D. August Baertlein - Writer & Ruminator - Critter Blog

The Amazing Ambling Tarantula

10/16/2019

In the spirit of Halloween, I offer the Amazing Ambling Tarantula. You might find this fellow a bit creepy, but read to the end for the real freak-fest.

These big, hairy arachnids give many people the shivers, but their bite is less painful than a bee sting. In fact, if you irritate a tarantula her first line of defense will likely be to launch a few itchy "urticating" hairs at you from her abdomen. A human too big to eat isn't worth the waste precious venom. Plus, they're pretty docile unless molested.

In the fall hoards of male tarantulas (which are smaller and lankier than the females) can sometimes be spotted marching out to find mates. The females, meanwhile, are safely tucked into burrows, waiting. I've not been lucky enough to witness this, but I've heard friends describe with awe. DesertUSA.com describes it in detail.

Like black widows, female tarantulas tend to eat their mates post-coitus, which hardly seems fair after all the work the boys have put into finding and wooing those girls. But this still isn't the creepiest part. Keep reading.

I'd never had the opportunity to hold a tarantula until I volunteered at the California Living Museum (CALM). As a docent, I was privileged to share Harriet with visitors. The children were often standoffish initially, but usually recognized Harriet's beauty in the end.

Adults were considerably harder to win over.

Okay. Here's the freaky part. Don't let this innocent-looking, Halloween-colored insect fool you. The Pepsis wasp or tarantula hawk is a devil in disguise. Here's her story:

The already-mated female wasp seeks out a tarantula and paralyzes him with a sting. The wasp then drags the spider to her den. (I've seen the dragging part and was too mortified to remember to take a picture! Perhaps you're feeling fortunate to not have to bear witness to that. Perhaps you're disappointed, in which case you can find a picture here.)

The wasp then lays her eggs in the still living spider, and buries him. Alive! When the eggs hatch the larvae have fresh, still living meat to feed on.

Now you may cringe.

It may also interest you to know that the tarantula hawk is considered to have one of the most painful stings, surpassed only by bullet ants. (Yeah, I never heard of bullet ants either.)

I told you the tarantulas are the good guys. Don't you agree now that you've heard the whole story?

Kindly Gopher (or Bull) Snakes

10/9/2019

Peek-a-boo!

I looked up from my writing, back in my old house in Lake Hughes, and this nosey fellow was peeking in the window checking my spelling, which is notoriously bad. So, I slipped outside for some pictures.

Although the intricate brown and yellow pattern of a gopher snake (also sometimes called a bull snake) can resemble the design on some rattlesnakes, the gopher snake is long, thin and elegant as compared to stockier rattlers. Two more things that really let you know you've got a harmless gopher snake: 1) No rattle. 2) That lovely narrow head.

Gopher snakes, kingsnakes and many others are not only beautiful, if you like that sort of thing, which I do, they also keep rodent populations down around your house. So be nice these good guys!

    As a senior in high school, I volunteered in the reptile room of the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum. It was there that I was given a newly hatched gopher snake along with the training to care for him for the next 22 years.

   It was coming up on winter, and construction workers had accidentally unearthed him from hibernation, or more accurately, brumation. The reptile keeper told me he would die if released, and they had all the gopher snakes they could handle at the zoo.

   So, Mortimer "followed me home." Fortunately, my mother wasn't like most mothers. She took to Mortimer like she had to the various dogs, cats, rabbits, ducks, rooster, horses and every other critter my sister, father and I had brought home. Mortimer became part of the family.

   Years later my son loved him, too. Yeah, the poor kid never had a chance.

Mortimer made many friends over the years, sometimes at preschools and birthday parties, and was always well behaved. One little Swiss girl even kissed him, much to her father's amusement.

We have gopher snakes here in Prescott, too. Unfortunately, this little fellow who was hanging around the last few weeks, didn't make it. I think maybe he should have found a place to hole up for winter as the weather turned chillier.

He reminds me of Mortimer and what might have happened to him if we hadn't taken him in all those years ago. I'm so glad we did.

Gray Foxes Revisited

10/2/2019

I'm revisiting Gray Foxes because I feel so fortunate that they keep revisiting me! (My original Glorious Gray Fox post was back in August)

In early September we started seeing what looked like a mom and two pups about the size of large cats, barely smaller than the "mom." Gray Foxes breed from about February to March and have a 53-day gestation period, according to Vermont Fish and Wildlife, which I recognize is a far hop from Arizona, but this is a beautiful website!

Additionally, the site says the gray fox is "also known as the flying fox or tree fox because unlike most canids the gray fox has semi-retractable claws, which enable it to climb." If you want to see my foxes in trees, check out my August Gray Fox post. It's true. They climb like cats.

As with the Cows last week, foxes quite enjoy my birdbaths. Living in the high desert is thirsty business.

Sometimes you have to wait your turn. There's a pecking order...

...and I'm at the bottom. When I forget to fill the birdbath, I receive little reminder gifts.

I love my foxes just the same. Hope they have brightened someone else's day as well.

Black Cows and a Calico

9/26/2019

Bovine—velvet, black as night
Saunter past in broad daylight,
Slurping water meant for birds,
Leaving big, soft, squishy turds.

