Don’t Say “Ugh” To THIS Slug – Nudibranchs

   Now it’s time for one of my favorite animals out there. This article has been long overdue. I’m talking about nudibranchs! The colorful, badass, and diverse group of marine slugs. But first, I have some honorable mentions. These may not be part of the Nudibranchia order, but they’re still amazing and deserve a shoutout.

   One group is Cephalaspidea (headshield slugs), which includes such animals as the cannibalistic Navanax and sand dwelling Aglaja. Next are the Saccoglossa (“sap-sucking” sea slugs), that steal the chloroplasts of the algae they eat and use them to become solar powered. New research on this group of slugs has even revealed a species, Elysia marginata, that can self-decapitate and live as an autonomous head without a heart or digestive system as it regenerates its entire body in under a month. It’s hypothesized that the slugs do this primarily to rid themselves of heavy internal parasite loads. Only younger slugs are capable of regeneration like this. Older slugs will usually die after undergoing this extreme form of autotomy (the process of voluntarily shedding a body part, usually in response to a threat). Last but definitely not least, we have the orgy loving, purple ink spewing Aplysiidae (sea hares). This family contains the largest gastropod in the world – the black sea hare (Aplysia vaccaria) – with the most massive specimen weighing just under 31 pounds and stretching over 3 feet long! What an amazing gang of critters we have here!

Internet personality and wildlife educator, Coyote Peterson, holding a black sea hare (from his YouTube thumbnail).

   Now that we’ve met some of their relatives, let’s meet the actual nudibranchs themselves. Nudis, as they are affectionately referred to by many who study and adore them, come in a couple of flavors. We have the aeolids and the dorids. We’ll start with aeolids since they are probably the most recognizable and are famous for their gorgeous, often stunningly colorful, cerata. Cerata (singular, ceras) are extensions of the animal’s back that increase surface area and aid in respiration through gas exchange. Not only this, but these structures also contain branches of the sea slug’s digestive tract. If these two things weren’t enough, the cerata also house another secret.

Cerata on the thick-horned nudibranch (Hermissenda crassicornis).

   Aeolid nudibranchs love to feed on cnidarians, a large group of animals including anemones, hydroids, corals, and jellies, and this is where their super power comes in. Famously, cnidarians sting anything they come into contact with. How do nudis get past this defensive strategy? Among other, more poorly understood modes of protection, they may use armor to keep themselves safe. Chiton, the invertebrate analogue of keratin, is notably quite tough. Some aeolids have intracellular granules of chiton both on the outside and the inside that prevent nematocysts, the packets containing coiled stinging cells, from penetrating their tissues when fired. With this ability the nudis are able to ingest the prey animal’s tentacles safely. The most impressive part about these slugs’ feeding habits is that the tip of each ceras has a structure called a cnidosac. Each cnidosac contains a few, unactivated, nematocysts that have been stolen from their prey. To summarize, aeolid nudibranchs eat their prey, stingers and all, then pass many of those stingers up to the tips of their cerata to use as their own defense. It’s very much insult to injury for the poor cnidarians they feed on. These weaponized meals are called kleptocnidae, which very fittingly means ‘stolen sting’. Some nudibranchs even possess stings strong enough to harm humans. One of these is arguably the most popular sea slug, Glaucus atlanticus (also called the blue sea dragon), probably due to its very Pokémon-like appearance. G. atlanticus is pelagic and feeds on the Portuguese man o’ war and related siphonophores, resulting in an equally potent sting.

Glaucus atlanticus photograph by Peter Woodard.

   The bright colors of many aeolid nudis are usually enough to deter predators, but if that fails, they get a nasty sting, courtesy of their own prey. Even with the warning colorations and kleptocnidae, there is the inevitability that some predators will persist. When this does occur, there are a few final parlor tricks up the slug’s proverbial sleeve. Not all nudibranchs have the ability, but many can just swim away if they’ve had enough. And remember our friend Elysia who can decapitate itself? As it turns out, plenty of aeolid nudibranchs can autotomize too, though not to the same level of drama. Many studies have demonstrated that a firm pinch to a slug’s ceras will result in its detachment, leaving the predator distracted with a squirming, mucus spewing appendage as the owner swims away. As with Elysia and many other animals that can autotomize, nudibranchs can regenerate lost cerata. It usually takes just over 40 days to fully regenerate one – a small price to pay for survival and the chance to reproduce.

