Armed but not dangerous
Despite being emblazoned with built in knives, Feather-faced talking cats could be the most peaceful bottom dweller you’ll ever buy, writes Coral Vane-Wright.
UNLESS YOU’RE a hardcore catfish fanatic, or regularly enjoy scouring your local fish shop for rare or unusual finds, you may never have come across
Ossancora punctata before. At first glance these small and thorny catfish could be overlooked as ‘dull’, but nothing could be further from the truth. I can honestly say since buying them some six odd years ago, they remain one of my all-time favourite fish.
While not a new species to either the hobby or science — the fish was first described in 1853 — it has in recent years undergone a name change, and prior to 2011 was known as Doras punctata.
It’s not uncommon for O. punctata
to be incorrectly identified and imported under the wrong name, typically as Ossancora eigenmanni or Opsodoras stuebelii, so you need to be vigilant if you’re hunting for this fish in particular.
Ossancora is a genus within the Doradidae family, a group of freshwater catfish endemic to South America. Colloquially you might have heard Doradidae catfish (or ‘dorads’ as they tend to be called) referred to as ‘talking’ or
‘thorny’ catfish.
On inspecting any dorad, the origins of the thorny name become obvious, and some have absurdly sharp and jagged flanks; there’s good
reason one of the more famous dorads, Oyxdoras niger, is granted the title of ‘Ripsaw catfish’, with its arsenal of blades. Ossancora punctata also has spiky bony protrusions running down the lateral line, albeit on a much smaller scale (excuse the pun). But where does ‘talking’ come from?
Vocal cats
The more we learn of the world of fishes, the more we discover just how ‘acoustic’ their lives can be, and Ossancora can also stake its claim to being a noisy species.
The sounds it generates are achieved by the fish locking its pectoral fins in place and grating the fin bones against the socket to produce a simple noise which is then amplified via the swim bladder — the internal bag of air acts as an inbuilt sonic drum.
I confess that my own O. punctata are seldom verbal, mainly uttering noises whenever I have to catch them, but it can take you by surprise if you aren’t expecting it. I’ve yet to hear my fish ‘talking’ to each other as a form of communication, and the verbal barrage seems to be reserved for me whenever I need telling off. The sound isn’t the easiest to describe, but think of it as a highpitched reverberation akin to something a croaking frog might produce. It’s a notably different sound to that from my noisier Jaguar catfish, Liosomadorus oncinus, who produces low guttural grunts at any fish who gets near her cave — a noise that my partner once charmingly described as ‘a fart in a bathtub’.
While hearing your fish can be an interesting phenomenon, don’t purposefully stress out your fish to get them to perform. Avoid using nets when trying to catch them as this inevitably leads to them getting their sharp fins or thorny sides caught, and trying to free them is a stressful endeavour for both parties.