House Centipede

Let me start this post by saying that I do not like House Centipedes! Unlike a lot of other bugs, I have no issues about killing ones that I find in my house, rather than releasing them outdoors - luckily, this doesn't happen very often. The House Centipede that I trapped for this post actually came from outside, so when I was done with it, I felt like I should release it back outside.

So like I said, I do not like these. This is despite how extremely beneficial their presence can be for human-built structures. All the entomologists keep trying to be like What's up, Brian? Why you gotta hate on a player? But I'm always just like Whatever! They nasty! And then they're always like Well that's just how they roll. And then we usually forget about all that and go get some fro-yo at the Pinkberry (where I'm all like I'll have the Fruity Pebbles, some brownie bits, ummmm some honey, do those chocolate-covered peanut butter pellets cost extra?).

When I first captured this female Scutigera coleoptrata, I was keeping her in a container with me while I did some chores under my back porch. We exchanged the occasional verbal barb and eyed each other mistrustingly while I went about my business. But within an hour of catching her, I found myself referring to her as Scuttles.

Now I don't want you to think that I've developed a soft spot for Scuttles or her kind, so I've assembled this list of 10 specific reasons that I find House Centipedes distasteful. I considered making it into a poem like Julia Stiles did for Heath Ledger in the '90s cinematic re-imagining of "The Taming of the Shrew." But it didn't flow very well (the poem from the movie, that is - I hope Miss Stiles got a D on that assignment).

10 things I (ostensibly) hate about Scuttles
1. Their fused body segments and 15 pairs (in adults) of long, thin legs that give them great acceleration and impressive linear speed (at the cost of maneuverability) also make them the only group of centipedes that can jump! However, the best I've ever seen would be better described as a hop - that's why I always recommend that House Centipedes finish their degree and have something to fall back on. They can also climb, hang and survive some pretty serious drops.

...the better to see you with, my dear!

2. They have compound eyes that give them impressive vision, compared to other centipedes. Most (all?) other groups of centipedes only have simple eyes that don't see much, or they've lost their eyes altogether and are completely blind (Santa brought them that Red Ryder, despite the warnings of mom, teacher and his boozy doppelganger at the mall). House Centipede eyes raise an interesting question considering that, despite being active hunters, their typical environs have little light, if any, and they mostly hunt by their sense of smell (through their antennae). That question, of course, would be jeepers, creepers - where did they get them peepers? It's been suggested that this group of centipedes may have branched off from other arthropods (many trilobites and crustaceans have very complex and powerful eyes) earlier than other groups and thus, retained their ancestors' peepers.

3. Centipedes' first pair of legs has been modified to form a strong pair of venomous pincers. Taken by itself, this seems like a strange and hard to come-by modification. But considering that the first pair of "legs" in male spiders (pedipalps) has been modified to contain their reproductive systems, they're at least in good company with other arthropods. Many centipedes have big enough pincers to bite people. But in centipedes, the pincers are called forcipules and they technically deliver more of a sting than a bite - but it's a double sting! It's like Jackie Chan in Fearless Hyena on one side, and Jackie Chan in Rumble in the Bronx on the other side - you just got Double-Chan'd! Although, seeing as how centipede bites are so rare, it might actually be more like Jackie's many, many uncredited roles from the early 70s.

4. Lack of the waxy cuticle present in most other terrestrial arthropods ("land bugs" just lacks the air of pretension necessary to effectively communicate esoteric subjects) and inability to close their spiracles (not unlike many morning news anchors' problems with closing their breathin'-holes) leads to difficulty in retaining moisture. This requires them to live in moist or humid areas (such as bathrooms, basements, under logs or, in Scuttles's case, beneath a raingutter splash-pad) to prevent dehydration. House Centipede lungs are visible dorsally, at the posterior of each tergite segment (you probably wouldn't have assumed I knew what I was talking about if I had just said the light-colored whos'a-what's-it's on their backs).

The Seafood Road Show runs every other Thursday...gross!