An adorably plump “shaggy mouse” nudibranch (Aeolidia loui) on a shell.

   Speaking of reproduction, all nudibranchs are hermaphroditic. This means they have both male and female sex organs. Although they possess the equipment and the potential to fertilize themselves, there is little indication that they actually do so. These slugs prefer to have a partner involved. They find each other through chemicals in the trails of mucus left behind while traveling. A pair of structures on the head, the rhinophores, detect these chemicals in the water. This is akin to how a moth follows pheromones in the air with the help of its feathery antennae. The closest human analogue to this is our sense of smell, though it still differs quite radically. Many species, such as the barnacle eating dorid (Onchidoris bilamellata), often have mass spawning orgies that can cover entire rocks, but generally it is more of a quiet affair. When two slugs find each other and are both ready to mate, they participate in a circling, dance-like courtship before aligning their genitals. The reproductive opening is located on the right side of the head and contains both a penis and a vagina. One species of slug, Goniobranchus reticulatus, is famous for its disposable penis that detaches in the recipient and then regrows within a day. Plenty of others do this too, but G. reticulatus was the first to make headlines. Once mating is complete, both partners tend to go their separate ways. Sperm is stored inside a special sac until the eggs are ready to be fertilized internally. Eggs are laid in a ribbon on or near the nudibranch’s preferred prey and typically hatch within a week or 2 as tiny larvae called veligers.

Barnacle eating dorids during an orgy.

Aeolidia sp. pair with eggs.

A Heath’s dorid (Geitodoris heathi) sitting under its yellow ribbon of eggs.

   The mating behaviors discussed above are shared by both kinds of nudibranchs, but there are plenty of other things unique to the dorids. One of the most obvious of these is that they completely lack the billowing cerata that make aeolids so recognizable. Instead, they blatantly demonstrate where they get their name. Nudibranch is a mashup of Latin and Greek derived words meaning “naked” and “gills”, respectively. Cerata are multifaceted and have no single obvious function that can be visually ascertained at a quick glance and aeolids are clearly shell-less and therefore still naked as far as mollusks go. Dorids, however, display their gills right out in the open and it is very easy to recognize them as such. This tuft of gills, often referred to as “butt fluff”, is situated on top of the animal’s rear and can be drawn into the body when necessary. The gills also happen to surround the slug’s anus which… works for them. You may be wondering how these naked squishies avoid being eaten if they don’t have the fancy cerata defenses of their aeolid brethren. As it turns out, dorids have some nasty tricks of their own. Rather than stealing stingers, these not so garden variety slugs steal poisons and sequester them in their tissues. This makes them toxic. *cue Britney Spears* A few are able to synthesize their own toxins, but most get them from prey. Dorids usually feed on sponges and can be very specialized, often only feeding on a single species. Many are very well camouflaged to their prey due to the necessity of living on or near it. Predators may have a difficult time spotting nudis like this and if they do, they may get a bad tasting surprise. Others choose to loudly advertise their toxicity with bright colors. Plenty of aeolids do this too and it is a fantastic example of aposematic coloration. “Eat me and you’ll regret it!” or “Touch me and you’ll get hurt!” These vibrant warning patterns and colors are exactly what make these animals so visually appealing to us. We see beautiful little dragons while predators see a bad time.

This thick-horned nudibranch looks like it’s glowing! You can even see its tiny eyespots.

   Nudibranchs are varied and complex animals that are continually revealing new secrets to us. If you weren’t a fan of sea slugs before, I hope you are now. It is unfortunate that their land dwelling cousins aren’t nearly as beautiful, but remember that they are still cut from the same cloth. Maybe that will change your perspective a little the next time you encounter one. Perhaps when you hear the word “slug”, your reaction will no longer be one of disgust if it was before.

