The spotted lanternfly (Lycorma delicatula) is the new kid on the block and current poster child for runaway invasive pest insects in the United States. This bug, a member of the planthoppers (Auchenorrhyncha), hails from China and its surrounding countries. One of the reasons for its off the charts threat level is its polyphagous diet. The insect feeds on the phloem of plants in a broad range of taxonomic groups (Urban and Leach 2023). Many of those groups contain economically important plants, including but not limited to hops, grapes, apples, stone fruit, almonds, pine, and hardwoods like walnut (USDA 2023). The tree of heaven (Ailanthus altissima) is its preferred host. The spotted lanternfly was first detected in Pennsylvania in 2014 and it has since spread across a large portion of the eastern U.S. (New York State Integrated Pest Management Program 2023). The range is rapidly expanding and is projected to reach a majority of the country. Many quarantine zones have been established to help slow the spread (Urban 2020). Despite these efforts, the bug will almost certainly breach these boundaries and continue to grow in numbers. Although it does best with its preferred host, mentioned above, the lanternfly is capable of reproducing without access to this resource (Uyi et al. 2020). However, development time is slower and fewer egg masses are laid before the northeastern winter kills the remaining adults. But in states with warmer climates, it could potentially survive the winter and create more offspring (Uyi et al. 2020, Xin et al. 2020). This adaptability makes it an even more threatening economical and ecological pest.
The tree of heaven – a lanternfly’s favorite food (Credit: Pixbay)
The spotted lanternfly itself is quite stunning. In adults, the forewings are leathery in texture and a pinkish grey with contrasting black spots. This color becomes criss-crossed with a mosaic of yellow veins on the distal third of the wings. Underwings are striking red and black with a white bar on each one. The first three instars of the immature stage are black with white spots and become an intense red with black and white spots by the fourth and final instar. Being beautiful does not give these insects a pass, though. Large congregations, sometimes up to 1,000 per tree (Urban 2020), in urban and suburban areas excrete large quantities of honeydew that results in sticky buildup beneath the plants on which they feed. This sugary coating encourages the growth of sooty mold that severely impacts the health of affected plants (Urban and Leach 2023). This is becoming particularly problematic in vineyards (Urban, 2020). The mouthparts of lanternflies also leave seeping wounds in plants, causing physiological stress and leaving an entry point for pathogens (Uyi et al. 2020). Controlling the dispersal of spotted lanternflies can be very difficult because of how flexible the insects are with where they lay their eggs.
Sooty mold growth caused by honeydew (Credit: Scott Nelson)
Management strategies are evolving as more is learned about the lanternfly’s life history and ecology as it pertains to the United States. Great care must be taken when transporting goods and equipment from areas where infestations occur. Lanternflies will lay their eggs on trees, cut wood, concrete, in the wheel wells of vehicles, and on any other natural or artificial surface that is suitable (Urban and Leach 2023). Local and federal government departments have information readily available about the pestilential planthoppers and how citizens can combat them. The primary directives are to smash adults and nymphs on site, check belongings before traveling or transporting anything in and out of buildings, destroy any egg masses found, and report sightings to help track the spread (USDA 2023).
The life cycle of a spotted lanternfly (Credit: USDA)
The standard method of agricultural and environmental industry control remains the application of chemical insecticides, particularly the neonicotinoid dinotefuran and a variety of pyrethroids. The downside to these treatment strategies is the negative effect they can have on non-target species when applied to large areas (Urban and Leach 2023). Emerging control methods that are less environmentally harsh consist of exclusion netting, targeted insecticide application, and bio pesticides such as Beauveria bassiana, a soil dwelling fungus. Other entomopathogenic fungi are currently being explored as options as well (Urban and Leach 2023). Xin et al. (2021) surveyed parasitoids of the spotted lanternfly that occur in its native range, but more research is needed to determine whether they are practical as biological control agents.
A spotted lanternfly adult with its brilliant red hind wings displayed (Credit: Chesapeake Bay Program)
As the spotted lanternfly invasion problem continues to evolve, many challenges are arising. The use of pesticides, as mentioned, can impact unintended targets. There is also potential for the bugs to develop resistance to the chemical weapons we throw at them. Less environmentally harmful substances including neem and essential oils have shown only mild efficacy at a local level. Sticky traps encircling tree trunks sometimes kill birds and small mammals as bycatch and do not really have a significant impact on heavy populations of lanternflies anyway (Urban and Leach 2023). There is no perfect solution and management strategies will have to change along with the pest. Only time will tell what level of havoc this beautiful destroyer will wreak upon our economy, agricultural industries, and environment.
References: 1. Urban, Julie M., and Heather Leach. “Biology and management of the spotted lanternfly, Lycorma delicatula (Hemiptera: Fulgoridae), in the united states.” Annual Review of Entomology 68 (2023): 151-167.
4. Urban, Julie M. “Perspective: shedding light on spotted lanternfly impacts in the USA.” Pest management science 76.1 (2020): 10-17.
5. Uyi, Osariyekemwen, et al. “Spotted lanternfly (Hemiptera: Fulgoridae) can complete development and reproduce without access to the preferred host, Ailanthus altissima.” Environmental Entomology 49.5 (2020): 1185-1190.
6. Xin, Bei, et al. “Exploratory survey of spotted lanternfly (Hemiptera: Fulgoridae) and its natural enemies in China.” Environmental Entomology 50.1 (2021): 36-45.
Ants. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. They’ve been around for ages and outnumber us by over a million to one. They’re not just home invaders and picnic crashers; they’re the only other animal known to have sophisticated agriculture and manage herds of livestock. With more than ten thousand species to choose from, there’s an ant for every occasion. Did you rip your favorite shirt? Make friends with some weaver ants. Are you looking for someone to mow your lawn? Hire an army of grass cutter ants. Is life dull and you just want a thrill? Try bothering a stampede of African driver ants and get the adrenaline rush of a lifetime. I’ve mentioned ants before, but now is their time to have the spotlight.
African driver ants, or Siafu, are infamous for their nomadic colonies that devour anything and everything in their path. Blind soldiers with massive jaws guard the perimeters as the workers march on, carrying the young and the queen. Photo by Peter Steward on Flickr.
I couldn’t possibly cover every ant I would like to in this article, but I did manage to choose a select few, starting with the infamous bullet ant (Paraponera clavata). This ant is well known to have the most painful known insect sting in the world. As its name infers, the sting is likened to having a bullet wound. Justin Schmidt, a dedicated and somewhat eccentric entomologist, has painstakingly (pun intended) stung himself with as many insects as possible to compile the Schmidt Sting Pain Index. The pain of various insect stings, which he describes in wildly imaginative detail, are ranked from 1 to 4 (with 4 being the most painful). Can you guess who won that coveted number 4 on the scale? Take a moment. I’ll wait. Okay, now that you’ve guessed I can confidently assume that you thought about the bullet ant. After all, it is the star of this section. If you did choose the bullet ant, you’re wrong. That honor actually goes to the tarantula hawk wasp. No, the bullet ant doesn’t play by the rules. It has a sting so awful that it got its very own ranking of 4 plus. Not even the scale could contain the pain. As with many other animal toxins, bullet ant stings affect voltage gated sodium channels on cell membranes. This can wreak havoc on a cell’s ability to transmit signals, especially in the central nervous system (CNS). The blocked signals in nociceptors and skeletal muscles are what leads to the intense pain, paralysis, uncontrollable shaking, nausea, and more. The legendary sting of P. clavata is the reason it has become the gatekeeper of boys on their way to becoming warriors. The Sateré-Mawé tribe of Brazil has used this ant for years as part of a culturally important initiation rite. One sting is more than enough to cope with, but Mawé boys must endure multiple stings. Bullet ants are collected and dipped into a natural sedative to be safely woven into large gloves made from palm leaves. At the start of the initiation, a young man must slip both his hands into gloves filled with, now irate, immobilized ants. Only a thin layer of charcoal protects his hands and he must wear these gloves for five minutes straight and take the pain. What’s worse is the effects of the venom last well beyond these five excruciating minutes and boys hoping to become warriors must undergo this nightmare a total of twenty times before they are fully initiated. Forget jaguars, caimans, and anacondas. The Mawé people consider this humble ant to be the worst their rainforest home has to offer.
Great bullet ant photo by Graham Wise on Flickr.
Despite the potency of the venom delivered by the ant itself, one component may have medical significance. This compound of P. clavata, known as poneratoxin (PoTX),can have an analgesic effect in rats if administered in a small, controlled amount. Not only that, but it could potentially serve as a biological insecticide thanks to its ability to block transmission in the insect CNS.