5. The House Centipede's front-to-back symmetry is a form of automimicry, or mimicking themselves. When they're standing still their automimicry makes it difficult to tell which end is their head and which is their tail. Automimicry is distinct from autosatire, which is when someone describes their reactions to you by reenacting their internal monologue (Oh, that's different then. Because at first I was like, "Oh my gosh, I do that constantly." But then you explained the thing that I'm constantly doing and I was like, "Oh, my bad - that's the thing that I'm constantly doing."). Just a quick FYI: automimicry is usually superior to autosatire as a means of camouflaging one's lack of self-confidence. The sense of unpredictability that automimicry gives observers of these carnivorous push-me/pull-yous is believed to be one of the underlying causes of arachnophobia. I obviously use that term loosely here...I've never heard of chilopodaphobia or scolopendraphobia - but why the hell not!? The unpredictability issue is also why some people are afraid of fluttery (buttery) moths. Also, all the long, spiny appendages (which touches on another underlying issue in arachnophobia) don't help, either. Incidentally, it's no coincidence that people tend to feel more affinity for jumping spiders than other spiders and their kin. Jumping spiders are often very fuzzy, which visually rounds out many of their sharp corners, and their two, very large anterior-medial eyes on their prominent and distinct heads give them a more recognizable (slightly mammalian) face - these impressions are further bolstered by their inquisitive nature and (slightly scary, when you think about it) intelligence. But that's a subject for another post!

6. House Centipedes are viscous predators with a ravenous appetite for other household nasties. Spiders, crickets, ants, roaches, termites, some wasps, and even bedbugs - all these things (many of which eat our houses or eat us) and many more are approved parts of the House Centipede diet. In fact, Weight Watchers gives such low point values for some of these pests that the House Centipede won't even bother to weigh them! On a side note, I ended up not having time to take pictures of Scuttles on the day I captured her - they're all from the following day. So, before setting her container in a dark spot near where I found her, I dropped a feeder bug in with her. Oh my, good lordy, sweet sassy-molassie, and a few other exclamations, let me tell you what: she must have been hungry, because that cricket didn't even land before she hopped on it. Further details of their meeting push the PG-13 rating (or T, for you gamers) that I try to maintain here, so I'll leave those to the photo gallery (lights...camera...Scuttles!). Let me just say that it got a little gruesome.

7. Scutigera coleoptrata is an invasive species in North & South America. They are originally from Mediterranean Europe and are believed to have arrived in Mexico or Central America something to the tune of 150 years ago. While researching, I came across this amusing quote from a 1902 report out of the US Department of Agriculture: ...often darting directly at inmates of the house, particularly women, evidently with a desire to conceal itself beneath their dresses, and thus creating much consternation. (Sorry to hear about the "consternation", ladies. I'm told that coffee and cigarettes can alleviate this.) Although I can't confirm this claim (my Victorian Era scullery maid's uniform having been on mothballs for quite some time), I do find this a little bit surprising because I've never known one to run towards me, rather than the other direction.

Pardon me, miss. But your gonopods are showing.

8. House Centipedes are loners (and not good dancers). The only time they ever seek out the company of other scutigerids is for a brief mating dance - it's not unlike a single do-si-do with brief antenna-to-leg contact and the exchange of meaningful glances (the whole thing is very Downton Abbey). After this, the male leaves his...let's say "business card" instead of spermatophore (PG-13!), on the ground and runs away. Another way to look at this interaction would be as frotteurism...which I suggest you look up from your highly monitored work computer <casting a class-5 absolution of liability spell!>. Unlike most of you single ladies, who probably wouldn't pick up the business card of a guy who danced awkwardly with you for all of 10 seconds, the female House Centipede lays her...let's say "items from her purse" instead of clutch of eggs, on the gentleman's business card. She delicately arranges her cell phone, lip gloss, a dried up tube of mascara from like two years ago, a depleted Metro farecard, and some hard candy that she was never going to eat anyway with her gonopods...single women have gonopods, right?

9. House Centipedes live for several years and go through several moltings, adding more legs each time, before they look like adults with all 15 pairs of legs. It takes about three years for one to reach maturity, and they've been observed to live as long as seven years total. Some predatory creatures look more or less like small adults as soon as they're born (most spiders, for example) and these creatures typically need to be able to get away from their parents quickly so that they aren't seen as a competitive threat or as food. Many other predators, especially ones with longer maturation periods or ones that live in confined spaces among their older relatives (it's not unusual for a House Centipede to live in the same house for its entire life) have a distinct appearance during childhood. This communicates to the grown folks that you're neither a threat, nor a good choice for a meal (think of kittens, puppies, cubs, kits and the grays for cats, dogs, tigers, foxes and Visitors, respectively). Young House Centipedes have big heads, few legs, and an adorable lack of coloration that make the terrifyingly swift adults coo over the plodding young of their species. The too-cute-to-eat-during-youth principle is a common one, but one notable exception exists in humans. When introduced to a baby, human females of child-bearing age are often heard threatening to just eat that baby right up, perhaps even wanting to start with their sweet little toes - ominous nom-ing sounds may then be heard (at that point, it's too late...another victim of 'nuggling).

10. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

My relationship with Scuttles went south once the rich centipede who wanted to date her sister let it slip about what all the pictures were for (I was a bet?! Just a stupid bet!...Oh wait, that was a different movie). Although I think that my hate list technically makes me the Julia Stiles in this scenario, I eventually released Scuttles into my lawn (not really the best place for her, but she'll manage). She needed to go because her dad had finally agreed to send her to Sarah Lawrence College (not really the best place for her, but she'll manage...manage a Hallmark Slightly-irregular Greeting Cards Outlet store with her expensive, private school, liberal arts BA - ba-dum, ching!).

That's all for this one, but don't forget to check out the new photo gallery for more pictures of Scuttles and bugs from previous posts!
Flickr:BugsIRL

I don't want to wait for our lives to be over, I want to know right now what it will be...
 - The 90s, featuring Paula Cole

Welcome, International Viewers!

This is a two-pronged (but bug-less) post. First, I'd like to announce my new photo gallery! All the pics you've come to love at BugsIRL, as well as many, many (many) more are available for your viewing enjoyment at Flickr: BugsIRL's Photostream

So Blogger lets me look at site traffic based on the country it comes from. This is a really neat tool (if you're a map nerd like me), but I'm not sure how reliable it is. Regardless, it's my pleasure to extend a warm welcome to any visitors viewing from outside the US! I hope that you enjoy the site. I also hope that you're not too critical of mistakes in the following greetings, which I've attempted to express in your respective languages.

Как дела, Россия?
How do you do, UK?
Wie gehts, Deutchland?
Apa khabar, Malaysia?
Como estamos, Brasil?
Wingo boing-aloo, Australia?

Ha! I'm sorry Australia - I tease you because I like you. We all know you say weird stuff, but it's OK - it's part of your charm. It looks good on you!

The ordering of these greetings is based on the number of times my blog has been "viewed" from each country. I put quotations around viewed because I have serious questions about why Russians (actual, human Russians rather than web crawling e-bots) would be so enamoured with my lil'-old bug blog. Is this the best website that Putin will let you visit? Maybe they cracked down on meteorological strip teases...Or maybe my razon-sharp wit is just a welcome distraction from Pussy Riot's hooliganism.

If you're visiting this site from outside the US (or from inside the US), please use the comments to tell me about yourself and what brought you to BugsIRL...Maybe I could do a post about why cicadas are like Anna Karenina - I don't know, I'll think of something.

I also want to give special thanks to omniglot.com for the help with a few of these greetings. But especially for this useful Russian phrase:
Моё судно на воздушной подушке полно угрей
Highlight the hidden text below for the English translation...
My hovercraft is full of eels

Stay tuned - another (bug-full) post will be up shortly!

Tiger Swallowtail Caterpillar

I'm not a monster, I was born this way! Well...sort of. During my first few
growth stages I was going through this whole bird dropping mimic thing -
gross! But then I watched like 400 of those It Gets Better YouTube videos.
Now, I've unleashed the beast! Finally free to be me!

A friend sent me this picture last week. She took it while visiting at her parents' house in Blacksburg, VA (Go Hokies!). They weren't sure what this critter was, so they were initially calling it the mini-monster. But after it professed an intense affinity for Lady Gaga's music, they took to calling it their Little Monster.

While this Little Monster may be experimenting with his identity right now, he will eventually grow up to be a fabulous Tiger Swallowtail butterfly. For now, he's displaying some of nature's finest mimicry. Snake-mimicking is one fascinating characteristic of swallowtail caterpillars. If you find it hard to discern a caterpillar from this picture, then you have something in common with many insectivores (congratulations!). This caterpillar's head is the grayish ellipsoid at the lower end (as he's situated in the picture) of this critter. The yellow circles are just yellow circles (the red collar (or smile) is just coloration, too). He hasn't even developed the compound eyes that he'll have as an adult - he just has small clusters of simple eyes on either side of his true head (these true eyes are not visible in the picture). Now Tiger Swallowtails do a pretty neat job of mimicking snakes (maybe a ringneck snake (Diadophis punctatus), specifically?), but other swallowtail species' caterpillars will take the ruse in impressive directions. Some mimic the triangular heads of venomous snakes or have coloration patterns that look like snakeskin.

Adult Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, courtesy of Andy Emcee, via Wikimedia
Commons. This female is using her long proboscis to drink nectar from the
flower. Perhaps fueling up for Carnivale? I used to work with a guy who
wore super matchy, over-coordinated suits like this, but I never saw him
decked out for a trip to Rio like she is! Get her a crazy hat & thong and
she'll be ready for the parade. Come on Tiger Swallowtail, no one likes a
show off.

