All language subtitles for Stay At Home Animal Dads

NARRATOR: They're the unsung heroes
of the animal kingdom.

It's the males that
look after the babies.

These are the fathers who fly solo.

When mum takes off, they step up.

Dads doing all the work.

They start to, doing some wiggling
motions and sucking their way up

on his back, until all of them
are on the back of the father.

It's role reversal gone wild.

Doting dads and deadbeat moms.

He must have fallen to the ground
with only one wing and walked

all the way back to his nest.

With only one parent,
the stakes are high.

So what is it about these devoted
dads that makes them go it alone?

Scientists have long been
fascinated with this question,

but are just beginning
to uncover the answers

to this evolutionary mystery.

It's one of those magical moments,
rarely captured on camera.

A seahorse in the wild,
giving birth.

But this pregnant parent
is no ordinary mum.

In fact, it's not a mum at all.

It's dad!

The male seahorse, effectively,
is pregnant and these young develop

in this pouch for several weeks.

And at the end of that development,
there's tiny little seahorses

which have hatched inside
the pouch and the male

will actually expel them.

Sigal Balshine is on a quest
to understand why some dads

are single parents.

I study animal behaviour
in the light of evolutionary

and ecological theories,
so I try to really understand

what animals do and why
they do those things.

She's fascinated by this
exclusive caregiver's club.

Parental behaviour is probably
the most intriguing

behaviour out there.

It's so variable across different
animals and I find it absolutely

fascinating to think about why
and how animals have come up

with such different solutions to how
to look after their young.

Probably the rarest and most
interesting kind of care

that's out there is male only care.

It's one of evolution's most
intriguing mysteries.

When it comes to parenting,
why do some males do all the work?

It's a question that has
baffled scientists

ever since Charles Darwin,

who observed these strange looking
creatures Down Under.

The emu is one of the most extreme
examples of male parental care.

The females simply lay
the eggs and then leave.

The males, on the other hand,
incubate the eggs

and then take care of the chicks for
up to 18 months.

BALSHINE: Charles Darwin realised
that emus were sex role reversed.

But funnily enough, he said

that it wasn't just in their
parenting instincts

that they were role reversed,

but he said that they were role
reversed in their moral qualities.

He called females "quarrelsome,
savage and noisy".

He called the males
"gentle and good".

It's fairly common knowledge
in Australia

that the dad emu does all the
raising.

NARRATOR: Whether they're in the wild
or on a ranch,

the males are the nurturers.

Emu farmer Penny Henley has a bird's
eye view of this unusual lifestyle.

It's probably more surprising
the fact that he is the sole parent

and I probably thought the mum had
a little bit to do with it.

But, like a lot of human dads,
they make absolutely brilliant dads.

NARRATOR: First comes courtship.

And it's the females who rule
the roost from the very beginning.

HENLEY: You'll see the girls,
they will fluff themselves up

and stick their necks out and drum
around and strut around,

and then she'll get
the interest of a guy.

NARRATOR: Egg laying is hard work,
but her job is soon over.

Dad's work is just beginning
and lasts much longer.

BALSHINE: Dads make the nest
all by themselves.

They make it out of bark and twigs
and sticks and grasses.

And they build this large nest
on the ground and then the female

lays her eggs in that nest
and he will incubate them.

He'll incubate them for eight weeks.

And during that incubation period,
he hardly eats, he hardly drinks,

he hardly poops, he's just basically
superdad on this set of eggs.

NARRATOR: Several females lay
their eggs in his nest.

Once they hatch, his job isn't over.

He has to protect all the chicks
from attacks by rival mothers.

They all want dad's attention
for their own kids,

not someone else's.

When it comes to the females,
I didn't know that they would

actually kill the chicks and attack
the chicks as badly as they did.

As soon as the little chicks call
out, every female comes racing over

to attack the chicks.

That surprised me.

I didn't think the ferocity
of the attack would be there.

