Nature is full of fascinating and sometimes brutal adaptations, but few are as shocking as the birthing process of the spotted hyena. You might think childbirth is a universally painful experience, but hyenas take it to an entirely new level.
Female hyenas have one of the most unusual reproductive anatomies in the animal kingdom—what appears to be a penis is actually an elongated clitoris, known as a pseudo-penis. This rare adaptation makes mating, birth, and survival incredibly difficult for both mother and cubs.
Let’s dive into the science, struggles, and evolutionary mysteries behind why hyenas experience one of the most challenging births in the wild.
Hyenas’ Unique Reproductive Anatomy: A Bizarre Evolutionary Twist
The female spotted hyena (Crocuta crocuta) is unlike any other mammal when it comes to reproduction. Unlike most female mammals, hyenas have no external vaginal opening. Instead, their labia are fused together, forming a pseudo-scrotum, and their clitoris is elongated into what resembles a fully functional penis.
This means that both mating and giving birth happen through a narrow, tough, and inflexible canal—a structure that poses serious risks to both mother and cubs.
But why would evolution favor such an extreme adaptation? The answer lies in hyena social structure and dominance.
The Link Between Dominance and Reproductive Anatomy
Hyenas live in strict matriarchal societies, where females outrank males in dominance. The unusual reproductive anatomy is believed to be an evolutionary adaptation linked to social hierarchy.
- A Display of Strength: A larger pseudo-penis might act as a dominance signal, making it clear which females hold power in the clan.
- Hormonal Influence: Female hyenas have higher testosterone levels than males, leading to increased aggression and dominance over the pack.
- Mating Challenges: Males must earn the right to mate, as females control copulation with their complicated anatomy.
Video : Hyenas’ Brutal Birth: The Most Painful Labor in the Animal Kingdom
While this system gives females power, it comes at a terrible cost when it’s time to give birth.
Why Giving Birth Is So Dangerous for Hyenas
Imagine trying to push a newborn through a passage too small, too rigid, and highly prone to tearing. That’s exactly what female hyenas go through every time they give birth.
Here’s what makes hyena birth so deadly:
- A Super Tight Birth Canal
- The pseudo-penis acts as the only birth canal, but it is long, narrow, and lacks the elasticity of a normal vagina.
- This makes labor extremely difficult and painful, with a high chance of the tissue tearing.
- First-Time Mothers Face the Worst Risks
- Many first-time mothers do not survive the birthing process due to severe ruptures.
- Those who do survive often suffer from long-term damage to their reproductive organs.
- High Cub Mortality Rate
- A staggering 60% of hyena cubs suffocate before they are fully delivered.
- Since the birth canal is so tight, cubs often become trapped and die before they can emerge.
- A Painful Recovery Process
- After birth, the pseudo-penis often ruptures completely, forcing it to heal over time.
- Mothers suffer weeks of pain and vulnerability while their bodies recover.
Despite these brutal challenges, hyenas continue to thrive, and their unique reproductive system has remained largely unchanged for millions of years.
How Do Hyenas Mate? The Struggles of Reproduction
If you think birth is difficult for hyenas, mating is no easier. Males must overcome significant anatomical and social obstacles just to reproduce.
- Males Are Submissive to Females
- Unlike in many species where males dominate, male hyenas are the weaker sex in both power and ranking.
- They must approach females cautiously, often displaying submissive behavior to gain approval.
- Navigating the Pseudo-Penis
- Since females have no traditional vaginal opening, males must carefully maneuver through the pseudo-penis to copulate successfully.
- This requires both patience and precise positioning, making it one of the most complex mating processes in the animal world.
- Only the Strongest Males Get to Reproduce
- Males don’t fight each other for dominance like in other species. Instead, they must earn the female’s trust over time.
- Females choose mates based on persistence, patience, and respect, ensuring only the most determined males pass on their genes.
Given how dangerous and inefficient the reproductive process is for hyenas, one might wonder why evolution hasn’t corrected this issue.
The answer lies in survival strategy and social dynamics.
- Matriarchal Control Guarantees Stronger Cubs
- By limiting mating to only the most persistent males, female hyenas ensure that their cubs inherit strong genetics.
- This method prevents weaker genes from spreading, keeping the species robust.
- Higher Testosterone Helps With Survival
- The same high testosterone that makes birth difficult also makes female hyenas stronger and more aggressive.
- This aggression helps protect their cubs and maintain dominance in their environment.
- Fewer Cubs = More Resources
- Since many cubs don’t survive birth, the ones that do are often given more attention and resources.
- This ensures the strongest cubs make it to adulthood, increasing the clan’s overall survival rate.