Now it’s time for an ant that poses no threat to people, but is an amazing survivor. Meet the Saharan silver ant (Cataglyphis bombycina). This ant is capable of surviving conditions that would cook virtually any other living creature. In the Sahara desert, the surface of the sand can reach temperatures of up to 158℉ under the brutal midday sun. Several ingenious evolutionary adaptations give C. bombycina the ability to cope with this unforgiving environment while all others must either hide or perish. One strategy is to limit the time of exposure. Even these hardy ants will die if they are out on the scorching sands for long enough. That’s why they turn their foraging trips into a mad dash for their lives. Groups of ants leave their nest in a frantic search for other arthropods, such as desert beetles, that were too slow to escape the sun’s deadly rays. Once located, prey is dragged back to the nest as fast as possible via extraordinary teamwork. The poor animals that die and end up providing for these ants have succumbed to what is known as heat shock. Every living organism produces substances called heat shock proteins (HSPs). HSPs are tied to specific genes (heat shock genes) that, when activated by high temperature, are expressed and direct synthesis of HSPs by the cells. The purpose of these proteins is to protect the body from severe heat shock. Normally they are not produced until there is an environmental trigger, but Saharan silver ants start to produce them before leaving their nests. HSPs are synthesized preemptively to give the ants protection so they don’t die upon exiting their nest. This is because their foraging trips are usually too short to trigger synthesis of HSPs the normal way and the temperature rise would kill them before they got the chance. Not only are these HSPs produced before exposure, they continue to be synthesized beyond temperatures that would kill other animals, giving silver ants an even greater edge.
Another advantage over everyone else is long legs and a fast gate. Even though the sand itself may reach temperatures past what C. bobmbycina can tolerate, it is significantly cooler just a few millimeters off the surface. The long, stilt-like legs of this ant raise it off the sand just enough to keep its body below its critical maximum of 128.5℉. Long legs generally mean an animal can run faster, and C. bombycina is no exception. Its gait is a frenzied sprint that, at top speed, becomes quadrupedal. That’s right, these ants will actually lift their front legs off the ground completely to pelt forward as quickly as they can, and to minimize exposure to the sand. Running fast and limiting each foot’s contact with the ground allows them to go farther and keep cooler in their short bursts of foraging. They use the sun to navigate so that they can keep track of where they are in relation to their nest and how long they have been out.
Unfortunately, special proteins, great legs, and excellent navigational ability aren’t enough to beat the heat. Silver ants actually spend the majority of their scavenging forays offloading heat while sitting atop dry vegetation or stones. What allows them to do this so efficiently is the hair that gives them their name. These gleaming, silvery coats are what put them above and beyond everyone else when it comes to desert survival. Each individual hair is a triangular shape with two ridged surfaces and one smooth surface. The smooth surface sits against the body and the ridged surfaces face outward. When solar radiation hits the surfaces of these hairs, the ridges trap it and scatter that radiation back out in all directions. This is called “Mie scattering” and enhances the hairs’ reflectivity in the visible and near infrared range where solar radiation is at its strongest. In the mid infrared, the silvery hairs become antireflective and help the ants offload heat through emissivity. But what about the heat radiating off the ground? C. bombycina is prepared for that too. The undersides of their bodies are bare and reflect the mid infrared radiation from the sand better than if they were covered in hairs. All of these features, and more, combine to optimize survival and allow silver ants to be the lean, mean, foraging machines that they are.
There are countless ways to protect yourself from all kinds of threats if you’re an ant. Wearing what is essentially a heat shield or having a sting that will cripple your attacker with pain are just two. How about being heavily armored and using your head as a door to seal everyone out of your house? Using your own body as a barrier is called phragmosis and it’s what several genera of ants choose to do. Ants, as colonial animals, all have specific jobs to help their family. For ants in these phragmotic genera, usually the soldiers, that job is protecting the nest with their heads when the colony is threatened. The head structures, or cranial discs, that aid this can come in a variety of shapes and sizes that match their purpose. Some are even covered with sticky, fibrous secretions that accumulate environmental debris to help escape detection (cryptic phragmosis). Not only can they be used for blocking entrances, they can also be used like bulldozers to physically push intruders out of the nest. In one species of ant, Blepharidatta conops, it is the queen who possesses a head disc that she uses to block her nest chamber. The diameter is much too small to be of use blocking the nest entrance, but it certainly gets the job done when it comes to protecting her young. Perhaps one of the most diverse phragmotic genera is Cephalotes, also called turtle ants. In Cephalotes, generally all castes from workers to queens possess some kind of highly adapted head shield. These arboreal ants dwell high in the canopies of neotropical forests and use their heads to plug the holes of their wood cavity nests. They are also capable of gliding down from the canopy using what is known as Directed Aerial Descent, which is pretty cool. These ants are basically weird insect superheroes. Anyway, the morphology of the cranial discs prevents exposure of eyes, antennae, and mandibles to predators, just leaving them with a perfectly fitted, armored door to deal with. As mentioned before, these discs can be covered in organic material that sticks to glandular secretions, making entrances hard to locate in the first place.
For some really breathtaking photography of Cephalotes, please check out Alex Wild.
In a fantastic example of convergent evolution, there is a genus of Old World ant, Carebara, that has independently developed a very similar head shape to that seen in Cephalotes. The convex, shield-like head disc shape may have evolved independently even among separate species of Carebara. As ground nesting ants found in the leaf litter of African forests, Carebara workers have cephalic discs that collect soil and other debris, thereby camouflaging the nest entrances. They do not possess the sticky secretions of Cephalotes, but litter and soil easily collect on small hairs. When threatened by an intruder, they lock their heads down, making them both harder to see and the nest more difficult to invade.
Figure 1. from Fischer et al. 2015. The phragmotic workers of two Carebara species.
Reverse phragmosis has also been hypothesized, but as of now not proven, in the queens of the species Pheidole embolopyx. This is when the ant has a truncated (shortened), shield-like abdomen. So basically it’s a butt door. Or it would be if it was used to block nest tunnels. In the numerous experiments performed by E.O. Wilson and B. Hölldobler, not once did the study queen use her abdomen defensively. She always went on the attack, using her mandibles to nip at any threat they presented her with. She even turned completely around in her tunnel to attack the dissecting needle approaching her from behind rather than using her abdomen as a shield. It’s still a mystery what purpose this flat and potentially phragmotic abdomen serves. However, it does really reinforce the saying “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
That goes for any of the ants in this article or anywhere in the world. Ants have a bad reputation and we’re all too quick to judge them and make assumptions based on the bad experiences we’ve had with a handful of species. In reality, there are trillions more ants out there that are just going about their own business, often in a truly fascinating manner, and want nothing to do with us. Let’s appreciate and think about those ants before we go judging any ant we see.
The wonderful Justin O. Schmidt sadly left us in February of 2023. He was an invaluable and pioneering contributor to the scientific community and will be dearly missed.
The “King of Sting”
References:
1. Rykaczewska-Czerwinska, Monika, et al. “Antinociceptive Effect of Poneratoxin (PoTX) in Rats.” Pestycydy, no. 1-2, 2008, pp. 135–141.
2. “Sateré-Mawé Initiation.” Culture and Customs, Penn State and WordPress, 16 Nov. 2015, 1:15pm, sites.psu.edu/mgeitnerrcl/2013/11/16/satere-mawe-initiation/.
3. Torres, A.f.c., et al. “Molecular Pharmacology and Toxinology of Venom from Ants.” An Integrated View of the Molecular Recognition and Toxinology – From Analytical Procedures to Biomedical Applications, 2013, doi:10.5772/53539
4. Palma, Mario Sergio. “Insect Venom Peptides.” Handbook of Biologically Active Peptides, 2006, pp. 389–396., doi:10.1016/b978-012369442-3/50059-3.
8. Gehring, Walter J., and Rüdiger Wehner. “Heat Shock Protein Synthesis and Thermotolerance in Cataglyphis, an Ant from the Sahara Desert.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, vol. 92, no. 7, 28 Mar. 1995, pp. 2994–2998., doi:10.1073/pnas.92.7.2994.
9. Zollikofer, Christoph P. E. “Stepping Patterns in Ants II. Influence of Body Morphology.” Journal of Experimental Biology, vol. 192, no. 1, 15 July 1994, pp. 107–118.
10. Shi, Norman N., et al. “Keeping Cool: Enhanced Optical Reflection and Radiative Heat Dissipation in Saharan Silver Ants.” Science, vol. 349, no. 6245, 18 June 2015, pp. 298–301., doi:10.1126/science.aab3564.