The calico, she stares wide-eyed
At that gorgeous velvet hide.
(She's colored brown and muckle dun.
Thinks velvet black would be such fun.)

But now the cows are moving on,
Behemoths browsing on my lawn
Of scrub oak regrowth freshly cut,
That has already run amok.

It's been a busy week, so I went domestic. Luckily for me, the neighborhood cows have been hanging around lately, drawn either by the birdbath or tender new growth from recent brush clearance.

The barf-colored cat, as my husband calls her, sometimes stands spellbound from the safety of her window seat.

The Mighty Mule Deer

9/18/2019

Okay, so this young buck actually looks pretty scrawny. He's trying, though. See that spindly pair of uneven, velvet antlers he's sprouting? Almost as big as the mule-ears! Unfortunately, time's just about up for a Mule Deer to finish growing his rack according to American Expedition. Maybe next year will be better for the little guy.

He's the least shy of a few who have taken an interest in the new growth springing from this year's brush clearance. Yes, that knee-high scrub oak he's nibbling was cut to the ground only a few weeks ago. Ranch maintenance is never done!

We're very grateful for the deer and cows that stop by. And a little amazed! Even the youngest oak growth is prickly and looks awfully unappetizing from a human perspective. I'm sure these browsers would love an orderly vegetable garden. But I'm not quite that grateful.

When water is scarce the birdbath attracts more than birds. The neighbors tell me a stock tank (AKA pond) is even better. I'll put that on my husband's To-Do list.

The Frenetic Hummingbird

9/12/2019

   Here you will find the best hummingbird pictures I've managed to get over the last few weeks, culled from literally hundreds. Some are even not too bad, if I do say so myself.

   It's tough! Even when the light seems perfect, and my 125X camera is set on sports mode. The little buggers are fast! Especially when they're in defense mode, protecting a food source from other hummers.

   Around here, at least now, in late August and early September, I have mostly (if not entirely) what I think are Rufus Hummingbirds. The Audubon map indicates that here in Arizona they are common during migration. I'm guessing this is their fall travel time as it's been very fall-like for the last few days.

Native American Headdress

   I love the fantastic orange-and-black-accented tailfeathers on these guys—like they're wearing Native American headdresses on their butts. If I'm not mistaken, they spread those tailfeathers widest while screeching threats at each other. But maybe it's just part of their quick stops into stationary hovers. After all, they're pretty much always screeching threats at each other.

   Beauty of Birds notes that Rufus and Ruby-Throated are the most common hummingbirds across the U.S., and describes some fascinating things they do, some of which I've been lucky enough to witness.

   For example, back in Lake Hughes hummers indeed drank sap from holes in a tree trunk. (Apparently, some other sapsucker makes those holes, and the hummers later take advantage.) Everyone thought I was just making stuff up! But there it is. On the internet. So, it must be true!

 Are Hummingbird Feeders OK?

I'm always leery of feeding wild animals, worried I might be giving them the wrong thing, making them less healthy, or keeping them from doing what they should. (Like maybe migrating south for the winter.)

So, it's wonderful to know that Audubon approves. Of course, flowers are better if you can keep the garden blooming. In my yard, when they can, hummers enjoy Orange Trumpet Flowers and Mimosa fluffs (photos above), Red Yucca and Salvia, among other things. But with our current drought, they can often use a little extra boost from a feeder.

I try to judge how much they'll drink so that the feeder runs out within three or four days without wastage. And I clean them well before refilling; sugar water can turn to icky slime before you know it, and that can't be good for a bird.

Hummingbird Sugar Water
(Approved by Audubon)

Materials:
• 1/4 cup refined white sugar

[Audubon Editor's note: Please do use refined white sugar. Honey can promote dangerous fungal growth. Organic, natural, and raw sugars contain levels of iron that could be harmful. Plain white table sugar is sucrose, which, when mixed with water, very closely mimics the chemical composition of natural nectar.]

• 1 cup boiling water
• Bowl
• Spoon

Note: There's no need for red dye here. Red coloring is not necessary and the chemicals could prove to be harmful to the birds.

Steps:
1. Mix sugar and boiling water until sugar is dissolved.
2. Cool and fill feeder.
3. Hang up your feeder outside and wait for the hummingbirds to come.

Enjoy!!!!

And if you get a chance, let me know in the comments what you see at your feeder or flowers.

The Nerve-Wracking Rattlesnake

9/4/2019

This large lovely was nosing around a trap we keep where we park the cars, probably catching scent of a recently demised pack rat. (We'd leave the pack rats be if they'd leave car wiring off their menu, but that's another story.)

We happened to be outside one evening in mid July, when this snake sprung the trap and launched into his distinctive and unhappy rattle. The dog scampered away, tail tucked. She knows! The husband went for the snake grabber, and I stood gasping and sputtering as I tend to do when a rattlesnake rears its beautiful head.

Yes, beautiful. Even in my fright, I find snakes to be amazing and graceful creatures. I had a gopher snake (bull snake) as a friend for many years. This place has been a reptile haven for more than a hundred million years before any human showed up, and they have at least as much right to be here as we do. Plus, who knows how many pack rats this guy ate to get so big. He's undoubtedly helping us out.

