
The California Academy of Science is home to the oldest aquarium fish in the country, which loves pets — but the Aquarium of the Bay also has a finned dog.
Fish are smarter than we give them credit for. Many species recognize their keepers and are capable of forming not only friendships but allyships with different species. (Clownsifh, for example, are among just a handful of animals to practice mutualism as a means to secure housing.) In fact, members of the group Elasmobranchii, which contains modern-day sharks and rays, can understand concepts of time; accounts of large marine stingrays creating bonds with humans are not unheard of.
In San Francisco, Methuselah — the 90-plus-year-old Australian lungfish that came into San Francisco on a steamship from Queensland, Australia back in 1938 — loves head rubs and being handfed figs from her tank at Cal Academy’s Steinhart Aquarium. She’s an icon, a legend, and, in fact, has remained the moment for years. Though her star power as SF’s foremost “puppy fish” shines bright, there’s another saltwater doggo-like creature vying for equal adoration: a Bay Ray inside the Aquarium of the Bay’s public touch tank.
Bat rays are frequently encouraged along the western coast of the United States between Oregon and California. Despite having powerful jaws — filled with grinding teeth they use to crush hard-shelled invertebrates like crabs, oysters, and abalone — they’re peaceful fish. Because they’re in the same group of marine stingrays, bat rays are intelligent creatures, capable of developing connections and associations with people.
For example: The charismatic ray at the Pier 39-located aquarium will pull itself out of the water to greet people.
“Hi, hi puppy fish,” a woman can be heard ooing in a recently uploaded Instagram Reel by [at]christinekim.creates, showing the young bat ray seemingly begging for attention. The video has since gone viral after being uploaded about a week ago; as of publishing, it’s been viewed millions of times and garnered almost 500,000 likes. It seems no food was used to lure the ray — “their bottom feeders” — and it’s unclear if the ray has developed an association with keepers (and by proxy, people) to being fed. At one point, the keeper guiding the tour points to the phone-wielding individual, gesturing to the fish to “go over there.”
It followed suit. Without missing a beat.
The young bat ray’s behavior is utterly adorable and remarkable, raising its head out of the water, splish-splashing the aquarium water while flapping its bat-like fins (hence the name, bat ray). While the ray is the aquarium’s most personable ray, the behavior isn’t alien or unheard of in bat rays; aquarium staff noted that such behaviors, though not to this extreme, have been observed with some frequency in the wild.
If you’d like to see this adorable puppy of the oceans for yourself, the Aquarium by the Bay’s “touchpool” exhibit is open to the public from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Sunday.
Now we just need Pixar to jump on this, ASAP.