NARRATOR: So while a competitive
mother's behaviour makes sense,

we still don't know why emu dads
are the sole caregivers.

But we do have one clue.

Emus and their cousins belong
to an ancient branch

of the bird family tree, where male
only care is the norm.

Some scientists speculate that
in birds, male care evolved first

and mums helping out
only came later.

And it's not just the emu.

Sex role reversal is also part
of the lifestyle

of a much tinier species, on the
other side of the world.

Deep in the heart of
Brazil's Atlantic rainforest,

biologists are on the hunt
for another dedicated daddy.

Hidden in the leaves,

these lanky creatures are easy
to miss -

unless you know what you're looking
for.

Because they are so tiny
and their behaviour is so intricate,

I have to pay attention really close
to what they are doing.

NARRATOR: Gustavo Requena has spent
15 years researching parental care

in harvestmen - also known,
appropriately enough,

as daddy longlegs.

They're distant relatives
of spiders, but without the webs

or the venom.

REQUENA: We mark them individually
with the animal ink.

Every individual receives
an individual mark.

So, we can track where they are,
what they are doing

and how long they survive.

NARRATOR: Female harvestmen have a
dream gig.

Once they lay their eggs,

they're free to live
the single life again.

For males, fatherhood
is a seemingly thankless task.

Daddy day-care involves up to four
months upside down on a leaf,

protecting a pouch of
tiny, gelatinous eggs.

REQUENA: Males of this species,
they can mate with a lot of females.

They stay in one plant, in one spot,
waiting for females to arrive.

Females cruise the forest,
looking for a love leaf.

But the attraction has to be mutual.

It's up to the female to decide
who she wants as dad for her eggs.

This female is seeking a male that
already has a clutch of eggs

from other females.

They're proof that he's a good dad.

REQUENA: It is at night
that they mate.

Males and females
can reject partners

or search and select
the best mates, lay eggs.

So most of the reproductive
activity happens at night.

After they lay the eggs,
and sometimes they can lay two,

three, 10, 40 eggs, they leave
and the male just stays

with a new clutch of eggs
and his multiple clutches.

NARRATOR: Now the real work begins
and it's all up to dad.

REQUENA: A really, really successful
male

can mate with over 15-20 females in
just a few months.

We are talking about more than 500
eggs in the same clutch.

So, when we see a really large egg
clutch,

we can see different colours

because throughout the embryonic
development, those embryos,

they are producing melanin, so,
the old eggs, they are darker,

the really recently laid eggs,
they are white, and usually,

there is this sequence from the apex
to the base of the leaf.

NARRATOR: But all that care
comes with a price.

REQUENA: While they take care
of the eggs, males hardly eat.

So over that month, two months,
three months that they stay

with the offspring, their body
condition decreases a lot,

so they use the energy
that they stored before they mate

with the first female.

NARRATOR: While the guys go hungry,
the girls dine out.

And when females are on the prowl
for a meal,

someone else's eggs can be very
tempting.

REQUENA: Female of the same species,
they are voracious predators.

Once they find an unattended
clutch,

they basically eat as much as
possible.

Where do these cannibalistic
urges come from?

To Sigal Balshine, it's
all about efficiency.

BALSHINE: Why would a female who
makes eggs - eggs are expensive -

why would they turn
around and eat them?

Well, it makes a lot of sense
if they're not your eggs,

because eggs actually contain tons
of nutrients and are very rich

in things like fats,

and so if you get to eat some
of these, that's to your advantage,

you can turn that nutrient
into your own eggs.

NARRATOR: So protecting their eggs
from harm

is a key role for do-it-all dads.

The extreme sacrifices these emperor
penguin dads make are remarkable.

And when it comes to parenting,

few species can match
the male emperor penguin.

Although famous for their devotion,

male emperor penguins don't
parent entirely alone.

But while their mates
are at sea feeding,

the males incubate their precious egg
alone for two months,

eating nothing at all.