Here is a link to a group of sea slug photos that show off just how diverse they are. Only one of these, the “leaf sheep” (Costasiella sp.) is not a nudibranch, although it is labeled as such: https://www.scubadiving.com/photos/photo-contest-gallery-nudibranch-central

Please also enjoy this video of slugs from the Philippines. Keep in mind, this is just one small spot, but has a mind boggling array of species. This group of animals is so insanely diverse, it’s hard not to drop your jaw in awe.

References:
1. Mitoh, Sayaka, and Yoichi Yusa. “Extreme Autotomy and Whole-Body Regeneration in Photosynthetic Sea Slugs.” Current Biology, vol. 31, no. 5, 8 Mar. 2021, doi:10.1016/j.cub.2021.01.014.

2. Rudman, Bill W. “Aplysia Vaccaria.” The Sea Slug Forum, Australian Museum, 2006, http://www.seaslugforum.net/showall/aplyvacc.

3. Greenwood, Paul G. “Acquisition and Use of Nematocysts by Cnidarian Predators.” Toxicon, vol. 54, no. 8, 6 Mar. 2009, pp. 1065–1070., doi:10.1016/j.toxicon.2009.02.029.

4. Miller, Jennifer A., and Maria Byrne. “Ceratal Autotomy and Regeneration in the Aeolid Nudibranch Phidiana Crassicornis and the Role of Predators.” Invertebrate Biology, vol. 119, no. 2, 11 May 2005, pp. 167–176., doi:10.1111/j.1744-7410.2000.tb00005.x. Accessed 22 Oct. 2022.

5. Sekizawa, Ayami, et al. “Disposable Penis and Its Replenishment in a Simultaneous Hermaphrodite.” Biology Letters, vol. 9, no. 2, 23 Apr. 2013, pp. 1–4., doi:10.1098/rsbl.2012.1150. Accessed 8 Nov. 2022.

6. Sekizawa, Ayami, et al. “Another Usage of Autotomized Penis.” Journal of Ethology, vol. 39, no. 3, 15 May 2021, pp. 319–328. Springer, doi:10.1007/s10164-021-00706-1. Accessed 8 Nov. 2022.

7. Ottuso, Patrick Thomas. “Close Encounters With the Environment.” MDedge, May 2009, cdn.mdedge.com/files/s3fs-public/Document/September-2017/083050237.pdf. Accessed 5 Nov. 2022.

8. Faulkner, D.John, et al. “Geographical Variation in Defensive Chemicals from Pacific Coast Dorid Nudibranchs and Some Related Marine Molluscs.” Comparative Biochemistry and Physiology Part C: Comparative Pharmacology, vol. 97, no. 2, 19 Apr. 1990, pp. 233–240. Science Direct, Elsevier, doi:10.1016/0742-8413(90)90133-t. Accessed 5 Nov. 2022.

Photo Sources:
1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15I8eIqh9iI
2. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Glaucus_atlanticus_Long_reef.jpg
All other photos  taken by me.

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_f3GpKiaQUA

Ants in Your Pants

   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.

5. el-Showk, Sedeer. “Agriculture in Ants and Humans.” Scitable, Nature Publishing Group, 17 June 2013, http://www.nature.com/scitable/blog/accumulating-glitches/ant_agriculture.

6. Moore, Hannah. “Are All the Ants as Heavy as All the Humans?” BBC News, BBC, 22 Sept. 2014, http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-29281253.

7. Gough, Zoe. “The World’s Most Painful Insect Sting.” BBC Earth, BBC, 13 Mar. 2015, www.bbc.com/earth/story/20150312-the-worlds-most-painful-insect-sting.

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.

11. Alonso, José Ramón. “Flat Heads.” Mapping Ignorance, Dinahosting, 8 Jan. 2016, mappingignorance.org/2016/01/08/flat-heads/.

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.