12. Brandão, C. R. F., et al. “The First Case of Intranidal Phragmosis in Ants. The Ergatoid Queen of Blepharidatta Conops (Formicidae, Myrmicinae) Blocks the Entrance of the Brood Chamber.” Insectes Sociaux, vol. 48, no. 3, Sept. 2001, pp. 251–258., doi:10.1007/pl00001774.
13. Fischer, Georg, et al. “Two New Phragmotic Ant Species from Africa: Morphology and next-Generation Sequencing Solve a Caste Association Problem in the Genus Carebara Westwood.” ZooKeys, vol. 525, 2015, pp. 77–105., doi:10.3897/zookeys.525.6057.
14. Yanoviak, Stephen P., et al. “Evolution and Ecology of Directed Aerial Descent in Arboreal Ants.” Integrative and Comparative Biology, vol. 51, no. 6, 2011, pp. 944–956., doi:10.1093/icb/icr006.
15. Wilson, E. O., and B. Hölldobler. “Caste-Specific Techniques of Defense in the Polymorphic AntPheidole Embolopyx (Hymenoptera: Formicidae).” Insectes Sociaux, vol. 32, no. 1, 1985, pp. 3–22., doi:10.1007/bf02233223.
There appears to be some unspoken rule that tiny versions of things are exponentially more adorable. Take for instance hummingbirds, pygmy marmosets, dwarf elephants, pygmy hippos, or Brookesia micra (the chameleon that fits comfortably on the head of a match). The dwarf cuttlefish (Sepia bandensis), with a mantle length of under three inches, is no exception. Dwarf cuttlefish are at home in the warm waters of the Indo-Pacific including, but not limited to, the Philippines, New Guinea, and Sulawesi. Living mostly in shallow coastal waters, these tiny cephalopods are most active at night, feeding on small crustaceans or fish found over sand and reef. Like almost all members of their group, dwarf cuttlefish are exclusively shallow water inhabitants. This is because of the vestigial cuttlebone that’s contained within the mantle. The cuttlebone is a remnant from the ancient history of cephalopods. Like the ancestral shell, it still retains tiny chambers filled with gas that assist with buoyancy. As a consequence, the cuttlebone will implode if the poor creature swims too deep. Being relatively restricted to shallow water does have its perks, though. Since there is so much light, cuttlefish get to fully utilize their incredible skin to create a wide variety of colors, patterns, and textures to communicate with each other and other animals.
One of the most spectacular displays used by these tiny cuttles is known as the “passing cloud”. It consists of dark bands of color moving down the animal’s mantle via the pulsing of chromatophores in the skin. While this occurs, the cuttlefish keeps the rest of its body’s color and pattern static (unchanging).
Here you can see the passing cloud display in action on this dwarf cuttlefish that I filmed at the Seattle Aquarium. It does it at the beginning and the end of the video.
S. bandensis is not the only cuttlefish species to display these strange, psychedelic waves. Many other cuttlefish do this as well, and also some octopuses. Not surprisingly, the display differs in each species and there are many variations of it. These bands can occur on almost any part of the body and go in different directions depending on the species. The delightfully named Wunderpus photogenicus, an octopus, pulses dark bands over its eyestalks. Perhaps the most interesting thing about pulsing displays like the passing cloud is that no one knows for sure what the purpose is.
Did you notice the pulses on Wunderpus’s eyestalks?
There is a myriad of possibilities of what the displays could be used for. Some cephalopods, such as the broadclub cuttlefish (Sepia latimanus), almost certainly use these displays for hunting. These cuttlefish can sometimes be seen rapidly pulsing the chromatophores on their arms before pouncing on prey. It’s possible that the chromatic pulses mesmerize prey, holding them in place while the cuttlefish positions itself for a deadly strike. The Australian giant cuttlefish (Sepia apama) has been observed using pulse displays in spawning aggression and while drifting in and out of seaweed. These are both notable examples of how pulse displays can be used. Male cuttlefish are well known for displaying aggression to rivals with one half of the body, while showing receptivity to females with the other half. Communication is extremely important among cephalopods and pulse displays seem to serve this purpose well. Camouflage is also a famous attribute of cuttlefish and octopuses alike. Creating rhythmic waves that mimic the rippling light coming from the surface while drifting with the weeds is an excellent way to hide. It definitely puts those chromatophores to good use by helping protect the animal from predators.
This broadclub cuttlefish is using its chromatic pulses to hypnotize a crab. It has its two outer arms positioned in what is called a “branched coral” pose.
The functions of chromatic pulse displays like the passing cloud are not as obvious in other contexts. The extraordinarily cute and adorably named flamboyant cuttlefish (Metasepia pfefferi) will pass waves over its body in as simple a situation as sauntering over an open mudflat. There is a possibility that, along with its bright colors, this could serve as a warning to potential predators. Cephalopod expert Mark Norman has found that the flesh of this little cuttlefish is incredibly toxic. However, this is only anecdotally recorded in the NOVA special Kings of Camouflage and there has been no scientific study published yet that analyzes the toxins. Toxic or not, the flamboyant cuttlefish uses it’s chromatophores to send a message, supporting the potential communication function of pulse displays.
This tiny flamboyant cuttlefish is too cute as it walks around strutting its stuff. Could it be saying “Don’t eat me, I’m toxic!”?
It’s pretty clear that passing clouds and other pulses have specific uses depending upon the environmental or behavioral context of the animal creating them. That is, it’s pretty clear for most of the cuttlefish I’ve mentioned. Alas, the star of this article – the diminutive dwarf cuttlefish – still hides its secrets. Although I am privileged to have seen and video recorded the passing cloud behavior at the Seattle Aquarium many times, I still can’t figure out what these little cuttles are using it for. One minute, an individual may be hovering in place with wave after wave passing over its mantle and the next it will be almost completely black and fighting with a tank mate. From my pathetically inferior human perspective, it seems random. There is the possibility that these captive bred cuttlefish are behaving a little differently than they would in the wild, or that they are influenced by the presence of people. With so many variables, it’s difficult to tell what the dwarf cuttlefish are using it for without a full blown scientific study. Even with the most skilled researchers giving it their all, we will probably never know just what goes on in the minds of these tiny cuttlefish (or any of the other species).
This is a photo I took at the Seattle Aquarium. You can see the tiny suckers on this dwarf cuttlefish’s adorable little arms as it watches me through the glass.
Cephalopod nervous systems are so different from our own that we can only make feeble guesses at how they think and feel about the world. Can you imagine having your brain directly connected to your skin so you could change color and texture in fractions of a second just by thinking? Me neither, but wouldn’t it be cool? That’s an everyday reality for almost all modern cephalopods and something we can’t even begin to relate to. As our understanding of these fascinating creatures improves and science gives us new ways of studying them, we may come closer to discovering what it all means. Until then, let’s just admire their beautiful and complex alien language for what it is – one of the many wonderful mysteries of the natural world.
3. How, Martin J., et al. “Dynamic Skin Patterns in Cephalopods.” Frontiers in Physiology, vol. 8, 2017, Accessed 31 July 2017.
4. Cuthill, Innes C. “Animal Behaviour: Strategic Signalling by Cephalopods.” Current Biology, vol. 17, no. 24, 2007, pp. 1059–1060. ScienceDirect, Accessed 31 July 2017.
5. Hanlon, Roger. “Cephalopod Dynamic Camouflage.” Current Biology, vol. 17, no. 11, 2007, pp. 400–404. ScienceDirect, Accessed 31 July 2017.
6. Osorio, Daniel. “Cephalopod Behavior: Skin Flicks.” Current Biology, vol. 24, no. 15, 2014, pp. 684–685. ScienceDirect, Accessed 31 July 2017.
7. Laan, Andres, et al. “Behavioral Analysis of Cuttlefish Traveling Waves and Its Implications for Neural Control.” Current Biology, vol. 24, no. 15, 2014, pp. 1737–1742. ScienceDirect, Accessed 31 July 2017.
8. Kaufmann, Gisela, director. Kings of Camouflage. NOVA, 2011.
9. Staaf, Danna. “Sheathing the Shell.” Squid Empire: the Rise and Fall of the Cephalopods, ForeEdge, an Imprint of University Press of New England, 2017, p. 112.