These dads can lose 40%
of their body weight.

BALSHINE: The female lays an egg in
Antarctica

and then she leaves and goes to sea,

leaving her partner
to care for the eggs.

Now these guys are caring for eggs
in -40, -50 degrees Celsius.

They're just incredible,
and they don't leave

and they stay there for two months

through this terribly cold period of
time.

NARRATOR: Being a good father for a
few months while mum's gone fishing

is one thing.

But being completely alone
with the kids when mum takes off -

and never returns - is another.

In the shallow waters off
the coast of Sweden,

this mysterious streamlined creature
- the broad-nosed pipefish -

is well camouflaged
in a shag carpet of green.

All pipefish species are special
in the way that the males care

for the offspring, but they don't
just care for the offspring,

they also carry the
offspring on their body.

NARRATOR: Scientist Charlotta
Kvarnemo wants to know why.

KVARNEMO: What really intrigues me
about these fish

is how does male care evolve
to this extent?

NARRATOR: To understand how they
parent, Charlotta and her colleagues

have investigated how pipefish get
pregnant in the first place.

KVARNEMO: First, they have a very,
very long courtship dance.

They kind of just swim next to each
other, check each other out,

line up together.

At one point, the females start
to transfer eggs

into the male brood pouch and to do
that she has a little ovipositor,

a little like a - almost
like a penis that she inserts

into the male brood pouch,
so the eggs get transferred

into his pouch.

The male sinks to the bottom
and when he does that,

he shakes his body,.

It looks really cool,
he kind of does this wriggle,

a rapid wriggle, and the eggs get
shaken down to the bottom

of the brood pouch.

And right after that,
he has his little stiff S posture

on the bottom.

He stays absolutely still like an S.

We don't really know
what he's doing right then.

NARRATOR: Could it be the moment
of conception? Perhaps.

But Charlotta has an even more
fundamental question.

KVARNEMO: Why do they have a brood
pouch,

when we don't see any obvious
benefits of it?

Why do they do it in
such a complicated way?

That's a beautiful male.

NARRATOR: Other pipefish species
have a simpler method.

Males carry eggs
glued to their skin.

But in broad-nosed pipefish,
pregnancy and parental care

is a highly complex process.

KVARNEMO: They kind of seal up and
form a very closed environment

around the fertilised eggs,
that now become embryos

and start to develop.

NARRATOR: Pipefish fathers do more
than just hold the embryos,

they take care of them.

In order to grow, the embryos need
oxygen and nutrients.

Dad's pouch is full of blood vessels
to transfer the nutrients and oxygen

to his eggs - even
at his own expense.

KVARNEMO: We know that pregnant males
have poorer survival,

especially a male brooding
a pouch full of eggs.

Looks like he has large eggs
at the top of his brood pouch

and then these small
ones at the bottom.

NARRATOR: Not all pipefish are
equally fabulous fathers.

Sometimes, if he's hungry,
he'll absorb some of his own eggs.

KVARNEMO: He seems to be able to, in
a way,

cannibalise some of the offspring
and use the nutrients for himself.

We're going to keep them
here in the paternity ward

until they are fully developed
and ready to give birth.

NARRATOR: Some dads carry the full
burden

of nurturing the next generation,

even replacing mum
in the maternity ward.

But for other species,
single fatherhood

is about a lot
more than just tending eggs.

Springtime on the coast
of southern British Columbia.

It's time for this weird
looking creature -

the plainfin midshipman -
to become a proud papa.

This is a species that
Sigal Balshine knows well.

Every spring, around early April,
the males leave the deepest,

darkest parts of our ocean,

and they make this amazing vertical
migration up to the intertidal zone,

where it's shallow and there's a lot
of nutrients and a lot of light

and even air exposure at low tides.

They find a rock that they really
like and then they'll excavate

and they'll dig out a nice
little burrow or nest

or den for themselves.