Photo and Video Links:

1. Guarding the empire’s treasure by Peter Steward

2. Paraponera clavata by Graham Wise

3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbkgNDERlpU

4. Texas Turtle Ant, solider (Formicidae, Cephalotes texanus) by Alejandro Santillana

5. Figure 1

6. https://www.chemistryworld.com/careers/the-man-who-gets-stung-by-insects/2500173.article

Otterly Adorable

Otters! Who doesn’t love ‘em? From the fluffy and adorable sea otter to the giant Amazonian river otter; there’s an otter for every occasion! Most are fairly social, but the Asian small-clawed otter (Aonyx cinerea) beats all the others out when it comes to gregariousness. It is the most social of all the world’s 13 otter species, forming lifelong pair bonds that lead to extended family groups of as many as 15 or even 20 individuals. In addition to being a family oriented otter, it’s also the chattiest; you have to be to communicate with your many relatives. Along with the classic mustelid trait of scent marking, sound is one of the primary ways in which this animal discusses the intricacies of life. Small-clawed otters are known to use a repertoire of at least 12 different kinds of vocalization including chirps, squeals, barks, and shrieks. They’re like a group of excited tweens who won’t shut up about whatever boy band is popular with the kids these days. Unlike tween girls, though, the small-clawed otters’ company is actually enjoyable because they’re so darn cute and fuzzy!

An adorable Asian small-clawed otter by David Ellis on Flickr.

Native to southern and eastern Asia, these little rascals thrive near clean freshwater streams and rivers with lots of vegetation. Occasionally, they can be found in rice paddies or along the coast near saltwater. Although small-clawed otters need a water source, they are happy to spend time on land as well. Their paws are only partially webbed due to this more terrestrial lifestyle and they use them to search for and capture prey both in the water and on land. Just like raccoons, small-clawed otters hold whatever they are eating in their delightful little hands. Sometimes they can be a nuisance in rice paddies because they will pull up rice plants while on the hunt. As mustelids, otters are playful and mischievous by nature after all.

Another fantastic small-clawed otter photo by David Ellis.

Unfortunately, their numbers are currently on the decline because of habitat destruction caused by land development and competition with humans for food resources. The favorite foods of these otters, which include crabs, mussels, and clams, are also harvested by people and can be overexploited. In addition to reduction of food biomass, there is more frequent chemical contamination of these food sources from human activity. Since small-clawed otters are considered to be a vulnerable species, they are protected throughout much of their range. This is a good start, but areas that were once home to these otters have still seen them disappear.

One such case comes from Singapore. Small-clawed otters were historically common there, but are now only visitors from its offshore islands rather than permanent residents. Fortunately, though, Singapore has not remained an otter free zone. Thanks to pollution cleanup efforts in local waterways, smooth-coated otters (Lutrogale perspicillata) have recently made a return. These much larger cousins of the small-clawed otter now number over 60 individuals and can often be seen and photographed by locals and tourists alike… or so it was thought! Recent research indicates that these water weasels are not actually smooth-coated otters. As it turns out, they are a hybrid between smooth-coated and small-clawed otters. This is the first recorded observation of a wild otter hybridization.

A family of Singaporean otters from OtterWatch’s Facebook. Go check them out!

The story behind these fuzzy hybrids is even more interesting. The research team, led by Beatrice Moretti, came up with several reasons why this union occurred and settled on the “sexual selection hypothesis” as the most likely. Years ago when small-clawed and smooth-coated otter populations overlapped in Singapore’s waters, there may have been a dearth of small-clawed males. The smooth-coated otter was more common in this region, so small-clawed females likely would have interacted with them. Initially, these females may have rejected the smooth-coated males while they searched for males of their own species. Upon being unsuccessful, the females might have settled for the smooth-coated males instead. So why were the frisky locals seen today mistaken for smooth-coated otters in the first place? Well, it’s because they look exactly like smooth-coated otters. The initial objective of the study mentioned above was to learn about smooth-coated otter populations around the world, not phylogeny and hybridization. So naturally, the researchers were confused. They thought the samples collected from their smooth-coated otters might have been contaminated by small-clawed otters swimming by for a visit! After rerunning tests and making sure that no mistakes had been made, they realized that what they found was genuine and set out to figure out why and how. This hybridization happened so many generations ago that the offspring of the first few couples who bred ended up back-crossing with smooth-coated otters. The otters that now live in Singapore contain small-clawed DNA, but superficially appear to be smooth-coated otters because of the continued back-crossing with that latter species.