What do you think of when someone says “fish”? The image of a salmon or goldfish probably pops into your mind. Or perhaps a colorful tropical reef fish. Odds are, you’re not thinking of a lipstick wearing, pancake shaped animal with frog feet and a long, pointy nose. You’re most likely not thinking of a Toblerone shaped shark with swirly nostrils either. The fact is, evolution doesn’t care what your idea of a fish is. It’s going to go with what’s successful and if it looks like a nightmare clown, so be it. Evolution doesn’t have a goal or a grand plan. What happens will happen and if something works, it persists.
A generalized fish body plan.
So here we are with and ocean of oddities to explore. To start with, let me introduce you to something that looks more or less like a ‘proper’ fish, but didn’t get the memo about how to swim like one. Enter, the razorfish (Aeoliscus strigatus). This fish is elongated and laterally compressed, giving it a razor thin appearance, hence the name. It feeds on tiny zooplankton such as brine shrimp as it hides among corals and seagrasses. Razorfish swim vertically in small schools with their snouts pointed down at all times. It is not known exactly why they do this, but it’s certainly entertaining to watch. With razorfish, it’s always a synchronized swim show. For the razorfish, the warm waters of the western Indo-Pacific are the perfect place to engage in these underwater ballets.
A school of razorfish.
Another weird, warm water inhabitant to be featured here is at home in the lower estuary of Derwent River in Tasmania and several other locations along the southeastern coast of Australia. Unfortunately, it is now critically endangered because of a multitude of factors including a low reproduction rate, habitat destruction, and suspected predation by an introduced sea star. The spotted handfish (Brachyonichthys hirsutus) has a sail like dorsal fin and large, webbed ‘hands’ which it uses to walk along the silty bottom. It belongs to of the order Lophiiformes, along with other strange members like deep sea anglerfishes and frogfish.
Spotted handfish.
Unlike many other fish, which hatch out as larvae that further develops outside the egg, spotted handfish emerge as tiny, fully formed versions of their parents. Rather than floating among the plankton of the open water, these babies stick to the sandy floor and live out the rest of their lives there. The peculiar reproduction habits of this fish are exactly what make it vulnerable to the northern Pacific sea star (Asterias amurensis). Before they become fish, the eggs are attached to stalked sea squirts and other vertical organisms that are extremely appetizing to the star. As a consequence, the eggs are devoured along with the sea star’s target prey. Conservation efforts have since been set in motion to save this unique Australian animal. Along with a captive breeding program and hope of reintroduction, there has been some success with providing manmade alternatives for the handfish to lay their eggs on. Handfish have been using these sticks and as a result fewer eggs are lost to the ravenous sea star. The spotted handfish is a protected species and one of the benefits that comes with that status is efforts to reduce silt and pollution within the Derwent River estuary and restore quality to the fish’s habitat. Even though the spotted handfish is still very much at risk, there is hope for it and therefore hope for other endangered animals.
Our next fish is not nearly as well known as some of the others on this list. It doesn’t live in warm water either and instead spends its life thousands of feet down on continental slopes where the majority of the sun’s light fails to reach. Chaunax pictus, the pink frogmouth, is another member of the anglerfish order. It can only be glimpsed from the window of a submersible or through the eyes of an ROV sent to explore the depths of the ocean. There is virtually no data about its reproductive habits, life cycle, or population trend. One study of C. pictus in the Arabian Sea observed that it only eats small shrimps. With a dearth of information like this, the most interesting thing about this fish is its appearance. Imagine a squat, pink or orange potato with a scowl to rival that of Grumpy Cat and you’re pretty much there.
Pink frogmouth
The pink frogmouth uses its odd fins to crawl around over rocky slopes in search of prey when it’s not sitting motionless, camouflaged as a pissed off lump of cheese. The Chaunax in the video below starts walking at 1:55 if you’d like to see it in action.
Slightly more attractive, though no more at home in shallow water, is the Caribbean roughshark (Oxynotus caribbaeus). One of the few fish on here that isn’t part of the anglerfish order, it is closely related to the more commonly seen prickly dogfish (Oxynotus bruniensis). Almost nothing is known about the natural history of the Caribbean roughshark other than that it inhabits the upper continental slope from the Gulf of Mexico to Venezuela. This shark has sloping sides and a concave belly that give it the appearance of an animal that was forced through a triangular Play-Doh mold. Its sandpapery skin is pale gray to white with dark brown patches, which actually make it quite striking.
Caribbean roughshark.
Swimming Toblerone
The prickly dogfish is less showy, but just as oddly shaped. The scales are raised and conical like studs making it truly deserving of its name. Like the Caribbean roughshark, it is small, only reaching a little over two feet from snout to tail. It has a mouth reminiscent of the cookie cutter shark and feeds on the eggs of other Chondrichthyans (cartilaginous fish). Prickly dogfish can be found in shallower water than roughsharks, but are also seen at great depths.
Prickly dogfish.
Sharks are generally thought of as sleek and streamlined predators designed to kill, but these two species just reinforce the fact that every family has some real weirdos.
Now we get to my personal favorite, and arguably weirdest of this group, the batfish. Despite their name, the batfishes, or Ogcocephalidae, don’t resemble bats in the least. In fact, they might be more suited to the name clownfish if that weren’t already claimed by the well known anemonefish everyone knows and loves from “Finding Nemo”. All batfishes are strange looking, but the red lipped batfish (Ogcocephalus darwini) takes the cake. With flattened body, nose-like face protrusion, and bright red lipstick looking like it was put on while drunk, this fish could be mistaken for a clown at a sorority party gone a little too far.
Hey there, beautiful!
Also called the Galapagos batfish, it does indeed inhabit the warm, shallow waters of the Galapagos islands and nowhere else. It can be found swimming very awkwardly along reef edges over sandy substrate where its prey resides. Much of the time, it doesn’t even bother to swim. Instead, it crawls along the sand like a squashed frog and pauses frequently to lure prey.
Whereas many of its angler relatives use a nifty lure that comes out near the head region, the red-lipped batfish has one just above its lips under that pointy nose, which makes it look exactly like it has a perpetual booger hanging out of its nostril. The lure is bobbed up and down, acting as both a visual and chemical attractant for small invertebrates and a turn off for anyone else.
Of course, it’s not this poor batfish’s fault that it looks so ridiculous. It has evolution to thank for that. For some reason, this strange body plan worked and stuck around as a result. The same goes for the rest of the fish featured in this article and so many more that it would be impossible to cover them all here. This was just a taste of the numerous odd ducks of the fish world and hopefully another motivation to keep exploring the stranger things out there. You never know what we might find next.
References:
1. Clemens, Danny. “The Red-Lipped Batfish Is Always Ready for a Night on the Town.” DSCOVRD. Discovery Channel, 07 July 2015. Web. 21 July 2016.
2. Montoya, P. Zelda, et al. “The Natural History and Husbandry of the Walking Batfishes (Lophiiformes: Ogcocephalidae).”DRUM and CROAKER: 6.
3. Schulz, Katja. “Galápagos Batfish – Ogcocephalus darwini.” Encyclopedia of Life. EOL, 2014. Web. 21 July 2016.
4. Rijnsdorp, A. D., M. Costa, and T. Munroe. “Chaunax pictus (Pink Frogmouth, Redeye).” IUCN. IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, 2015. Web. 21 July 2016.
5. Leandro, L. “Oxynotus caribbaeus (Caribbean Roughshark).” IUCN. IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, 2004. Web. 21 July 2016.
6. McGrouther, Mark. “Prickly Dogfish, Oxynotus bruniensis.” Australian Museum. Australian Museum, 2 Dec. 2013. Web. 21 July 2016.
7. McGrouther, Mark. “Spotted Handfish, Brachyonichthys Hirsutus.” Australian Museum. Australian Museum, 3 Sept. 2015. Web. 21 July 2016.
I have mentioned Pokémon before in my articles, but have only in passing. I now think it is time to take a scientific approach and look at these interesting, fictional organisms through the lens of science. Before we explore the title question, we first need to define what constitutes an animal. Animalia is one of the seven (as per the most recent revision of biological classification) kingdoms of life. The others are Plantae, Fungi, Protozoa, Chromista (diatoms, brown algae, etc.), Archaea, and Bacteria. Animals are multicellular, eukaryotic, heterotrophic organisms that lack cell walls. The cells are grouped into tissues, with each tissue having a specific purpose. Sponges, which are essentially just a clump of cells without any body symmetry, are the exception. As there are no sponge Pokémon to date, we do not have to worry about this. Animals must be able to move voluntarily and independently at some stage in their lives and develop until they reach a fixed body plan.
Protista is used here rather than Protozoa, but they both constitute the same types of organisms.