For the past eight years,
Sigal has come to Crescent Beach

to research this remarkable
daddy of the deep.

BALSHINE: So what you can see here

are some of these beautiful
orangey-yellow eggs

and this male in this nest is the dad
of all of these eggs.

The plainfin midshipman is this
crazy-looking toadfish.

It looks prehistoric.

They have these light-emitting
cells, about 700 or even more.

And these look like brass buttons.

NARRATOR: These glowing "buttons"
reminded the scientist who named them

of a navy officer's uniform -
hence the name, midshipmen.

These fish don't just look odd,
they make strange sounds too.

BALSHINE: Plainfin midshipmen are
considered the canaries of the sea

or the singing toadfish.

They make these amazing long,
low frequency hums.

And they do it only in the spring
and to attract females.

The males can hum for up to five
hours, it's quite incredible.

And they'll hum for the girl fish,
and the girl fish love these sounds

and they'll come up
into the intertidal

and then choose
the male who sounds the best.

NARRATOR: Before serenading females
with song, preparation for fatherhood

involves construction work.

Males build a cozy nest by digging
and removing any barnacles or kelp.

And that's only the first step
in becoming a good provider.

BALSHINE: The female's laid her eggs,
she goes out back to the sea,

never to be seen again until next
year,

and it's dad who's stuck
at home looking after the kids.

And these males will keep the eggs
wet, they'll moisten them,

they'll fan them, they'll bring
oxygen to the eggs with their fins.

NARRATOR: Talk about multitasking.

And it doesn't stop there.

So the males actually perform
hygienic duties

and clean any diseased eggs.

When there's not anyone performing
the kind of cleaning duties

in a nest, the eggs can
all get diseased and die.

NARRATOR: With dad at the helm,
egg-sitting under his renovated rock

can last up to four months.

BALSHINE: That's an incredible
lengthy parental care period

for any fish.

And what's more incredible is
they're fasting during this period.

There's nothing for them
to eat in these nests

and when we open up their
tummies, they're empty.

NARRATOR: What's more, Sigal's fish
DNA analysis

suggests that only half
of a caring dad's eggs are his own.

There are other kinds
of males in the population

which we call "sneaker" males.

And these males are tiny and they're
basically bags of swimming sperm

and all they do is they dash
into a nest,

they turn themselves around and
squirt their sperm in,

and then they dash out as fast
as they possibly can.

These little males,
these sneaker males,

they don't care for young,
they don't court females,

they don't build a nest,
they do nothing.

NARRATOR: Yet, a good father fish

will look after a sneaker male's
kids.

Why would an upstanding
dad compensate for this

beach bum's behaviour?

Sigal has discovered that the perks
outweigh the perils.

Many, many fish that provide
parental care for their young

already are guarding a territory.

He's already having to stick around
looking after an area,

so he might as well look
after the babies

that are in that area
that he's defending.

NARRATOR: When it comes to single
fatherhood,

fish aren't the only committed dads.

There are even a few
amphibians who do daddy duty.

Most frogs grow up with no
help from either parent.

But for these tiny frogs in a great
big rainforest in French Guiana,

danger looms large.

It's a jungle out there.

I will now to try
to catch this male.

so that we can take a closer look
who he is

and for how long he's been around.

NARRATOR: Max Ringler and his
colleague Andrius Pasukonis

study poison frogs by tracking them.

The tiny device is attached
to a special pair of "pants".

OK, so these, to my knowledge,

are the only frog pants
in the world.

There's a little silicone waistband
that we use to attach

the transmitter to the frog,

and we're going to put them on this
pretty boy here.

Now the frog is all set
with the transmitter.

And with this transmitter, we can
basically come any time we want,

check, find him, see what he's doing,

which frogs he's meeting,
if he's transporting tadpoles,

if he's finding females.

NARRATOR: This dendrobates tinctorius
frog he's just caught is a new one.

It's one they haven't marked
and photograph before.