A smooth-coated otter by Marie Hale on Flickr.

Examples like this prove that even when we think we know something, nature always has surprises for us hidden up its sleeves. Perhaps with continued conservation efforts and habitat restoration, small-clawed otters will return to the waters of Singapore to frolic with their not so distant cousins.

References:
1.Hamman, David. “Aonyx Cinerea.” ADW, Animal Diversity Web, 2004, animaldiversity.org/site/accounts/information/Aonyx_cinerea.html.

2.Wright, L., et al. “Aonyx Cinereus” IUCNRedlist, The IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, 2015, http://www.iucnredlist.org/details/44166/0. Wright, L., de Silva, P., Chan, B. & Reza Lubis, I. 2015. Aonyx cinereus. The IUCN Red List of Threatened Species 2015

3.Scheifele, Peter M., et al. “Vocal Classification of Vocalizations of a Pair of Asian Small-Clawed Otters to Determine Stress.” The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America, vol. 138, no. 1, 2015, doi:10.1121/1.4922768.

4.Hong, Jose. “Surprising Branch in Singapore’s Otter Family Tree.” The Straits Times, 14 Jan. 2018, www.straitstimes.com/singapore/surprising-branch-in-otter-family-tree?xtor=CS1-10.

5.Moretti, Beatrice, et al. “Phylogeography of the Smooth-Coated Otter (Lutrogale Perspicillata): Distinct Evolutionary Lineages and Hybridization with the Asian Small-Clawed Otter (Aonyx Cinereus).” Scientific Reports, vol. 7, 27 Jan. 2017, doi:10.1038/srep41611.

Photo Links:
1.https://flic.kr/p/eYHa2j

2.https://flic.kr/p/nXLSM3

3.https://www.facebook.com/OtterWatch/?ref=page_internal

4.https://flic.kr/p/uCvZQV

Curious Cuttles – Dwarf Cuttlefish (and friends)

    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.

References:
1. Mustain, Andrea. “World’s Tiniest Chameleon Discovered.” LiveScience. Purch, 14 Feb. 2012. Web. 12 July 2017

2.“Stumpy-spined Cuttlefishes, Sepia bandensis.” MarineBio.org. MarineBio Conservation Society, n.d. Web. 2 March 2017.

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.

Video Links:
1.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u76P3gCLWn4

2.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baNp8bgOtok

3.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qjloPutUCeo

4.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51jB8YljliM

Unfishy Fish

     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.

8. “Spotted Handfish (Brachyonichthys hirsutus).” Arkive.org. Wildscreen, n.d. Web. 21 July 2016.

9. Capuli, Emily Estelita. “Aeoliscus Strigatus.” FishBase. Ed. Roxanne Rei Valdestamon. Sea Around Us, n.d. Web. 21 July 2016.

Photo and Video Links:

1. http://evolution.berkeley.edu/evolibrary/article/fishtree_02

2. http://les-z-animaux.e-monsite.com/k/poissons-marins-tropicaux/autres-poissons-marins-tropicaux/poissons-lapins-et-poissons-rasoirs/poisson-rasoir-aeoliscus-strigatus.html

3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PN9Rc5DrOzw

4. http://www.arkive.org/spotted-handfish/brachionichthys-hirsutus/

5. http://www.uniprot.org/taxonomy/242967

6. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WC69Iq8oMlo

7. http://shark-references.com/species/view/Oxynotus-caribbaeus

8. http://www.wikiwand.com/en/Oxynotus

9. https://australianmuseum.net.au/prickly-dogfish-oxynotus-bruniensis-ogilby-1893

10. http://www.natgeocreative.com/photography/1231868

11. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjwnHDR7t_I

Are Pokémon Animals?

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.

Photo Links:
1.http://www.tanelorn.us/data/mycology/myc_kingdom.htm

2.http://www.aminoapps.com/page/pokemon/2097774/ditto

3.http://www.serebii.net/card/risingrivals/057.shtml

4.http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Larvitar_%28Pok%C3%A9mon%29

5.http://attackofthefanboy.com/guides/get-mew-pokemon-red-blue-yellow/

6.https://people.rit.edu/~dap4092/230/project1/basics.html

7.http://www.deviantart.com/art/Swampert-118686577

Ancient Treasures of Puget Sound – Bluntnose Sixgill Shark

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.