So, are Pokémon animals? The answer is, it’s hard to tell, but they probably are. There isn’t a way to know whether or not a Pokémon’s cells have cell walls because there is no data about their cellular structure, so we don’t have this to go on. All Pokémon appear to have body symmetry, one exception being Ditto. Ditto throws a wrench into the equation because it has an amorphous form, but can reorganize its body structure to take on the appearance and abilities of any other Pokémon. However, Ditto may be the result of a failed human experiment to clone Mew, the ancestor of all Pokémon. For this reason, we will exclude Ditto from our discussion because it was created through human intervention and did not evolve naturally. We’ll come back to Pokémon “evolution” later.
This Ditto is sad because it doesn’t fit in.
Another stumper is when we start to consider Pokémon diets. Most seem to be heterotrophs, like animals, but some are described feeding exclusively on rock or metal (lithotrophs), while some can photosynthesize (autotrophs). Heterotrophs are organisms that must use organic carbon sources for energy because they cannot fix it themselves like other organisms. Plants can. They convert light energy into more complex organic compounds through photosynthesis. A handful of Pokémon actually are able to sustain themselves on nothing more than electricity. Does this mean that these rock, metal, and electron eating Pokémon species are not animals? Not necessarily. We haven’t learned all there is to know about Animalia yet and it is possible that there are animals yet to be discovered with highly diverse diets that deviate from the standard heterotroph. Many of Pokémon are also capable of enjoying Pokémon food that is made from berries and other organic material, as well as treats such as Pokéblocks (candy for Pokémon) or Poffins (a pastry-like Pokémon treat). Even Pokémon of the Ghost Type, the majority of which appear to be non-corporeal beings, will take Pokémon food if it is offered.
Many real life animals will often consume non-organic substances such as clay to supplement their diets or neutralize toxins in their food. However, this alone is not enough to sustain them. Animals MUST ingest other living things or their products to survive. There is nothing that says that the stranger Pokémon species need to eat something other than iron ore or enough dirt to make an entire mountain.
Aron, the iron eater.
Larvitar, the mountain eater.
Some Pokémon are very plant-like. These are the Grass Type Pokémon. Many of them have abilities like Chlorophyll or Solar Power. Some of these Pokémon species look more like animals that others, though, so how can they be plants? The answer is: they don’t have to be if they participate in mutualism. Mutualism is a form of symbiosis in which both parties benefit from an interaction. It could be that all of the photosynthesizing Pokémon are hosts for special algae or other organisms that can fix carbon so that it is usable. In return, these Pokémon provide their little sun factories with precious nutrients. A few existing animals do this too, so it’s not really that out there to consider it in Pokémon.
Pokémon fill all the requirements of being animals except for their diets. We are still learning much about many strange metabolisms and food preferences in the animal kingdom, so I don’t think we can exclude Pokémon from Animalia just for this, as I mentioned above. We’ll keep exploring their biology.
Getting back to that “evolution” thing. Most, but not all Pokémon, go through “evolution”. Pokémon “evolution” is different from the Darwinian evolution that we know and love. It is predictable and occurs within the same individual. Pokémon evolution is analogous to metamorphosis in the real world. In fact, there are some Pokémon species that perfectly follow metamorphosis in real animals like butterflies, moths, and frogs. Pokémon can also be confirmed to have a Darwinian evolutionary history simply because of the fact that there are “ancestor Pokémon” like Mew that contain the basic genetic blueprints of all future Pokémon, and “fossil Pokémon” such as Omanyte and Anorith. Natural Selection seen in the Pokémon world emphasizes the presence of Darwinian evolution as well. Different regions provide a wide variety of habitats and the Pokémon found in these areas are well adapted to the conditions. This suggests that there is a process of adaptation over generations of Pokémon that resulted in the ones we see today that thrive in their respective environments.
Mew, the ridiculously cute ancestor of all Pokémon.
At this point, I feel that is safe to place Pokémon within Animalia. If they existed, they would make up their own separate phylum. Pokémon are incredibly diverse, and many don’t even look like they are related at all. But, just take a look at our own phylum, Chordata. There is a ridiculous amount of variation within it. Chordata contains animals ranging from simple, filter feeding tunicates, all the way to elephants, whales, birds, snakes, and of course, humans. Pokémon can take the form of gargantuan, dragon like creatures, or something as out there as a living pile of garbage. As briefly mentioned, there are different Types (18 in all) of Pokémon. Pokémon of the same type share similar abilities, weaknesses, and strengths. There is a Primary Type, and a Secondary Type. These Types could be thought of as analogous to classes within biology. Secondary Types would comprise the subclasses. For example, a Pokémon could be of the Fire Type class, but also belong to the Ground Type as its subclass.
The 18 Types of Pokémon.
But why did I choose class rather than some other higher or lower taxonomic ranking? It is because class seems to fit the variation observed within Pokémon types quite nicely and is a good reflection of a class such as Mammalia (our class). Every member of Mammalia is, by definition, a mammal. The blue whale is the most massive animal to have ever lived on this planet, yet falls into the same biological class as the tiny, extinct Batodonoides vanhouteni (a shrew-like mammal) and egg-laying mammals like platypuses and echidnas. Though they differ greatly, all these animals have a handful of defining features that set them apart from any other class. As is their namesake, all mammal species are capable of producing milk through mammary glands. Likewise, a Pokémon belonging to a specific Type will also share similar traits with fellow members of that Type that others don’t possess (unless those others have it as their Secondary Type/subclass). Water Types, for example, all appear to have increased fitness in rain and become weakened and dehydrated by hot, dry weather.
Swampert is a Water/Ground Pokémon. This means that its Primary Type is Water and its Secondary Type is Ground. Because of this, it has the unique traits of both Types. It is also one of my favorite Pokémon!
As with animals, there are many other ways to rank Pokémon taxonomically. We could break them into phyla, orders, families, genera, and individual species. Analysis of all taxonomic rankings like this would probably go on for pages and pages, so we will cut it off at classification by Type and the educated assumption that Pokémon are in fact part of Animalia. Even though these creatures are not real, it is always fun to speculate and dig into the “what ifs”. This curiosity and exploration is the whole basis for science fiction, one of the most popular genres of all time, and it enriches our imaginations and our lives.
References:
1. Myers, Phil. “Animalia (animals).” Animal Diversity Web. Univerisity of Michigan Museum of Zoology, 2001. Web. 04 Dec. 2015.
2. Ruggiero, Michael A., et al. “A higher level classification of all living organisms.” PloS one 10.4 (2015): e0119248.
3. Venn, A. A., J. E. Loram, and A. E. Douglas. “Photosynthetic symbioses in animals.” Journal of Experimental Botany 59.5 (2008): 1069-1080.
4. Trench, R. K. “The cell biology of plant-animal symbiosis.” Annual Review of Plant Physiology 30.1 (1979): 485-531.
5. Barbo, Maria S. The Official Pokémon Handbook. New York: Scholastic, 1999. Print.
6. “Type.” Bulbapedia. Web. 23 Dec. 2015.
7. Bloch, Jonathan I., Kenneth D. Rose, and Philip D. Gingerich. “New Species of Batodonoides (lipotyphla, Geolabididae) from the Early Eocene of Wyoming: Smallest Known Mammal?”. Journal of Mammalogy 79.3 (1998): 804–827.
Love them or hate them, sharks are critically important to the health of our oceans. That’s just an undeniable fact. As apex predators, they have far reaching effects that help regulate the ecosystem down to the level of organisms on which they do not even directly prey. These incredible, ancient fish have been around for many millions of years longer than any dinosaur and have remained relatively unchanged since. Currently, however, more than 60 percent of all shark species on the planet are somewhere on the spectrum of threatened to critically endangered. This is extremely wrong. Animals that have survived for so long and through so much should not be pushed to the edge of extinction by the ridiculous blunders of such a self-absorbed species. Thankfully, there has recently been a worldwide effort to protect sharks and a decline of practices like the slaughtering of sharks for their fins or livers and recreational shark fishing.
Pictured: A cruel, wasteful, and shameful practice.
Here in Puget Sound we are very fortunate to have bluntnose sixgill sharks (Hexanchus griseus). These Sound sharks are now protected after a closure on recreational sixgill fishing was put into action by the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife (WDFW). This ban was in response to public outrage over the capture of several local sixgills from Elliot Bay fishing piers. The WDFW also initiated a research program with the Seattle Aquarium, the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Association (NOAA) Fisheries Service, and other scientific partners such as the University of Washington, Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium, and Vancouver Aquarium in an effort find more about these little known, deep water sharks.