The Resilience of the Spotted Hyena
Despite their brutal birthing process, hyenas have thrived for millions of years. Their ability to adapt, dominate, and survive proves just how powerful evolutionary trade-offs can be.
- They are among Africa’s most successful predators, competing with lions for food.
- Their clans are ruled by powerful females, ensuring only the strongest members survive.
- They have some of the most advanced social structures in the animal kingdom, making them highly intelligent and strategic.
Video : The Most Extreme Births In The Animal Kingdom
Conclusion: Nature’s Ultimate Test of Survival
Hyenas are proof that nature often prioritizes survival over comfort. Their unique reproductive anatomy, extreme birthing challenges, and dominance-driven society have allowed them to thrive despite overwhelming odds.
While their birth process remains one of the most painful and deadly in the animal kingdom, it also ensures that only the strongest females and cubs survive.
So the next time you see a spotted hyena, remember—they’re not just fierce scavengers. They’re survivors of one of evolution’s toughest reproductive challenges.
I Was Late to My Grandmom’s Funeral—When I Finally Got to Her Grave, There Was a Small Package with My Name on It
When Teresa’s grandmother passes away, she races across continents, desperate to say goodbye… but she arrives too late. Wracked with guilt, she visits the grave, only to discover a mysterious package left just for her. As Teresa navigates grief and love, she learns that some bonds transcend time, offering solace in the most unexpected ways.
When my uncle called that morning, I knew something was wrong before he said a word. His voice had this sharp, clipped edge, but I could still hear the strain in it.
A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Grandma’s gone, Teresa,” he said. “She passed last night.”
For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if my mind refused to process the words.
“The funeral’s tomorrow,” he added. “If you’re not here, we’ll have to bury her without you.”
“What? Tomorrow?” My voice cracked. “I can’t… there’s no way I can get there that fast!”
A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Then don’t bother,” he said curtly. “She’s gone, Teresa. We won’t wait for you… we can’t.”
I stood frozen, phone in hand, the sharp beep of the call ending pulling me out of my stupor. My uncle Craig, ever the practical and unyielding one, had spoken as if my grandmother’s passing was just another event on a packed calendar.
But she wasn’t just my grandmother. She was my everything.
A smiling old woman | Source: Midjourney
She’d raised me after my mom passed, back when I was too young to understand what death meant. Grandma became my world. She stepped into the role of mom, confidante, and teacher with ease.
Life with her was a steady rhythm of love and laughter, her warmth filling the void my mother’s death left behind.
The thought of not being there for her, of not saying goodbye, tore at me.
An upset woman looking out of a window | Source: Midjourney
I booked the first flight out, throwing clothes into a suitcase without even checking if they matched. I wasn’t even sure if I had suitable funeral clothing, either. Every second felt like a betrayal.
I couldn’t bear the thought of her being lowered into the ground while I was thousands of miles away, stuck in some airport terminal.
The plane ride was unbearable. I was unable to eat, my food tray just sitting there, the food getting cold and congealing. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t watch any of the movies or listen to music.
A tray of airplane food | Source: Midjourney
I was numb.
Memories of my grandmother flooded my mind. Her stories, her hugs, her quiet wisdom… I kept telling myself I’d make it in time, but when I finally landed and called my uncle, the funeral was already over.
“We couldn’t wait, Teresa. Don’t act shocked. I told you this already,” he said flatly.
A woman standing in an airport | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived at her house, it was empty, stripped of the life it once held. My cousins had cleared out, leaving behind traces of their rushed goodbyes. There was a half-empty water bottle on the counter, a crumpled tissue on the sofa, someone’s forgotten lipstick on the floor.
I stood in the doorway, letting the silence engulf me.
Grandma’s favorite chair was still by the window, the blanket she’d always kept on her lap folded neatly over the back. On the side table, an unfinished knitted sock lay abandoned, the lavender yarn still threaded through the needles.
A ball of yarn and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
I reached out, brushing my fingers against the soft fabric, and the tears came in a flood.
She had been working on this. Just days ago, she’d sat here, humming softly as she knitted, probably thinking about some old family recipes.
I sank into the chair, clutching the sock like it was a lifeline. Memories of her voice, her laughter, her love, rushed over me. The ache in my chest was unbearable, but I didn’t want it to stop.
This pain was all I had left of her.
An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When the sunlight began streaming through the window, I wiped my face and stood. There was one thing I still had to do.
I stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of daisies, her favorite. The drive to the cemetery was a blur, my mind racing with all the things I wished I’d said, the moments I wished I could relive.
The grave was easy to find.
