Outtake

Chapter 6 Addendum – Salamanders

            The Cascades exhibit included species that were brought in from the wild, including nearly all of the insects, reptiles and amphibians, and fish. The Cascades crew and I spent countless hours in the field studying the habits and habitats of these species. We had in our possession a collecting permit from the Oregon Department of Fish & Wildlife, that allowed us to bring back to the zoo a specified number of animals, depending on the species. Our forays often included keepers who specialized insects and fish. This allowed me to concentrate on the herps that I so loved. During this time, which began about six months from the scheduled opening date I became enamored with salamanders. In addition to field studies, I sought out two prominent experts in the academic and research field. Dr. Dick Forbes at Portland State University was especially helpful in advising on my plans for housing salamanders and meeting their husbandry needs. Dr. Bob Storm, the famous herpetologist at Oregon State University graciously spent several hours with me, showing me through his labs, and answering my numerous questions on the biology of the species I sought. His insights were especially helpful to understanding the microhabitats of many species, and collecting techniques.

            I was immersed in the world of salamanders; I began to dream about them.

Salamander Triptych

Rough-skinned Newt

Taricha granulosa

In the newt’s eye

lies danger mixed

with ancient elixir

            just the right spice

            a wee dose of malice

            quite nice

sorcerers apprentices seekers

of the hallucinogenic cauldron

who would lick a toad

steer their tongue clear

of the tetrodotoxic newt’s

pebbly poison skin

if you got it

flaunt it          

slap a newt and see

unken reflex

a German name

            we say aposematic pose

            supposed to expose

            the color of umber underbelly

            revealed in the convexity

            of head and tail arch

newt knows only to stretch

flashing danger

in neon warning

                    *

around the high lake in spring

bait casters grow angry

through cursed breath

reeling in not trout

but newt upon newt

            and the banks are lined

with their stomped bodies

discarded bait hogs 

                *   

cousins in the old world 

efts and ewts

            but the name

            migrated imperfectly

an n from an in “an ewt”

crossed the ocean to become “a newt”

            thus an Olde English ewt

            became a New World newt

 Eschscholtz’s Salamander

Ensatina eschscholtzi

As an erstwhile plethodontist

I would discourse on Eschscholtz’s salamander thusly:Its toes, ever so delicate, when adpressed, overlap

and while the ensatina lacks a colorful dorsal stripe

it abounds in red, orange, brown and tan overall

with delicate blotches of yellow, black and white

dotting the dorsum and tail

which though constricted is not frail

what a tail, so many uses

Use 1 – scenario: ensatina happily absorbing sunlight

while resting on a wee bit of wet moss

along comes a tourist and never

having seen such a sight

pauses to gaze at the happy ensatina

his shadow falling across the scene

freezing the ensatina

motionlessness sometimes works

but the behemoth prods our little hero

who thinks he is being attacked

by, well maybe a racoon

and curls into a characteristic posture

stiff-legged, sway-backed, tail-arched

the giant thinks this is pretty cool

and gets down real close for a good look

ensatina thinks I’ve had it now

and begins to secrete a milky toxin

at the tip of its tail and waves said appendage

at the mesmerized behemoth

who laughs out loud

startling the ensatina so bad 

he flings with an accuracy

borne of the ages

a drop of poison

directly into the eye

of the well-meaning and unsuspecting tourist

who now is the startled one

leaping to his feet and shedding tears rapidly,

by the time he recovers his dignity and eyesight 

our little hero is, yes, long gone

Use 2 – scenario: Springtime

and love is in the air

of the subterranean ensatina lair

at night they emerge

filled with natural urge

they find each other by chance

and begin the intimate dance

unaware of the many theses

on continuation of species

the male noses and rubs her tailstock

enticing her to do the “tail walk”

forelimbs straddling the male’s tail

beneath a moon lovely and pale

she knows what she came for

he responds, dropping a spermatophore

and over the packet he drags her hips

she picks it up with her cloacal lips

and in about 150 days

15 baby ensatinas go their separate ways

Use 3 – scenario: a real racoon this time

intent on salamander lunch

now we repeat the scene described above

except now a real racoon is the one laughing

at our stiff-legged sally

what is that, some weird

salamander kung-fu nonsense?

I’m going to eat you

which gets ensatina’s tail twitching

time for the poison trick

but racoons know that ruse

loving every bite except the tail

which they especially eschew

our dear ensatina has one last gambit

a supreme act of self-sacrifice!