RINGLER: The frogs, they have
unique belly patterns,

and with the help of
an identification software,

we are able to recognise every
frog in our population.

But now our database of the last
almost 10 years

includes more than 2,000 individuals
that we were all able to identify

just by this pattern.

NARRATOR: Allobates femoralis males
are vocal,

calling loudly to attract a female.

To reproduce, the male
and the female find a private spot

and deposit their eggs
and sperm simultaneously.

The females will lay
eggs for multiple males,

increasing the chances that at least
one of the dads will be a good one.

RINGLER: The females are highly
promiscuous.

On one hand, you can see this
as genetic shopping,

so they try to get the best
genes from all the males

that are available.

On the other hand, it's also sort
of risk spreading

because once the eggs are laid,
the responsibility for the tadpoles

and the eggs stays with the father.

So she's not trying to put
all eggs in one basket,

just to put all the responsibility
towards one male

but to spread it out across several
males.

In contrast to mammals, for example,
where females have to stay

with the offspring, to breastfeed
them, frog eggs are just laid

in the water on the leaf litter.

So females are not specifically
attached to their eggs,

which makes it easier for the males
to take over the job of the females.

NARRATOR: After a few weeks, the
fertilised eggs become tadpoles.

If the weather is dry,
dad will do his duty -

even taking a pee on his progeny
to keep them comfy and moist.

But this dad is much more
than a careful caregiver.

Dad is their mobile home,
transporting their tads around

to the best swimming pools.

BALSHINE: These frogs have taken
advantage of the fact

that they can kind
of expand into new niches.

They've gone terrestrial,
if you like.

Most frogs need water and these
frogs also need water,

but they found that water on land.

But on land, these pockets of water
can dry up and change over time.

PASUKONIS: The main job is actually
the tadpole transport,

the main and the hardest job.

The tadpoles themselves have
to wiggle on the back of the male.

RINGLER: They start to suck up
on their father's back,

basically doing some wiggling
motions and sucking their way up

on his back until all of them
are on the back of the father.

PASUKONIS: The tadpoles attach really
strongly to the male.

We're not sure exactly how they do
it, but it seems that it takes them

quite a while to get into a good
position for the tadpole transport.

NARRATOR: No seatbelts here - just a
sticky mucous to keep them glued on.

Once all the kids are aboard,
dad becomes a family van.

Seeking just the right spot before
dropping off the kids

at a carefully chosen pool.

But they aren't alone when it comes
to this level of dedication.

There's another solo flier whose dad
duties are just as demanding.

But we have to look up.

Way up, to the northernmost
tip of Alaska.

WOMAN: I've always
really loved birds.

In fact, my first word was "duck".

For me, it's been really a matter
of trying to figure out a way

where I can make my love
of birds a career.

NARRATOR: Researcher Willow English
is fascinated

by the phalarope's breeding
behaviour.

All right, so I'm just getting ready
to weigh this bird

and make a sort
of phalarope burrito here.

NARRATOR: Red phalaropes mate
here every summer.

ENGLISH: So after they arrive,
they start feeding

and they also start pairing up.

So females will start
trying to find a male.

The males are mostly looking to find
a mate and looking to eat

to get ready for incubation.

So once a pair bond is formed,

the males and females stick
very close together.

So the female wants to make sure

that other females aren't
going to steal her mate

and the male wants to make sure

that other males aren't going to mate
with his female.

NARRATOR: Males are left behind to do
all the incubation and chick rearing

on their own.

ENGLISH: The phalarope nest is just
a scrape in the ground, really,

with a little bit of insulation.

He'll start making a little bit
more cover for the nest,

so he'll pull some grass over it
so that it's less visible.

NARRATOR: The male stays behind,
trying to bundle up

and keep his kids warm
on the tundra.

ENGLISH: They have to sit there
for three weeks on this nest,

even though it could be snowing,
it could be hailing.

