The blunt-headed treesnake, Imantodes cenchoa, is renowned for its anolivory, but being a pencil thin snake, one might have thought that its carnage would be limited to the smaller members of anole nation. Not so, as two Natural History Notes in the March, 2011 issue of Herpetological Review report. García-Padilla and Luna-Alcántara report a treesnake eating a large A. petersi in the Los Tuxtlas region of Mexico (photo above), and Ray et al. provide the details of a 56 gram I. cenchoa that was found with a 19 gram A. frenatus and a 1.3. gram anole egg in its stomach. Justice was served in the latter case, as the snake died soon after capture, and an autopsy revealed a perforated stomach, attributed to the anole’s claw, presumably during post-ingestion attempts by the anole to pull a Gordon and escape.
Category: Natural History Observations Page 28 of 34
New minor color variants appear every once in a while, but it’s always interesting to find something completely different. This, to the best of my knowledge, is something completely different. I’ve found a few of these guys running around, and most had very similar colors. Considering their size (and presumptive age) I wonder if they were from the same clutch, or if a single breeding pair yielded this Punnett square anomaly.
Both of the males I had time to annoy/photograph (and the one female that was slightly less photogenic) exhibited the usual traits of A. sagrei. From the heavier build and shorter snouts, as well as the bolder attitude than our native carolinensis (I think the dewlap display was more for me than anything else; even when I was three feet away with a rather bulky camera, both males stood their ground), they would definitely fit the profile. But they’re not structurally an exact match to sagrei’s either. I don’t have a great head-on shot, but they’re narrower. Considering the insect population in the area I can’t say it’s from undernourishment. They move and jump more like carolinensis as well. They just don’t seem to be a differently-colored sagrei. Maybe there’s a little A. cristatellus in there.
I’m not the first one here to wonder what hybridization would yield and what cool little recessive traits could come from it, but I haven’t seen nearly enough specimens to suggest it’s a morph that may stick around- whatever it’s source.
John Phillips and Kirsten Nicholson report in Herpetological Review (42:426-427) observations on A. laeviventris and A. cupreus. To wit: “Upon capture, the individuals struggled to escape the grasp of one of the authors (JGP), and then suddenly went limp without further pressure being applied. In this state, both individuals exhibited the same body position: jaw wide open, dewlap extended, hind legs out, forelegs bent in over the venter….but when the grip was loosened, the individuals immediately sprung to life and escaped.”
The authors note that similar behavior has been recorded in several other species. Any one else seen this? Is it a widespread, but under-reported, natural behavior of anoles?
Brian Langerhans, he of mosquitofish fame (but with some anole credentials, such as here and here), writes from Raleigh, NC:
A strange interaction was observed this morning and I’m wondering if you know what’s going on. There are a number of A. carolinensis that live around our house, and today something weird happened. It’s a pretty cool morning, but a big male was on a ledge on our porch. Two Carolina wrens flew over to the anole, the anole sat still while one pecked on it’s body and tail, and then extended it’s dewlap and opened it’s mouth for a while (but was otherwise still) as the other wren pecked around and in it’s mouth. Do you know what might have been happening here? You’d think the birds were harrassing the anole (and maybe it’s too cold for the lizard to fight back), but it didn’t seem like it. There’s no way they could have been cleaning it (like removing mites), right? Any thoughts?
This sad photo comes to us courtesy of arachnologist extraordinaire Sarah Crews, who snapped the unfortunate little lizard (or fortunate spider, depending on your perspective) in Parque del Este in the Dominican Republic. The offending spider is a member of the genus Lactrodectus, the black widows. What a way to go.
Such spider on anole predation is far from unknown. I myself have observed a baby anole dangling in a spider web in a limestone pothole in the Bahamas, and there are a smattering of reports in the literature, including an A. carolinensis taken by a wolf spider, an A. chrysolepis ensnared by a whip spider, and an A. limifrons overpowered by a jumping spider (photo below). Indeed, I vaguely recall a fine example of scientific entrepreneurship, when a spider guy and a lizard guy teamed up to produce two papers from one such observation, publishing in a herp journal a paper with the theme “anole eaten by spider” and an arachnological journal entry with the tag line “spider eats anole.” Now, that’s maximizing research output! Alas, I could not put my finger on the publications. Anyone remember those?
Two weeks ago our building decided to test its emergency power generators. They assured us there should be no problems (never the case) and that electronics plugged into emergency wall sockets shouldn’t have a disruption in power while others might experience small outages that evening.
We assumed our incubator was in the emergency socket and had little concern to think that any disruption to power would cause problems. Needless to say, that was not the case. There was a surge when the power came on and according to the repair tech it fried 2 boards… however when power was restored instead of returning to its preset temp, room temp, or even remaining off, it decided to turn on and drop the temp to freezing (or below) (we are unsure of the exact temp as the display board was one of the 2 that fried). Everything inside was covered in frost and ice including the few remaining eggs I decided to spare from embryo extractions and allow to hatch for breeding next year.
Even Neil Losin’s cellphone photos turn out spectacular!
In a recent post, Rich Glor–he of little faith–claimed that the multi-splendored Sitana ponticeriana outdoes all of Anolis kind by unfurling its spectacular dewlap while standing on its hindlegs. However, Joe Macedonia set the record straight in a comment, pointing out that just such behavior was reported for A. nebulosus by Jenssen. Anyone else seen anything like this?
Even though anoles aren’t the only lizards to have evolved dewlaps, their spectacular diversity of dewlap shapes and sizes certainly makes them leaders in the global arms race for dewlap dominance. Nevertheless, I recently came across some photos of the spectacularly dewlapped-agamid Sitana ponticeriana doing something I don’t think anoles are capable of – displaying while standing on two hind limbs. I’ve seen Australian agamids stand up for extended periods of time to display, dissipate heat, or scan the horizon, but I’ve never seen an anole do this for more than a few seconds while reaching for a new perch. Sure, anoles can do lots of other stuff to get the message across – push-ups, full-ups, elaborate tail-wags, tongue protrusions, nuchal crest extensions, gapping, etc. – but I’m just not sure they’re built to stand. My question to all the anoles lovers out there: has anybody ever seen one of our beloved creatures displaying while standing on its hind-limbs?
PS – Lots of other amazing photos of the dewlapped agamids are on Flickr
Puerto Rican anole photographer extraordinaire, Father Alejandro Sanchez (you must see his webpage here) describes these photos of a female A. cuvieri: “In a karstic forest in north-western Puerto Rico, a female Puerto Rican giant anole (Anolis cuvieri) patrols its territory in search of prey. When doing so, members of this species usually move in a very deliberate way, reminiscent of chameleons to the point of moving their eyes independently as they scan the vegetation for food or danger. Anolis cuvieri is usually very tame, and this individual hardly paid any attention to my movements or the camera’s flash. After I finished shooting, the lizard allowed me to stroke its tail for a few moments before jumping out of reach.” He also noted that “I saw a couple of A. cristatellus make themselves scarce as this female A. cuvieri approched.”