References:
1. Martin, R. Aidan.  “Swimming with Jurassic Sharks.” ReefQuest Centre for Shark Research (2003). http://www.elasmo-research.org/education/topics/d_jurassic_shark.htm

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).

7. Bauml, J. “Hexanchus griseus.” Animal Diversity Web (2004). Web. 11 Feb. 2016 http://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Hexanchus_griseus/

Photo and Video Links:
1.https://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/2014/07/23/massachusetts-ban-shark-fin-trade/S1eoogIdZ8W9UbqalQguQO/story.html

2.http://shark-references.com/species/view/Hexanchus-griseus

3.http://wdfw.wa.gov/fishing/bottomfish/identification/sharks_skates_ratfish/h_griseus.html

4.http://www.arkive.org/bluntnose-six-gill-shark/hexanchus-griseus/

5.http://cookislands.bishopmuseum.org/showImage.asp?file=MM/MX5/5BB029_Hexa-gris_2FAO_zzMX.JPG&title=Hexanchus+griseus++%28Bluntnose+Sixgill+Shark%29&height=400&width=600

6.http://www.seattleaquarium.org/sixgill-sharks

7.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4cAlgiX59I

What You Didn’t Want to Know About Part III: Sexy Legs – Ricinuleids

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…

If you are so inclined, this paper has an even better picture of the male pedipalp: http://www.scielo.br/pdf/zool/v29n5/v29n5a12

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.

Photo Links:
1.http://museum.wa.gov.au/catalogues-beta/ricinuleids

2.https://www.researchgate.net/publication/5346975_The_pedipalp_of_Pseudocellus_pearsei_Ricinulei_Arachnida_-_ultrastructure_of_a_multifunctional_organ

3.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ricinulei#/media/File:Cryptocellus_goodnighti.jpg

What You Didn’t Want to Know About Part II: Smells Like Vinegar – Uropygids

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.

Photo and Video Links:
1. https://www.flickr.com/photos/slopjop/1307601869/

2. http://bugguide.net/node/view/341893

3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNnKzoQwdAc

What You Didn’t Want to Know About Part I: What the HELL are These Things?! – Amblypygids

We all know (or hopefully we do) that spiders and scorpions are arachnids – arthropods with eight legs belonging to the class Arachnida – but let’s talk about some of the stranger members of this taxonomic group you’ve probably never heard of. Amblypygi, Thelyphonida (the Uropigids), and Ricinulei. What are those?! To be perfectly frank and scientific here, all of these orders are hella weird. Let’s start with Amblypygi.
What happens when you combine a scorpion, a spider, a mantis, and your worst nightmares?

You get this gorgeous fellow! Amblypygid means “blunt butt” because these arachnids have no tails, unlike the one we’ll get to in the next part. They are commonly called whip spiders, tailless whip scorpions, or “that thing that Mad-Eye Moody (actually Barty Crouch Junior disguised with Polyjuice Potion – spoilers!) demonstrated the unforgivable curses on in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire”, all of which are much easier to pronounce than amblypygid. With leg spans easily reaching over a foot in some species, Amblypygi are the world’s largest living arachnids. Despite their fearsome appearance and movie monster like habits of hanging out in dark places and mainly emerging at night, they are completely harmless to humans. The worst you can get from one of these guys is a minor rose thorn prick from their pedipalp spines and a good scare (and this is if you really push their buttons). Personally, I don’t find them scary at all, but I’m sure a lot of people do. You can actually get them as pets if you’re that weird. Thankfully for my family, I’m not that weird (maybe).
Whip spiders inhabit tropical and sub-tropical regions where their flattened bodies make it easy to sit under bark, under rocks, and in all other stereotypical creepy crawly hiding places. Some are even found in caves and like to hang from the walls or ceiling with their footpads, or pulvilli. At night, they will come out to hunt and get it on with other whip spiders. When this happens, some form of courtship ritual occurs which differs across genera. The male whip spider then backs up toward the female and places a spermatophore (a capsule of sperm) on the ground in front of her before turning to face her again. He entices her to step forward over the spermatophore and take the sperm into her genital opening. After this process the sexes separate and the female later lays eggs into an egg sac under her abdomen. The babies that hatch will ride on her back until after the first molt when they are ready to move around on their own. Tough luck if they accidentally fall off before this, though, because they get no help whatsoever to climb back on and will surely die.