Thanks to efforts like these, we now have more information about sixgills, especially in Puget Sound. Sixgills, as with other deep water animals, have consistent daily patterns. They migrate down to great depths during the day and rise to shallower water at night. This is called diel vertical migration and is largest mass movement of organisms on the planet at one time. However, Puget Sound sixgills are often found in much shallower water than is typical elsewhere – sometimes as shallow as about ten feet during the day. Fortunately, this makes them easier to research. Through capture and tagging studies, it has been determined that most of the sharks in Puget Sound are sub-adults. It is suggested that Puget Sound may serve as a nursery for these animals until they have reached sexual maturity and leave to lead a more pelagic lifestyle. Not only are these sixgills young, but there is a high level of relatedness among juveniles that inhabit the same area. DNA studies found that sharks that were punch biopsied within the same set were significantly more likely to be related to each other than not. These sets consisted mostly of siblings and half siblings. From all the sharks sampled in Puget Sound during this study, analysis resulted in the identification of 33 cohorts. The stranding of a large adult female carrying 71 full-term pups in southern Puget Sound gave researchers an opportunity to look at relatedness within a litter, and confirmed the suspicion that females are polyandrous, that is, mating with more than one male during a breeding season. Six male sharks contributed to the genetics of this litter, but the contribution was unequal because only a few of them contributed the majority of the genotypes found.
This neo-natal pup shows the green eyes and long upper portion of the caudal fin that are characteristic features of sixgill sharks.
Litters can range from 22 to 108 pups and gestation is hypothesized to be no less than 12 months and quite likely closer to 24 months or more. During breeding, male sharks appear to nip at the female’s gill area to get her attention and to entice her to mate as evidenced by white marks observed by biologist divers only during this time of the year. Similar behavior is seen in other shark species. Female sixgills mature at around 14 feet and males at closer to 10. As with many sharks, sixgills seem to grow slowly, but not a lot is known about age at maturity or rate of growth. One shark was found to double in size over its first year of life and then was recaptured later appearing to have grown around a third of an inch per month since. This is just one individual, however, and a much larger sample across different populations would be needed to fully understand sixgill growth rate.
At full size, the biggest sixgills can grow to a little over 15 feet, making this shark the largest fish in Puget Sound and one of the largest living sharks in the world. As their name suggests, they have six gill slits behind the head rather than the usual five found in most sharks. Their snouts are large and rounded, hence bluntnose, and protrude in front of jaws containing very unique teeth. The upper jaw has rows of thin, hook-like teeth that are common in many shark species. However, the lower jaw contains teeth that differ highly from those of other sharks. These teeth from rows of six on either side of the jaw and are deeply serrated like saw blades. Teeth like this are very similar to those seen in Jurassic sharks, suggesting that this species is quite ancient and primitive. Since these animals normally spend their time in very deep water (up to over 8,000 feet down – to put this in perspective, a mile is 5,280 feet) where food is scarce, they take every opportunity to scavenge when they can. Having saw like teeth on the lower jaw and puncturing teeth on the top jaw help them hold and saw through large chunks of flesh such as whale blubber. This allows them to remove more manageable pieces from huge carcasses, which they then swallow whole.
Illustration of upper and lower teeth
Not only are sixgills adaptable, deep sea scavengers, they are also skilled predators. These fish are capable of surprisingly great bursts of speed that contrasts with their sluggish appearance and behavior. Prey can include anything from crabs, mollusks, and teleosts (bony fish) to other cartilaginous fish or even marine mammals. Despite this, there has never been a serious injury or fatality recorded as a result of interaction with a sixgill shark. On the contrary, people often go on dives in Puget Sound specifically to see them. Sixgills do not appear to fear humans and show inquisitive behavior when they encounter one. If a person gets too close for the animal’s comfort, it will calmly swim away. Touching a sixgill may cause it to whip around and nip at the diver in warning, but no injuries usually occur and those that do are minor. Still, sixgill sharks are very big and powerful animals that should always be treated with caution. Even biologists who study sixgill behavior and are very knowledgeable will conduct their research from the safety of a shark cage or a boat and give the sharks their space when diving with them.
For the research that has been done on bluntnose sixgill sharks, we have barely touched the surface when it comes to understanding their lives and the ecological roles they play. What we do know gives us even more incentive to protect and study these amazing creatures. If Puget Sound is in fact a nursery for pups and young adult sharks, then it is a valuable resource for maintaining the genetic diversity of this species. Many shark species suffer from low genetic diversity caused by human actions and the fact that they reproduce slowly. Puget Sound sixgills, even with the relatively high number of related individuals, still shows moderate genetic diversity. Preserving safe and productive areas like Puget Sound is crucial to the survival of shark species worldwide. Sharks are excellent indicators of environmental health and where they do well, other species will undoubtedly thrive as well. Helping sharks like Puget Sound sixgills helps improve our planet’s oceans little by little, and in turn, our lives.
2. Larson, Shawn, et al. “Relatedness and polyandry of sixgill sharks, Hexanchus griseus, in an urban estuary.” Conservation Genetics 12.3 (2011): 679-690.
3. Ebert, David A. “Biological aspects of the sixgill shark, Hexanchus griseus.” Copeia (1986): 131-135.
4. Andrews, Kelly S., et al. “Diel activity patterns of sixgill sharks, Hexanchus griseus: the ups and downs of an apex predator.” Animal Behaviour 78.2 (2009): 525-536.
5. Andrews, K. S., et al. “Acoustic monitoring of sixgill shark movements in Puget Sound: evidence for localized movement.” Canadian Journal of Zoology 85.11 (2007): 1136-1143.
6. Rupp, J. “A natural history of the sixgill shark, Hexanchus griseus.” Proc Puget Sound Res (2001).
The arachnids belonging to the order Ricinulei, or hooded tick spiders, are neither spiders nor ticks. At first glance, these primitive arachnids look a lot like your typical spider. However, if you look closely you will notice that they have segmented abdomens unlike spiders and a complete lack of eyes. It’s like they were trying really hard to cosplay as a spider but missed most of the critical details on their costume. Even so, you’ll probably never have to worry about making this distinction because ricinuleids are rare in comparison to other arthropods. Though locally abundant, only 55 species worldwide have been identified since the order’s discovery in 1838 and specimens are few and far between. A fossil of an extinct Carboniferous species was found in 1837, but the guy who found it thought it kind of looked like a beetle, so it wasn’t identified as a ricinuleid until later. Extant species are found in tropical regions of Central America and western and central Africa where they live in soil and litter.
“I can’t decide what I want to be, so I’ll be everything!”
Very little is known about this animal group even today, but scientists do know that males use their modified third pair of legs for sex. That’s important. Not just because it’s funny, but because looking at ricinuleid junk can be critical to species identification. These legs are used to hold and then transfer seminal fluid into a mounted female’s genital opening. Females store the sperm for later when they are ready to fertilize their eggs. The eggs are laid singly and sometimes carried around by the mother that laid them. Interestingly, baby ricinuleids hatch with only six legs instead of the usual eight that is the signature of arachnids. This and other morphological features is shared with Acari, or mites and ticks, and is believed to be indicative of a close relationship with that order. As the young develop, they grow their final pair of legs and start to look more like proper arachnids.
This is what the female gets stuck up her lady parts…
Why are they called “hooded” tick spiders? The spider and tick parts of the common name are understandable, as they look a bit like spiders and are related to mites and ticks, but what about them is hooded? As it happens, ricinuleids have a cute little hood on their heads called the cucullus that can be raised or lowered at will. When the hood is down, it covers their mouthparts completely. How polite! The purpose and function of this structure is not yet understood, but it is one of their most defining features.
“I’m not going to show you my mouth because that would be rude.”
Ricinuleids may not be as fierce looking as amblypygids or as cool as vinegaroons, but they’ve been around the block and certainly have their own special quirks. So give them a round of applause for just sticking with it and existing all these years. If any order goes unappreciated, it’s the hooded tick spiders.
References:
1. Harvey, Mark S. Catalogue of the smaller arachnid orders of the World: Amblypygi, Uropygi, Schizomida, Palpigradi, Ricinulei and Solifugae. CSIRO publishing, 2003.
2. Harvey, Mark S. “The neglected cousins: what do we know about the smaller arachnid orders?.” Journal of Arachnology 30.2 (2002): 357-372.
3. Adis, Joachim U., et al. “On the abundance and ecology of Ricinulei (Arachnida) from Central Amazonia, Brazil.” Journal of the New York Entomological Society (1989): 133-140.