A bucket of daisies at a florist | Source: Midjourney
The fresh mound of dirt stood out starkly against the older, weathered headstones. My breath hitched as I approached, the reality of it hitting me all over again.
This was it. Her final resting place.
But something caught my eye. At the base of the grave, nestled in the dirt, was a small package. My name, Teresa, was scrawled on the paper in her unmistakable handwriting.
A package in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I picked it up, my heart pounding.
The package felt almost warm, as if her love had left a mark on it. I tore at the wrapping, revealing a folded note inside.
My dear Teresa, it began.
I know your uncle probably won’t let us see each other one last time. I don’t know where I went wrong with him… but he’s always been jealous of the bond we share. I need you to know this: Teresa, you are my love, my joy, and the light in the darkest of days.
I asked Rina to leave this package on my grave after I’m gone. This is so you’ll never be late again.
A woman reading a note in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I gasped.
Grandma had planned this? Had she known exactly how things would unfold?
And it made sense to me. Craig probably thought that Grandma was going to leave a whole lot of money to me, her house even. Not that I wanted any of it…
“Oh, Gran,” I muttered.
An old woman writing a letter | Source: Midjourney
Tears blurred my vision as I opened the smaller package inside. A gold wristwatch glinted in the sunlight, its face encircled by tiny diamonds. I turned it over, and there, engraved on the back, were the words:
Grandma and Teresa. Always and Forever.
I dropped to my knees, clutching the watch to my chest. The ache in my heart swelled to unbearable proportions. She had thought of me, even in her final days, leaving behind this symbol of her love for me.
A woman holding a watch in a box | Source: Midjourney
As I sat there, the pieces of her note lingered in my mind.
My uncle. His jealousy.
It all made sense now, the way he’d rushed the funeral, his brusque phone calls, the coldness in his voice. He’d never hidden his resentment, but to think that he’d taken it this far… refusing to wait even a few hours.
Still, as much as his actions stung, I couldn’t let them overshadow what I held in my hands. The watch wasn’t just an heirloom, it was a promise.
A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
It was the promise of a connection to my grandmother that time could never erase.
The cemetery was quiet as I stood by her grave, sharing memories, apologizing for being late, and thanking her for everything she’d given me.
When I finally stood to leave, I slipped the watch onto my wrist. It felt like a piece of her was with me, tangible and eternal.
A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
The house was still empty when I returned, but it didn’t feel quite as suffocating anymore. I stood in the living room, looking at the remnants of her life, her unfinished sock, the framed photo of the two of us by the mantel.
Moments later, the door opened.
“Teresa,” he said. “What are you doing here? Why bother to come when everything is over?”
“How can you ask me such a question?” I gasped.
A grandmother’s living room | Source: Midjourney
“She was old, Teresa,” he said. “What did you expect? That the old woman would live forever?”
“When did you get so cruel, Uncle Craig?” I asked.
“When did you get so self-righteous?” he spat.
Before I knew it, two men from a moving company walked into the house.
Two men standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m taking the furniture. And those expensive plates and vases. I’m going to sell them.”
“Gran will never forgive you for this,” I said simply, sitting down on the couch.
“Gran is long gone, Teresa. It’s time to move on. And don’t try to contest the will,” he said. “Gran would have given everything to me. I can’t wait to give Rose her watch. My mother would absolutely want her first-born granddaughter to have it.”
A cupboard with expensive crockery | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my sleeve down, hoping that Craig wouldn’t see the watch. I wasn’t going to hand it over. No way. But at the same time, I didn’t want to entertain Craig. He could take everything else.
A few months had passed since I left my grandmother’s house for the last time. Life had resumed its usual rhythm, or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside.
The watch stayed on my wrist, its weight a constant reminder of her. Some days, I caught myself holding it, brushing my thumb over the inscription as if I could summon her voice.
A watch on a person’s wrist | Source: Midjourney
One evening, I made myself a cup of tea, Gran’s favorite chamomile blend, and curled up on the sofa with a blanket. The unfinished sock from her house now sat on my coffee table, neatly placed in a small knitting basket.
I picked up the knitting needles, my fingers still clumsy and awkward with the motions. She’d tried to teach me once, years ago, but I’d been too impatient to sit still.
A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“One day you’ll see,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “That knitting is like life. You just keep going, one stitch at a time.”
One stitch at a time.
A lavender sock and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
Judy and her family get into the habit of saving money in a “family stash jar,” which is used for emergencies or family outings. But soon, she starts noticing that someone in the family has sticky fingers, helping themselves to the money. Judy has to figure out who it is and what is the reason for such dishonesty.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Leave a Reply