Not only is she a TV producer with an amazing sloth documentary to her credit but her baby sloth YouTube videos from Costa Rica are a revelation to many. She is also the founder of the Sloth Appreciation Society which now has about 10,000 members.
This new book, however, which is subtitled A Menagerie Of The Misunderstood, shows that her enthusiasm and expertise extends far beyond the world of sloths.
She treats us to chapters on eels, beavers, hyenas, vultures, bats, frogs, storks, hippos, moose, pandas, penguins and chimpanzees, with all of whom she seems to have had personal experiences that are unfailingly informative and uproariously funny.
Using her extensive knowledge of medieval bestiaries to good effect, she traces our views of each of these creatures from absurd myths to modern science and it is extraordinary how long many of the myths have survived, giving a lingering, wrong-headed view of the animal.
She cites a recent case of a German couple who attended a family planning clinic and had to be told that in order to conceive babies, it was not enough to have a stork’s nest on the roof. Having sex would also be useful, they were told.
Other examples of animals we have misunderstood include penguins, which are a long way from being the perfect advert for family values suggested by the film March Of The Penguins.
In fact, they are among the worst examples of infidelity and even prostitution known in the animal kingdom. Hyenas are not at all cowardly. Bats, mostly, are not vampires and vultures are actually quite noble and useful birds.
Lucy Cooke’s irrepressible humour, as well as her audaciousness, comes through most strongly when she recounts her own experiences.
Investigating whether sniffing beaver testicles really is a good treatment for hysterical women, she writes: “Feeling a tad hysterical myself, I decided to try and get my hands on the beaver’s phoney gonads and take a sniff for myself.
“I wrote a series of surreal emails to hunters I found by searching online, politely introducing myself and then asking them to post me their beaver gland booty. None of them replied.”
She persevered, however, and eventually managed to find what she was looking for. It was very smelly “but not at all unpleasant”, she reports.
On a similar theme, when she gets to bats, she tells us: “I was quite taken aback the first time I saw a bat’s penis,” and there is a picture of Lucy holding a full-frontal bat.
To judge from her big grin, however, it looks as though the bat was more perturbed. You must also read the book to form your own opinions of what a hippo might have thought about her smearing its own sweat on her arms, for good scientific reasons, of course.
Beautifully written, meticulously researched, with the science often couched in outrageous asides, this is a splendid read.
In fact, I cannot remember when I last enjoyed a non-fiction work so much.