4. Ewing, H. E. “A synopsis of the American arachnids of the primitive order Ricinulei.” Annals of the Entomological Society of America 22.4 (1929): 583-600.
5. Platnick, Norman I. “A new Cryptocellus (Arachnida: Ricinulei) from Brazil.” Journal of the New York Entomological Society (1988): 363-366.
6. Talarico, G., J. G. Palacios-Vargas, and G. Alberti. “The pedipalp of Pseudocellus pearsei (Ricinulei, Arachnida)–ultrastructure of a multifunctional organ.” Arthropod structure & development 37.6 (2008): 511-521.
The order Uropygi (Thelyphonida) contains animals that are essentially really buff scorpions with whips on their butts instead of stinger tipped tails. They are often called whip scorpions for this reason. Another popular name for uropygids is vinegaroon because they use this whip to spray a mixture of acetic acid (vinegar) and other compounds when threatened or harmed. Their bodies are bulky and well armored, with powerful crushing structures on their pedipalps. These spine-like protrusions are used to capture and hold prey before tearing it apart. Similar to amblypygids, their elongated first pair of walking legs are held out in front to help with navigation. All of these features can make vinegaroons appear larger and scarier than they actually are, at least to us. The largest species in the world, Mastigoproctus giganteus, only reaches a maximum length of 3.3 inches, which is not huge compared to other arachnids.
“Come at me bro!”
Fearsome as they may look, vinegaroons fit with our running theme of tender arachnid sex. When it’s time to make babies, the male gently grasps the female’s antenniform legs and then turns around so that they are both facing the same direction. He deposits a spermatophore on the ground and then grabs it, turns around again, and places it into the female during an abdominal embrace. She can then fertilize her eggs and will lay them within a few months. To do this, she digs a burrow and seals herself inside. Eggs are laid into a sac on the underside of her abdomen, which she holds aloft so as not to drag the eggs on the ground when moving. She does not eat during this time, which is impressive because it can take several months for the eggs to develop and hatch. Newly hatched vinegaroons ride on their mother’s back until their first molt.
Arachnid sex in action!
Most species from this order inhabit tropical regions, but a few, like M. giganteus, live in arid desert environments like many of their true scorpion cousins. M giganteus can be found in the American Southwest and Mexico where it serves an important role as a predator of pests such as cockroaches and crickets. This vinegaroon was the subject in a study by Schmidt et al. (2000) to better understand the composition of the spray. It was often believed that vinegaroon secretions contain formic acid in addition to acetic acid, but this is false. The study analyzed the fluid within the pygidial glands of vinegaroons of different ages and sexes and found that none contained formic acid. The major components of vinegaroon spray are acetic acid, which gives it the strong vinegar smell, octanoic acid, and water. The purpose of this fluid cocktail was also reevaluated in the study. It was only ever used in self-defense, and even then only if that vinegaroon was directly attacked. It appears as though predators are not deterred by being sprayed inside the mouth. However, any contact with sensory tissue such as the eyes, skin, or an arthropod’s feelers can be irritating enough to put off the attacker. In one particular trial, the researchers placed a sulfugid (camel spider) in with a first instar (between first and second molt) vinegaroon and it got a face full of spray. After that, it ran around the cage frantically trying to clean its face with sand and refused to touch another vinegaroon after that. Adult vinegaroons have little to fear, for they are powerful predators themselves and have tough armor to protect them. In the event that they are attacked, though, the spray is an effective way of letting the predator know to back off.
These animals demonstrate that you don’t have to be big, aggressive, or venomous to make it in this world. When faced with danger, you don’t have to fight. Just be really irritating and maybe you’ll be left alone!
References:
1. Schmidt, Justin O., et al. “Chemistry, ontogeny, and role of pygidial gland secretions of the vinegaroon Mastigoproctus giganteus (Arachnida: Uropygi).” Journal of insect physiology 46.4 (2000): 443-450.
2. Rowland, J. Mark, and John AL Cooke. “Systematics of the arachnid order Uropygida (= Thelyphonida).” Journal of Arachnology (1973): 55-71.
3. Harvey, Mark S. Catalogue of the smaller arachnid orders of the World: Amblypygi, Uropygi, Schizomida, Palpigradi, Ricinulei and Solifugae. CSIRO publishing, 2003.
4. Harvey, Mark S. “The neglected cousins: what do we know about the smaller arachnid orders?.” Journal of Arachnology 30.2 (2002): 357-372.
5. Pocock, R. I. “Arachnida.” The Fauna of British India, including Ceylon and Burma. London: Taylor and Francis, 1900. 100-131.
Contrary to popular belief, reindeer cannot fly. I know, I know! I’m destroying Christmas here. The truth, however, is even more interesting. Reindeer may not be able to fly, but they sure know how to get high. More on that later.
The reindeer (Rangifer tarandus), also known as the caribou, is a small member of the deer family found throughout the Arctic and Subarctic regions of the Northern Hemisphere. Reindeer travel in large herds and are well known for their extreme migrations. Some subspecies have been found to move as far as 3,100 miles in a single year. To do this, they obviously need to be able to cover huge amounts of land in a relatively short period of time. Running seems the best way to accomplish this and they do in fact excel at it. These animals can reach speeds of up to 50 miles per hour when they are at a full sprint and can easily swim at 4 mph if it is necessary to cross water.
In the summer when reindeer move to the tundra to feed and give birth, they are plagued by swarms of bloodsucking black flies and mosquitoes. This can sometimes drive them crazy, causing members of the herd to bolt and run wildly to escape the onslaught. The stress from these biting insects is so intense that it can sometimes even inhibit their feeding and ability to give birth normally. In extreme cases black flies can drain enough blood from the animals to fatally weaken them. However, biting insects are not the only predators of reindeer; they also face larger predators. Calves are often taken by golden eagles and wolverines while gray wolves take care of the adults. Wolves are the most important reindeer predator and have an enormous impact on populations throughout their range. They keep numbers in check and rid the herds of sick and weak animals, helping a healthy and genetically diverse population continue.
Not only do predators rely on reindeer, humans have used them for hundreds of years as well for transport, meat, hide, milk, and antlers. Many nomadic people would travel with their semi-domesticated herds along their annual migration routes and tend to them along the way. In Siberia, reindeer are ridden and used to pull sleds. Their hides and meat were also sold as a source of income and many reindeer breeders still use the animals as an important economic commodity.
A reindeer drawn sled in late 19th century Arkhangelsk, Russia
Now we get to the flying. How did that come about? There are lots of theories about how that myth started, and none of them are confirmed. The one that seems most likely and makes the most sense, however, is one related to a small, red and white psychedelic mushroom. Many of us know it from Super Mario Brothers, though there are countless other depictions of it. Reindeer are familiar with it too, as it grows all over the Northern Hemisphere within their range.
The Amanita muscaria, or fly agaric, is toxic and can be fatal in high doses such as 15 caps, but reindeer are still known to eat them occasionally and the results are hysterical. Due to the psychoactive toxins, specifically muscimol, reindeer that consume these mushrooms tend to leap and prance about like drunken idiots for a while until the effects wear off. People also eat A. muscaria for recreation, though it is generally not considered the safest or most desirable psychedelic mushroom to use. It is easy to see how some Siberian reindeer herders could have been out with their herd one day and saw some of their animals eating these mushrooms and tripping. They might have thought Hey! Those guys look like they’re feeling really good. I should try some of that. So they did and then they were just sitting together watching the reindeer flip out and one of them was like “Dude. Hey, dude. Are you seeing this? Those reindeer are totally flying!” and the other replied “Yeah, man! That’s so trippy! We should tie a sled to them and then we can fly too.”
Again, there is no confirmation that these are the circumstances that led to the idea of flying reindeer, but it is true that these animals do eat mushrooms like this and behave in the ways described. It’s not much of a stretch to imagine a herder observing these behaviors, eating a mushroom, and then hallucinating while watching his herd.
Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, and all that stuff.
Please enjoy these hilarious animations of incredibly derpy (maybe ‘shroom high?) reindeer by Mel Roach:
2. Hagemoen, Rolf Iver M., and Eigil Reimers. “Reindeer summer activity pattern in relation to weather and insect harassment.” Journal of Animal Ecology 71.5 (2002): 883-892.
4. “Evenki Reindeer Herding: A History.” Cultural Survival. Culturalsurvival.org, n.d. Web. 25 June 2015. <http%3A%2F%2Fwww.culturalsurvival.org%2Fpublications%2Fcultural-survival-quarterly%2Frussia%2Fevenki-reindeer-herding-history>.
