Are you a lockdown eel or a pygmy goat?

I identify strongly with the garden eels in the Tokyo aquarium. Pre-corona, they were perfectly sociable. Come opening hour, when visitors’ faces began to squash against their glass, they’d happily stare back. Every week that goes by without visitors, the eels become more fearful and these days, the aquarium reports, when the keeper arrives to check on them, the eels vanish into the sand.

Me too. Much as I long to get out and about, at the same time I can feel myself losing the knack of sociability. I jump when the man from Amazon knocks; slither quickly back into my basement kitchen after the daily outing.

There are psychologists looking intently at us in lockdown. There will never be another chance to see how humans behave under these weird conditions. There are behavioural experts looking at zoos now too: how do animals who have spent their lives being watched cope when the watchers disappear? I think that it’s the same for us as it is for those animals in the zoo: complicated and varied. How you react depends very much on what sort of animal you are.

Take big cats, the narcissists of the animal kingdom. They’re having a lovely lockdown. The absence of oglers has restored to them their sense of self and the usually uptight tigers and lions are now mating of their own accord, which is rare. And in Delhi Zoo, the elephants are no longer constipated. Because there are no paparazzi waiting by their water trough any more, they amble about peaceably and drink when they’re thirsty. If you’re ever struggling to think of an upside to this terrible situation, just consider the elephants’ bowels.

But nothing’s ever simple with this virus. Most zoos around the world are posting updates about inhabitants on their websites and, in almost every case, there are just as many animals who hate it.