Whip spider babies, like most other arachnids, are miniature versions of the adults. These animals have an unusual first pair of legs. They are so ridiculously elongated and multisegmented that they have taken on the role of antennae and are no longer used for walking. The antenniform legs are held out in front of the animal to help it with navigation and prey location. These “whips” are what give this arachnid its common names. Cave dwelling species often possess even longer legs and some lose their pigmentation and have a reduction or loss of eyes. Amblypygids weren’t even described until the first one was found by Linnaeus in 1758. Up until the mid-1800s, very few more species were named and the number of species fluctuated greatly in the 1890s. Today, there are 136 separate species described with the prediction that this number will climb as the different genera are examined further.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about amblypygids is that some species are social and regularly aggregate in small to large groups. Occasionally this will occur in an outhouse, much to the dismay of anyone needing to use it. In 2006, a study was conducted at Cornell University’s Department of Entomology by Linda Raynor and Lisa Anne Taylor on social interactions in two species of amblypygid, Phrynus marginemaculatus and Damon diadema. What they found was actually pretty sweet… for an arachnid. For the first four months of their lives, both species in the study stayed close to their mother and oriented toward her. She would actively seek them out, settle herself in the middle of the group, and proceed to stroke her children gently with her whips for several minutes at a time. The babies would return this gesture. One female P. marginemaculatus had several groups of babies scattered through the enclosure and visited each of them. Young amblygygids would also show this amicable interaction with their siblings until reaching sexual maturity. Siblings approached each other and greeted each other directly by repeated stroking of their whips. The only signs of aggression ever seen during this time were very mild. Sometimes if an individual entered a tight group of other amblypygids, the members of the aggregation would show a slight threat display by opening their pedipalps. This was very brief, however, and soon led to stroking of the new individual. When a threatening disturbance occurred, young amblypygids would rapidly group together around their mother, often running underneath her. When the researchers put their hands into the cage to transfer a female and her offspring to a new one, she ferociously (and effectively) defended them by trying to stab the offending hand with her palp spines. In contrast, a hilariously ineffective attempt to arouse antipredatory behavior in the amblypygids (to test whether safety in numbers may be a reason for aggregation) involved the researchers placing an anole lizard in their cage. Neither species was perturbed by this and contrarily approached the lizard and explored every inch of it with their whips. Even a tiny, yearling P. marginemaculatus walked right up to it, stroked it for about five minutes, and then calmly walked away.

A figure from Raynor and Taylor’s paper depicting an amblypigid’s interaction with an anole lizard

Say what you will about amblypygids, but you have to admit that they’re, at the least, interesting animals. They give us a great example of the wide range of adaptations that arachnids possess and the variety of appearances they can take on, even if that appears to be a purposeful combination of the creepiest invertebrates on earth. Amblypygids, strange as they are, deserve to be loved and appreciated as much as any other animal does. I’m happy if this article brought even one person reading it a little further away from the disgust and fear that may have been felt in response to the first picture.

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. Pocock, R. I. “Arachnida.” The Fauna of British India, including Ceylon and Burma. London: Taylor and Francis, 1900. 100-131.

4. Rayor, Linda S., and Lisa Anne Taylor. “Social behavior in amblypygids, and a reassessment of arachnid social patterns.” Journal of Arachnology 34.2 (2006): 399-421.

Photo and Video Links:
1.https://www.flickr.com/photos/108308648@N03/14988647707/in/album-72157644982132499/

2.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2htMZ3Vmc8w

3.http://michaelready.photoshelter.com/image/I0000Ki2k4OtYvrs

4.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7wKyV7jMJ4

5.http://www.jstor.org.offcampus.lib.washington.edu/stable/4129799?seq=16#page_scan_tab_contents