5. Wasson, R. Gordon. Soma: Divine Mushroom of Immortality. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1971. 240. Print.
Most people have heard that octopuses are smart. But how smart are we talking about, and how did they get that way independent of vertebrates? Cephalopoda, which includes octopuses, squid, cuttlefish, and nautiluses, is highly a specialized and advanced class of invertebrates dating back to the late Cambrian. These animals share the same phylum, Mollusca, with slugs and snails, clams, and other “lower” organisms. So what made them so different? All but the nautilus have completely lost their shells, and in cuttlefish, it is reduced to a small internal structure called the cuttlebone – you know, that thing people give parrots and rodents to chew on as a supplement. This has given the group a ridiculous amount of flexibility (both literally and figuratively) to hunt, explore, manipulate, and perform complex behaviors not seen in other mollusks.
We will explore the reasons behind the development of intelligence and the extent to which we understand it in these amazing animals by looking at the giant Pacific octopus (Enteroctopus dofleini). This cephalopod, also called the North Pacific giant octopus, is the largest of its kind in the world that has been discovered so far. Only the female seven-armed octopus (Haliphron atlanticus) and the giant (Architeuthis sp.) and colossal (Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni) squids can contend with it in a battle of size. The largest specimens can reach up to 30 feet from arm tip to arm tip and weigh several hundred pounds. Despite its large size, this octopus is generally considered to be a curious, gentle giant. That is, unless you’re a tasty crab. Unfortunately, a long lived octopus will only get to be 5 years old. If an animal has such a short life, why and how is it so intelligent?
Photo by Drew Collins.
There are several hypotheses as to the rapid evolution of intelligence in cephalopods. One idea is that coleoids, the taxon that includes all shell-less cephalopods, evolved side by side with teleosts, or bony fish, during the Jurassic. Teleost fish during this period, all of which possessed complex vertebrate behavior, were undergoing rapid diversification and occupying countless environmental niches. In response, the coleoids developed intelligence of their own in order to survive in a quickly changing environment filled with new pressures from these vertebrate predators and prey. These cephalopods had to be able to learn, remember, interpret and predict the behaviors and actions of the bony fish to survive. Their positions within the trophic web (food chain) and their life habits created a demanding existence, making higher cognition a necessity.
Giant Pacific octopuses typically use one den for several weeks at a time in the wild. After a foraging outing, they are able to remember where they are in the environment in relationship to their home, and travel back quickly, often jetting over the sea floor. This shows that they have a sense of self as separate from their surroundings and can understand where they are positioned in space. Cognition like this is typical of vertebrates, but cephalopods are the only group of invertebrates that display this advanced form of spatial navigation and problem solving. Not only are they able to return to a den site with ease after hunting, giant Pacific octopuses will not visit the same foraging area consecutively. Behavior such as this demonstrates that these animals have an awareness of how they themselves have impacted the environment in which they live (removed prey from it) in the past, and modify their hunting strategies accordingly. Thus, the octopuses are able to remember where they were and what took place. The navigational abilities of octopuses are still not well understood, but they do use many tactile cues, such as following the contours of the sea floor to relocate a den. Their excellent vision helps them navigate in clear, shallow waters and allows them to use jet propulsion as a movement option.
It is not surprising that the giant Pacific octopus is able to navigate and live successfully in such a complicated environment when you consider that cephalopods have the largest brain to body ratio of any invertebrate. This ratio is comparable to that of mammals and birds. Octopuses are strange in that their arms are radially symmetrical, yet they have bilateral brains. Half of the arms are controlled by one half of the brain and half are controlled by the other. Because of this, octopuses often display “handedness” like humans do. The front pair of tentacles is the pair mainly used for manipulation of objects and the environment, and octopuses can show favoritism towards the left or right tentacle, depending on the individual. Three fifths of the octopus nervous system is concentrated in these arms. The arm and sucker control is highly complex and very precise, allowing possibly the widest range of motion seen in any animal. Such freedom of motion allows these cephalopods to explore their environment in ways that other species would not be capable of. With this exploration comes lots of learning.
Exploration through sight and touch is everything to an octopus. When something novel is presented, such as a new environment, it will proceed to gather as much information as it can through these senses, building a mental map and gaining an understanding of how things work. As familiarity is established, the octopus’ exploratory behavior will decline, and more time will be spent resting and hiding, suggesting that the animal remembers what it learned and has no need for continued exploration. This is seen often in tanks when an octopus is brought in from the wild or a different aquarium. After the territory and sense of safety is established, the octopus has a tendency to display very play-like behavior when given a novel object. One such study, performed at Washington’s very own Seattle Aquarium, presented eight giant Pacific octopuses with a toy (an empty pill bottle with a float in it) and observed their behavior over ten trials. Two of the octopuses took the bottle with a stretched out arm and held it in place before jetting water to make it float to the other side of the tank. They waited until the slow current returned the bottle to them and then repeated the process over 20 times. Other studies with the common octopus (Octopus vulgaris) also described play behavior. When given a choice of clam prey, empty shells, and plastic blocks, the octopuses ignored the shells, ate the clams, and often manipulated the blocks for quite some time. They were seen passing a single block from arm to arm, pulling it around with them when they moved, and bringing it back and forth from the center of their bodies. Octopuses are solitary and do not need to play to learn about their place in a social group, and the play-behavior displayed is not restricted to a specific environment as it would be in a vertebrate (like the safety of a family group). Also unlike vertebrates, play occurs equally throughout the lifespan, though it is infrequent.
Ramsey the octopus from Plymouth’s National Marine Aquarium with a soccer ball.
Wild and captive giant Pacific octopuses are also capable of human recognition, among their many other astounding abilities. Another study done at the Seattle Aquarium collected eight octopuses from Neah Bay in Washington and Seaside, Oregon. The animals were transported to the Seattle Aquarium and placed in separate tanks. Three researchers, dressed identically, interacted with the octopuses over ten days with a two day break in the middle. The interactions were done in a non-predictable order. One tester fed the octopus while the other “mildly irritated” it by gently touching it with a bristly stick for 30 seconds. A range of behaviors from these interactions was catalogued. At the end of the experimentation period, each researcher looked into the octopuses’ tanks and recorded their reactions. The order of researchers was reversed for each octopus and presentations were ten minutes apart. When the irritator appeared, octopuses overwhelmingly reacted with responses consistent with their irritation trials, such as displaying a dark Eyebar or jetting water at the observer. Likewise, the octopuses’ behavior toward feeders reflected that of the feeding trials. This just adds to the already impressive array of cognitive abilities in these amazing animals.
Eyebar on Octopus vulgaris. Photo Credit: Lawrence Tulissi
If I haven’t already convinced you that giant Pacific octopuses and other cephalopods are fascinating creatures, then you have no sense of wonder and should reevaluate your life. To top everything off, here is one more thing to impress you. I could list more, but then I would be writing this article forever!
Octopuses have personalities too! Yet another study conducted at the Seattle Aquarium demonstrated that giant Pacific octopuses vary across three dimensions: Activity, Reactivity, and Avoidance. For comparison, the standard temperament dimensions established for humans are Activity, Emotionality, and Sociability. As mentioned before, octopuses are solitary animals, so it is not realistic to measure variance in the Sociability or Emotionality dimensions. Because of this, the researchers designated Reactivity and Avoidance as the analogues. The results from the study showed that variance in octopus behavior accounted for by these three dimensions was 45%. To give you an idea of how amazing this is, compare that to 43% of the individual variance explained by Sanson et al.’s nine factors for human babies. In addition, much of this variance was across the Approach and Activity dimensions. It is not known why octopuses display so much difference between individuals, but it may again be due to their ever changing and demanding environments and evolutionary competition with teleost fish. There are many adaptive reasons for this variance and octopuses are highly intelligent, learning animals that are shaped by life experiences. It is no wonder that each octopus has its own way of behaving and thinking about the world.
Cephalopods like the giant Pacific octopus can teach us so much about the minds of invertebrate animals and the heights to which intelligence can rise. We really know very little about how other animals perceive the world and solve the problems that they are faced with throughout their lives. Learning about cephalopods opens a door to other mollusks and in turn other invertebrates. Intelligence is something that fascinates us because we consider it to be a key factor of what makes us “different” from other animals. Animals such as the giant Pacific octopus may make us question what really sets us apart as we discover more about them.
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7. Mather, Jennifer A. “To boldly go where no mollusc has gone before: Personality, play, thinking, and consciousness in cephalopods*.” American Malacological Bulletin 24.1 (2008): 51-58.