I figured he was a gonner, though, his head snapped in the trap that way. We might have to put him out of his misery. But he kept rattling robustly, signaling loud and clear that he had no intention of dying.

Okay then.

I pinched his neck-ish region firmly but gently with my LONG snake grabber, while my husband used long-handled pliers to pry open the trap. Once the snake was free of the trap, I placed him into a 32-gallon trash can and bungee-corded it shut. We loaded it in the back of the truck, drove him out into the boonies and set him free.

The next evening, driving past that spot, we saw him lying (very alive!) stretched across the road. We stopped and shooed him off, explaining that this wasn't a safe place to sun. I'm sure he understood! At least we never saw him there again.

Correction: We saw him on that same stretch of road again on Saturday, 9/8/2019. At least it sure looked like the same guy. It makes you wonder just how big their territories really are. I hope he's finding his new home satisfactory.

This little guy startled me on a on an early September walk a couple of days ago. Pardon the low definition photo, but all I had was my cell phone and no desire to get closer. He looked very angry. I think it's the same species we'd accidentally trapped a month and a half before.

You may be wondering what species. Yeah, me too. Rattlesnakes and raptors give me fits when it comes to exact identification, but I'm going with Arizona Black Rattlesnake or Crotalus Cerberus based on photos and DNA analysis listed by The Firefly Forest. (I'm a sucker for DNA analysis.) Also, here's a video of the spring emergence of Arizona Black Rattlesnakes, some of which look a lot like mine.

After hours of searching and finally deciding, I found the Tucson Herpetological Society. They show a great variety for the Arizona Black Rattlesnake, only one of which looks like mine. Given all the confusion out there, I'm betting only the snakes know for sure.

This young fellow (notice the tiny bud of a rattle indicating he's probably been around only long enough to shed his skin once) crossed our path in September of 2017. I believe he is a Rock Rattlesnake (Crotalus Lepidus), based on information from the Tucson Herpetological Society.

Then again, he looks a lot like the juvenile Arizona Black on THS's Arizona Black page.

I give! Just watch where you step. And if anybody has any better guesses, please do let me know.

The Magnificent Horned Lizard

8/28/2019

   I'm a lizard fan in general, but Horned Lizards are my absolute favorite. As a kid growing up in the desert outside Tucson, I loved catching and playing with them, even taking one to preschool for show-and-tell once. It was a hit with all my little desert rat friends, and thankfully it survived to be released the next day.

   As a kid we called them horny toads, but that is no longer acceptable terminology. Times change. Aside from sexual innuendo, they're not toads at all. They're super-special, fat, spiky lizards. Note the thorny Elizabethan collar and devil horns.

   Nowadays I try to keep my hands off the Horned Lizards, let them be free, but oh my fingers itch to hold one whenever I spot it. They're slower than your average lizard, relying on thorny edges to deter most predators. The slowness and the fact that they're so darned cute makes them attractive to preschoolers and old farts alike. Well, at least this one.

   I have a confession. Horned Lizards were the thing that clinched the deal on our cabin in the Coulter Pine and chaparral outside Lake Hughes, California. When two or three of them wandered across our path as we walked the property the day we first saw the place, I turned to my husband and said, "This feels like home." And it was, for 14 wonderful years!

Now, outside Prescott, Horned Lizards are my neighbors again. This one (above left) was barely an inch long, spotted a few days ago. Another baby crossed our path a few days later. (Oh, my itchy fingers!) August and September seem to be baby time around here.

   The story is, if you harass them, they'll spit blood from their eyes, but I've never seen it in all my harassing. The Arizona Sonora Desert Museum confirms, though, that "several species can rupture small capillaries around their eyes and squirt a bloody solution at would-be predators," so it must be true.

   If you're wandering the desert or chaparral be sure to keep your eyes open for these little cuties. They're hard to spot, generally so still and camouflaged. And you sure don't want to step on one!

   Happy hiking!

The Glorious Gray Fox

8/19/2019

It's been a critter-filled summer here on the ranch near Prescott, Arizona, and my husband keeps pushing me to share my pictures with the world. It's a wonderful idea. I love my critters and desperately need to revive this poor blog.

So, today's photos are of beautiful Gray Foxes. At least two come by regularly to get a drink from the bird bath, sniff out bugs and worms, or scamper catlike up and down our trees. It's incredible to watch!

The little fella below was comfortable enough to take a nap under a manzanita bush.

   And What Does the Fox Say? Not any of the things the goofy song proclaims.

   When I first heard a fox call, in the deep dark of our Coulter Pine forest near Lake Hughes, California, I was a bit freaked out. It sounded like something was dying a slow and painful death by dismemberment. But no, that scream is what a fox really says. I've not yet heard it here, though. These foxes are pretty stealthy.

   Has anybody else out there seen or heard a fox lately?

Clouds Pretend to be an Ocean in Arizona

1/18/2019

I think most of us spend a lot of time pretending to be something we're not, but these clouds do such a beautiful job of it. Makes me want to be a cloud.