storage system, it is an excellent fuel tank. It also acts as a rudder for me when I swim or dive. And when I’m on land, I can press it between my legs against my stomach and can carry all sorts of useful things around with it.

Swim webbing is nothing unusual, of course. Lots of other land animals and birds have it. But it is somewhat refined in my case: on land, webbing is not very useful. As a matter of fact, it gets in the way and interferes with running. But I can fold my webbing away inside and so use my feet easily for running, climbing, and digging. I generally try to build my dwelling in the steep bank of a stream. I make the entrances so tight that entering my den presses the water out of my coat. You have to admit: a practical set-up.

Laying Eggs, and Nursing Young

Something else: when mating season comes, my mate takes my tail very gently in his bill, and we then swim in tandem in a circle for several days. This is our mating ritual. During that time, several 4-millimetre size eggs migrate down my left egg tubes. There they are fertilised by sperm cells from my mate, and they develop a first soft shell for protection. The eggs (there are three at the most) then migrate into my uterus, where they receive a second shell. When they have reached a size of 12 mm, they get a third and final coating. My young are nourished by these amazing shells during their first days – without an umbilical cord.

But there is no additional opening for my offspring to emerge through. The two or three eggs are expelled through the opening that otherwise is used for excretion. That’s another reason why the threefold protection is necessary. The sticky eggs land on my belly, and I press my warm tail over them. I incubate my young there until they are ready to hatch.

In the meantime, the Creator causes a single, small eye-tooth to grow on the upper gum of my offspring’s mouths, with which they are able to tear open the soft, rubbery shell. My tail remains wrapped around them and holds them firmly to my belly. Two days later, I am able to provide them with milk. But you have to understand, I have no breast nipples. The milk simply exudes from a milk-field through my fur. There, my young slurp it up with their soft little bills.

By the way, my milk has an amazing iron content (60 times higher than cow milk). The Creator set it up that way since He knew that the livers of my young are too small to store all the iron they need.

You can see from everything I have said: I’m not a prehistoric animal, an animal that time forgot. My Creator equipped me perfectly for the life I lead on the east coast of Australia, the place I call home.