Monday 9 February 2015

Oscar the Orca: Depression in large sea mammals.







"Cage an eagle and it will bite at the wires, be they iron or gold"
- Henrik Ibsen, The Vikings of Helgeland


Oscar the Orca was a whale. Oscar lived in a small tank in a large water park. Oscar had daily visitors. They were strange land creatures that lived outside the water. They would often speak to Oscar, but he could not understand the noises they made. They were the same creatures that brought him to his new home. Oscar was lonely and confused.


Every day, Oscar would play in front of the land creatures, jumping out of the water. They would slap their fins together and make loud noises when he played in his tank. He would often wonder what they were doing, why they were watching and what the noises meant. They did not sound like the squeaks and calls made by his brothers and sisters. Oscar did not understand.

Oscar missed his family, his friends and his freedom. Like most orca's, and prior to his life in a tank, Oscar spent all of his time with his family, or "pod". Male orca's will stay with their mothers' pod their entire lives, welcoming their partners' and offspring into the same pod. They are social creatures who communicate with one another in an advanced way.

The creatures who played with Oscar directly every day noticed he was sad. Some of them knew his behaviour was different to wild orca's. Some of them knew that scientists had noticed an orca whale's brain is the biggest of any animal in the world. The scientists did tests and studies to show just how advanced the orca whale is as an organism, how effectively it communicates with its kin, how advanced its behaviour is, how it is arguably as intelligent, if not MORE intelligent than the land creatures that put him in the tank, than any creature that has existed on this planet to date.

Oscar was physically healthy (well, healthy enough to remain alive), but he no longer seemed content to play for the land creatures any more. He watched them with sadness, a certain longing. At the end of every day, Oscar knew he would repeat the exact same processes the very next day. Evolution designed him to think for himself, to play, to communicate in an advanced fashion with his peers and to carefully plan his hunting strategies. Since he began his enclosed life, he could no longer fulfill his purpose, the reason for his existence.

The Oscar Keepers knew that something must be done. They saw similar behaviour in some land creatures which doctors would treat with medicine. The medicine would numb their pain, dull their perceptions and allow them to continue their existence, in a dazed and content manner, despite the underlying causes of misery in a life of ignorance and captivity. Eureka! They had the answer. They could give the same medicine to Oscar. Oscar would go back to performing for the land creatures and making them smile.

A few weeks into his treatment, Oscar was better than ever! His mood was up, he performed with grace and without much provocation. He often thought of his former life in the wild, but somehow it did not seem very important anymore. Oscar settled into his routine and lived happily ever after.