Pacific Science Center's Grossology exhibit rates 5 eeews

With no hesitation, Patrick Miles of Monroe thrust his hand into several dark, covered boxes and tried to identify the skin-crawling substances inside. His favorite was the jellyfish feel, "because it's squishy," the second-grader explained.

The more disgusting, the better for Miles and other gleeful visitors to the "Animal Grossology" exhibit that opened Saturday at Pacific Science Center.

"I love this exhibit and think it's pretty cool, because it has gross stuff and gross is what I like," said Miles, 8, before racing across the room to examine owl pellets.

Adults were captivated as well.

Stephanie Ma of San Francisco watched her 31-year-old husband, Michael, make falling-bomb sounds as he pushed a plastic-encased hairball through the digestive tract of a cat illustration.

"I can't wait 'til we have a kid," Michael Ma enthused.

Slime, blood and foul smells play big roles in the exhibit, which is based on a book in the Grossology series by Sylvia Branzei.

But the recurring theme is scatological.

Even comedian George Carlin would have delighted in the variety of non-curse terms for excrement.

The dung beetle display alone introduces a "caca glob," "dookie ball" and "pure poo."

Another display features a mechanical stuffed penguin describing which pile of poop belongs to which animal. There are illustrations and life-size models of scat (from mountain lions and wolves), pellets, droppings and road apples (from deer, rabbits and horses), dung (from cows, camels and elephants), splay and more droppings (from birds) and guano (from bats and seabirds).

In case the visual depictions fail, there are colorful descriptions. Dung, for example, comes in "large Hershey-kiss shaped piles. ... Imagine dropping chocolate cookie dough on a warmed baking sheet."

Nearby is a recipe for poop-like cookies with cocoa and green food coloring.

Six-year-old Peter McGuire of Seattle refused to be creeped out.

"It's not so gross," said the kindergartner.

McGuire took a long look at a tapeworm display with a model of human feces in a toilet. He gently closed the lid and walked away.

Melissa Allison: 206-464-3312 or mallison@seattletimes.com