Effects of apomorphine on mating behavior, flank marking and aggression in male hamsters

In male rats, the dopamine agonist apomorphine (APO) generally facilitates copulatory behavior. However, disruptive effects of high APO doses have been reported. These have been interpreted in diverse ways, as products of a dopaminergic system that inhibits sexual behavior or as consequences of APO's stimulation of competing responses. To test the generality of these effects, we observed APO's impact on copulatory behavior in male hamsters. Several effects were observed, all attributable to a relatively high dose and involving the disruption of male behavior. More unexpectedly, APO treatment caused males to attack estrous stimulus females in the course of these tests. To clarify these effects, we observed the effects of APO on flank marking, a type of scent marking closely allied to aggression and dominance in hamsters. Treatment reliably decreased the latency of marking. It also increased the rate of marking when appropriate measures were taken to prevent this effect from being obscured by drug-induced cheek pouching. Together, these results confirm and extend APO's well-known ability to increase aggression. Further, they suggest that APO-induced aggression can intrude into other contexts so as to disrupt, or possibly facilitate, other forms of social behavior.

The Daughters of Bridget McGhee

When Huxley proposed, Blythe imagined herself fifty years into the future at his funeral. He was such a good man, they’d say. Seventy-two is too young, they’d say. She’d nod and, she had imagined, remember this moment – them lounging in her bed during the early afternoon with the sunlight threatening to burst from behind the drawn shades, him lying on his side with his left arm anchored around her waist, and the tickle of his thumb as he traced circles on her bellybutton. She rubbed her nose against his neck and breathed. His scent was different from that of Walter. Huxley smelled of pears and basil. Walter smelled of leather and soap. She didn’t smell Walter intentionally, of course. He walked into the White Dog the prior day while she was drinking a mint-mocha cappuccino and studying for an exam on medical physiology. The wind whiffed his odor towards her. She didn’t look at him, but she couldn’t stop from inhaling. “People get married after college,” Huxley swung his right leg over and straddled her, forcing her to look at him. “It’s almost been a year since we graduated. It’s what we should do.” She had wondered if he could donate organs if he were seventy-two years old. Not his liver or heart or anything like that, of course, but maybe his eyes. It’d be a shame if they couldn’t preserve his eyes. She noticed them first: they were alert and misty blue, like Santa’s. But then she wondered if eye characteristics like color were even changed during cornea transplants. Walter had plain brown eyes. She hated brown eyes. She told people that she had brown eyes, because they were dark and no one ever looked close enough. Except Huxley. They were at dinner with mutual friends and were talking about eye color, and how they all wished that theirs were like those of the young Afghan girl on the 1985 cover of National Geographic.