NARRATOR: It can be a cold, cruel
world, but here, dad holds the fort,

toughing it out in
all kinds of weather.

Last year, I found a nest right
when the chicks were hatching

and the male only had one wing
from hitting a power line.

He must have hit the power line,

fallen to the ground with only one
wing

and walked all the way back to his
nest and sat on his eggs

for another few weeks,

and that really shows that they can
be great fathers.

NARRATOR: Caring dads are also daring
protectors,

even against enemies
much larger than themselves.

It's quiet at BC's Crescent Beach -
at least for now.

This midshipman has stopped humming.

Now, he's busy taking
care of his eggs.

It's a tad lonely in his man cave,

but that's the least
of his problems.

He's got battles to fight.

Another male is lurking nearby,
hoping to make a hostile takeover.

BALSHINE: Even after a male has
really established himself

and has his own batch of eggs
and is being a good dad,

he's under threat from other males
who want to come in

and try to take over his nest.

NARRATOR: Even if the midshipman
fends off other males,

he has to guard against egg eaters,
including crabs and shrimps.

The future of his developing eggs -

stuck to the ceiling of his rock
nest - is at stake.

BALSHINE: These males have
to deal with so much.

So not only are they air-exposed
for, you know,

up to eight hours a day, but they're
also bombarded by predators.

Eagles are feasting
on the midshipman right now.

Herons are, gulls are.

Both mammalian predators and avian
predators just hit these guys

left, right and centre.

NARRATOR: Avoiding getting eaten

is just one more challenge
for these doting dads.

Sigal and her team are numbering
and photographing slate tiles

to keep track of the status of males
and their nests.

Later they will return to collect
samples of DNA

to see how much of dad's brood is
biologically his own.

After fertilising his precious
clutch of eggs,

often from multiple females,

a male midshipmen has his work cut
out for him.

For starters, he'll need
to protect his precious progeny

from drying out.

At low tide, he'll need to splash
water on his eggs

as they cling to the ceiling of his
rock nest.

One thing is clear -
without dads to look after them,

eggs are unlikely to survive.

BALSHINE: Any parent who provides
care for their young

is taking on a cost,

an energy cost, a time
cost, a survival cost.

If you're defending your young,
you're more likely to get injured

or eaten by a predator.

You're spending your time running
around getting food for your babies,

not feeding yourself.

It's costly to be a parent.

NARRATOR: Back in Brazil, a daddy
longlegs is also on security detail.

While the females are gallivanting
around the rainforest,

it's up to him - and him alone -
to protect his eggs from predators.

Enemies of this light
green dad include other,

bigger species of harvestmen,
who could gobble up his eggs.

REQUENA: Males can attack those egg
predators very aggressively.

They use a spiny appendage called
pedipalps and they attack

and try to grab legs
of other harvestmen.

NARRATOR: In this David and Goliath
battle, even though he is smaller,

dad manages to fend
off his attacker.

So the eggs are safe, for now.

But that's not the only danger.

Here comes a female.

Now, dad must play detective
to decipher her intentions.

Is she looking for
love, or just lunch?

This time he gets lucky
and she wanders off.

It's a lot for a single parent
to manage, but harvestmen dads

are surprisingly resilient.

REQUENA: What we found is that males
that stay around with the offspring,

they survive more than individuals
that are not associated to the eggs.

NARRATOR: So why is it better for
harvestmen dads to parent solo?

Gustavo's research suggests that
staying put as a dad

is less dangerous

than roaming around this
predator-filled environment alone.

And there's an added bonus -

daddy longlegs has multiple mates
that come to him.

Good parenting has its benefits.

But for dads toughing it out
alone,

the rewards aren't
always as plentiful.

PASUKONIS: It's a pretty tough world
for these frogs in the jungle.

We've seen frogs with injuries
from birds,

we've seen frogs getting
eaten by snakes.

And we see lots of amazing things
that have not been reported

or known before.

Predation events are always quite
dramatic and exciting.

