Bhutan's Takin: A Divine Madman's Leftovers

Drukpa Kunley was not your ordinary Buddhist holy man. Known as the Divine Madman, the 15th-century teacher had a reputation for drinking, womanizing, outrageous behavior and an approach to religious instruction that frequently scandalized more respectable society.

He also had quite an appetite.

One day, a group of villagers asked him to perform a miracle. He agreed, on one condition: they first provide him with a cow and a goat. For lunch.

Having polished off both animals, he gathered the remaining bones, attached the goat's head to the cow's skeleton and commanded his creation to come alive. And so the takin was born.

Considering the ingredients, it turned out surprisingly well.

A face only a Divine Madman could love

The takin is one of those animals that makes you wonder whether nature was working from a particularly confusing set of instructions.

Imagine a small, exceptionally well-fed cow that has somehow acquired the legs of a mountain goat, a shaggy coat and a neck that seems to have been designed to support something considerably heavier than its head. Then there's the nose, broad, bulbous and rather prominent, as though somebody decided the creature needed a little something extra at the last minute.

The horns curve upward, the ears stick out at odd angles, and the expression suggests an animal that has heard it all before and isn't particularly impressed.

Viewed from the side, the takin looks reasonably respectable. Viewed head-on, you begin to understand why the Divine Madman had such an unusual reputation.

Despite looking like a collection of spare parts, the takin is a perfectly real animal, related to goats and sheep, and found in the Himalayan mountains. It is also Bhutan's national animal, an honor that seems entirely appropriate for a creature with such an entertaining origin story.

Thanks, but we'll stay here

The takin's story takes another entertaining turn in the hills above Thimphu, Bhutan's capital.

For years, a small collection of takins lived in a zoo at Motithang. Eventually, the authorities decided that keeping wild animals in captivity wasn't particularly consistent with Buddhist principles, so they closed the zoo and released the animals.

The takins were free to return to the forests, roam the mountains and resume their lives as wild Himalayan creatures. Unfortunately, nobody seems to have consulted the takins.

Having grown accustomed to regular meals and a relatively comfortable existence, they reportedly wandered around Thimphu rather than heading off into the wilderness. Apparently, the freedom to forage for your own dinner wasn't quite the incentive the authorities had imagined.

Eventually, a forested enclosure was established at Motithang, where the animals could live in more natural surroundings while still enjoying the benefits of a reliable food supply. Today, visitors to the Motithang Takin Preserve can see Bhutan's wonderfully peculiar national animal without having to venture into remote Himalayan forests.

And the takins? They've got room to wander, plenty to eat and nobody expecting them to perform miracles.

Considering how their story began, that's probably a pretty good arrangement.