In a daring feat

of caudal legerdemain

and (maybe) a tiny puff of smoke

she sheds her own tail

the writhing member distracts the racoon

allowing the little sally

to crawl, sans tail,

into the nearest hidey hole

it hurts a bit but hey

like 16% of all ensatinas

at any given time

our little one will get to work

regenerating a new tail

not so fancy, sexy, or colorful

but evolutionarily speaking

it seems like a decent trade don’t you think?

Well, you may have some questions:

Q. Who was this guy Eschscholtz?

A. A really great German zoologist.

Q. Really?

A. Yes.

Q. Well if that is so, what was he doing in the Pacific Northwest?

A. Looking for salamanders.

Q. Why?

A. He wanted to name one after himself.

Q. Can I do that?

A. Sure, if you can find one.

Pacific Giant Salamander

Dicamptodon ensatus

The largest terrestrial salamander

found anywhere in the world

lives here, in our forests,

it is rarely seen

showing itself only

on the rainiest of nights

when no one is about

the kind of night when you’d say

I’d hate to be out in that

yet here I am

this very night the perfect night

for a fool herpetologist like myself

waiting for just such a night in early spring

to drive slow woodsy roads alert

for ghostly eyeshine in bright lights

I call it the stealthamander

when road warrioring wears thin

I try to outthink my marbled prey

where would I be right now?

a female would be in a cold frothy stream

in a rocky water-filled cavity

lined with 150 pedicellate eggs

each wrapped in six layers of jelly

and she would be on guard

because these eggs are

my progeny my genetic destiny

I will guard them with my life

I do not comprehend the male

of my species at all

I mean I will remain here

for the entire duration of baby making

which can last two-thirds of an annual cycle

(this water is cold you know)

while they not only exhibit

no parental behavior whatsoever

they act like damn cannibals

and even eat their own

soon to be potential offspring

just last week one of those numb brutes

broke through my elaborate defenses

got several of the eggs near the entrance

but I gave him a good hard bite on the ass

he was so scared he forgot who he was

and swam out of here like a frightened fish

we females should be more like those lizards

that reproduce without males

so marvelously maternal

(here the herpetological reverie

on this cold night

is broken by the thought

of chasing cnemidophorid lizards

in the warm summer daylight

of eastern Washington)

but back to the task at hand

ok I rule out catching a female in her nest cavity

so let’s gear up and try for the big daddy

on goes the rain gear and head lamp

let’s try thinking like a male:

I am the proud male spawn of legends

I roam the misty…

ok cut the crap

what is this guy out here looking for

probably food

the female will fast for 200 days

while he with no responsibility

is probably out looking for a meal

what do they eat besides stone, caddis, and may flies

and all their larval forms

well, the big ones eat lots of those 

also snakes shrews mice salamanders

one even supposedly had feathers in its stomach

I guess they can climb

this is one prehistoric dude salamander

all this talk of food

calls for a little shot of starbuck

and leftover scone

oh hell, let’s pack it in

and as I turn

THERE HE IS

an unearthly phantom

caught in the glow of my headlamp

between me and the truck

staring at me

eyes piercing my very soul

Mein Gott he’s huge

I foresee a furious scramble

to apprehend this night stalker

I take one tentative step

but I am stopped dead

his thoughts in my brain:

back off dude and leave the scone he barks

and the sound reminds me that these guys’ bite is far worse

I hesitate as he holds me in that damnable gaze

transfixed I lower the scone slowly to the ground   

you win   

this time

Notes: Everything in the poem is anatomically, behaviorally, and zoologically accurate (Google toad licking!), with the possible exception of salamander telepathy.  All salamanders are toxic, with poison glands in their skin, often concentrated on the upper surface of the tail. A Rough-skinned newt is covered in pebbly poison glands, but it doesn’t want to be eaten, so it evolved a way to tell the world about its toxicity, flashing its bright orange underbelly colors in the unken reflex when startled. Newts practically swarm some lakes in the breeding season, which coincides with fishing season, and they love a worm on a hook. Plethodontists do not work on teeth, they study salamanders of the Family Plethodontidae, lungless salamanders that breath through their skin, Ensatina is one. Dr. Storm told me about observing an Ensatina flinging poison from its tail. Giant salamanders are indeed cannibalistic, probably why the female produces lots of eggs and guards them. The terrestrial form of the giant is one of a very few salamanders that has an audible voice, uttering a short, sharp, low-pitched bark when offended; and as I discovered one rainy night in the Cascades mountain range, they bite…hard.