NARRATOR: Drama and danger are part
of everyday life in the rainforest.

Remember the dad backpacking his
kids,

shuttling his tadpoles
to the water?

Choosing the right pool
is a matter of life and death

for his little swimmers.

Danger lurks all around.

But as security guards,
dads are not perfect.

Threats can be difficult to spot.

PASUKONIS: Dragonfly larvae
are the really vicious predators

that will often get the tadpoles.

NARRATOR: This hungry dragonfly larva

has just had its dinner delivered by
a frog father,

who failed to carefully check out the
pond.

Finally, dad climbs carefully
into the pool to drop off the kids.

But our dad carefully
surveys the water.

He's looking for dragonfly
larvae and waterbugs.

If he sees only dragonfly larvae,
he will continue his search.

But if he sees dragonfly
larvae and waterbugs,

he'll drop off the kids.

He knows that waterbugs will eat

some of the dangerous dragonfly
larvae.

His daddy duty is done -
at least for now.

If their pool dries up, he'll be back
to taxi them somewhere else.

For some animals, fatherhood
is an even bigger commitment.

The job doesn't end
when Junior appears.

It's been a tough three weeks
for this phalarope dad.

That's how long he's been sticking
it out on the tundra,

sitting on his eggs.

But now the weather is warmer,
the grass greener.

All his hard work
is about to pay off.

At first, dad keeps his chicks
warm under his body,

safe in the nest.

But these chicks are precocial,
meaning they are alert and agile

as soon as they hatch.

Soon, they're checking
out their new home.

Daddy only care is more common
in shorebirds

than in many other birds,

where usually both mums and dads
raise the kids.

In shorebirds, their
chicks make it easy.

They hatch almost ready to go.

But as security guard,
dad isn't off the hook just yet.

A hungry jaeger nearby waits
patiently for the opportunity

to feast on the chicks.

Dad is on it and quickly
hides his youngsters away.

Once the babies arrive, many animal
parents don't stick around.

They don't need to.

In most cases of solo male care,
like these harvestmen,

dads are primarily there
to protect the eggs

until they hatch into nymphs.

PASUKONIS: So it takes about a month
until the eggs complete development

and the nymphs hatch.

The nymphs stay with the clutch area
for about one or two days,

and then they leave.

So there's no post hatching care
from the male's perspective.

NARRATOR: The newly hatched nymphs
munch on their eggshells for a snack

and a few days later,
this dad's job is done.

Where the babies go to grow up,
that's still a mystery.

And then there's the emu.

Back in Australia, it's the moment
dad has been waiting for.

HENLEY: The little chicks do an
amazing job.

And usually, once they do get out,

they won't get up and try to walk
for probably 12 hours.

They just basically sit around
and look at their toes

and snuggle up underneath dad, keep
away from his big, hard legs.

If the dad is not real sure
about what's going on,

well, he might try to peck him

or chase them underneath
the feathers,

if he's concerned about predators.

NARRATOR: He hasn't had a meal or
even a proper drink

for the last eight weeks, but his job
is just beginning.

Fatherhood will be a full time
commitment for the next 18 months.

He's more than a protector -
he's their teacher,

guiding his stripy kids
to a successful emu life.

The devotion of these
fathers is impressive.

This rock star dad, the midshipman,
looks after his own kids

and those of other dads too.

Though he'll return to the deep once
the babies hatch out,

his devotion has a lasting impact.

Daddy longlegs is an extraordinary
parent too,

keeping a close eye
on his embryos, and by doing so,

helping his own survival.

Scientists continue to be surprised

by the complex behaviour
of these wild dads.

We often think that teamwork is key
to raising kids

or even that mums do
the lion's share of the work.

But in nature, it's more common for
parents to provide no care at all.

That's what makes these
exceptional papas so special.

Why many of these star dads fly solo
is a mystery still being unravelled,

but it's high time we celebrated
these stay at home animal dads.