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Looking around Costamuchamoulah must-seen cafe, I observed quite a few

females reaching out in various biomechanical elongations of upper limbs, in

order to select the multifarious gastronomic goodies which are temptingly on

show.

Oddly enough, I had just been reading Michelle Warwicker‘s report for the

BBC on female octopuses who apparently go to extraordinary lengths in

their extensions to reach food.

The image of Nigella’s night-time fridge raids came to mind, for some

reason.

Clammie joined me within a few seconds and we were able to further monitor

the rapid placing of personal articles on spare chairs by grasping tentacles,

evidently adapted to reserving space for feeding and communicative activity.

The environment and lifestyle of cephalopods means that they have to be

capable of complex and flexible behaviour. A study from Macquarie University

revealed episodic personality, which seemed to suggest that the creatures

relied on visual signals when interacting.

Of course, there are Dumbo octopuses too and the Incirrate species favour

shallow habitats.  Maybe I belong to the hyponym group, who squirt ink when

annoyed.

There might even be a kind of class system going on, as hemocyanin means

that blood can be a bluish colour. Some of the species that I have seen

frequenting Suttonford’s aquarium of life, red in tooth and claw, certainly

create the impression that such a fluid is coursing through their forms.

All octopuses can squeeze through small spaces, so this is a useful adaptation

when tables are few and vacant chairs far between.  Being an invertebrate is a

useful quality when the pressure of increased population density squeezes

personal space. Of course many go on seasonal migrations when life gets too

crowded.

Males of the octopus vulgaris species are thought to reserve their extending

hectocotyli-don’t ask!- for mating purposes, while females utilise the stretch

for acquiring food. This would appear to contradict the hierarchy of need in

most males’ taxonomy, as far as I construe.

What’s for tea? is usually the first and perhaps sole utterance of the standard

male returning from forages on the sea bed.

Spag bol, the female tends to reply, if he is lucky.  She then extends an arm to

the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard in order to conceal her private cache of

Mini-eggs, simultaneously affecting a wiping gesture with a J-cloth over the

polished coral worktops, in order to give the impression that she has been busy

all day in domestic chores, rather than floating around, with the odd billowing

for effect.

Other tentacles are briskly shoving designer carriers under the spare bed.

But, at the end of the day, males are simple to please: give them Octopussy

any time and they will go off quietly to their own habitat and then females can

happily congregate in their designated reef areas for superior social activities.

Don’t be complacent about them, warned Clammie.  They look pretty,

but-remember- all octopuses are venomous!

Including us! I said, popping a marshmallow into my mouth.

Especially us! she agreed.

But we camouflage it, don’t we?

Not entirely, she said and I think there are those who would agree.