But this is definitely the caterpillar of a species of Tiger Swallowtail butterfly. Incidentally, the Tiger Swallowtail is considered the official state butterfly of Virginia. So this petite patriot (state-riot?) may have been on my friend's parents' southwest VA front porch as part of a door-to-door effort in support of one of the gubernatorial campaigns. I wonder which side he was working for (nobody say Green Party - not creative enough to be funny!).

It's no surprise that this Tiger Swallowtail caterpillar is such a big Lady Gaga fan. They have quite a bit in common. They're both known for reinventing themselves (can I get a whoot-whoot for pupation!). They both wear garish colors - the yellow adults' style is very last season (and the style of the adults from last season is very season-before-last) and the caterpillars are a very bright green until they're about ready to pupate (whoot-whoot!). Lady Gaga and swallowtail caterpillars are both excellent at mimicry. Gaga's well known mimics include meat (appropriate awards-show attire), Madonna (a much more dangerous pop star), the Thunderdome (I don't recall this outfit including a diminutive Tina Turner, or an even more diminutive Master (sans Blaster)), and bubbles. Ms. G often uses her camouflage to impress or intimidate hordes of pan-sexual urban 20-somethings. I've already written quite a bit about the swallowtail caterpillar's mimicry. But in addition, this caterpillar's chrysalis (like a smooth cocoon without silk) is exquisitely well camouflaged to look like a twig (a Disco Stick?), often with intricate coloration and even lichen-like mottling. Swallowtail caterpillars also have their own signature scent. If they feel threatened, they can rear up on their back legs (6 front legs, 10 prolegs in the back that it will lose during pupation (whoot-whoot!)) and evert their osmeterium (do what?). The osmeterium is a brightly colored and aromatic scent gland. When they "inflate" this organ out from a hidden duct behind their head, it looks like a snake's forked tounge (and really stinks up the place). Due to its appearance, this gland is sometimes referred to as "scent tentacles," but I'm pushing for scentacles (did you say Santa Clause?)! Finally, caterpillars share with Ms. G a strong aversion to wearing pants (I counted out all their legs a few sentences ago...what's your excuse, G?). In fact, the obscenely underclothed caterpillar in the picture above was on its way to the airport (hi-ooooooh! Waiting on Perez to Tweet up #BugsIRL)!

Let's get serious for a moment - this is a serious blog for serious people and I am sick of all this skylarking! The Eastern US hosts several species of Tiger Swallowtail. Differentiation between adults of the different species is not trivial, the indicators are subtle and only observable from close up. I'd say that the best way to differentiate between the species as larvae is to wait for them to pupate (whoot-whoot!), then wait another one to two weeks (or until the following Spring, if you're observing the final generation of the season) for them to emerge as adults. Failing that, we can play the likelihood game - which is often useful, but not nearly as fun as Hungry Hungry Hippos or Candyland. Speaking of Candyland, I'd like to make a confession: I, Brian MacBugsmansonsten, am a Hasbro-certified cheatsman. Yes - I have grifticulated like a no-good splinterhead. While I was elementary school aged, I would often visit my cousins who lived near by. While visiting, it was pretty typical for us to hit a few rounds of Candyland. In nearly every round played, over a number of years, I would always manage to stack the deck of cards so that I would draw Queen Frostine on my first turn - this jump-to way-point was the closest one to the finish line because, as I recall, my cousins' game no longer had the card for Molasses Swamp because one of them was afraid of Gloppy the Molasses Monster. As I said, this ruse went on for several years. But by the end, I think I wanted to get caught.

Anyway, back to the bugs (and seriousness)! Tiger Swallowtails are not migratory like their cousin the Monarch Butterfly (who I hear is also so afraid of Gloppy that their dad had to remove that card from the deck), so that leaves three species that my friend's Little Monster is likely to be. The first possibility is the Canadian Tiger Swallowtail. Although it's range extends south along the Appalachians, I haven't come across a map that shows it quite as far south as Blacksburg. The second possibility is the Appalachian Tiger Swallowtail, which was formerly considered to be a subspecies of the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (door number 3). However, it's my understanding that this species is limited to a single brood that lives only in the mountains of western North Carolina - which is about as far from Blacksburg as I've seen the range of the Canadian Tiger Swallowtail extend. This leaves the third possibility: the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus), whose range cleanly overlaps Blacksburg and the surrounding areas  (who chose this ordering? why couldn't we have just started with the most obvious one?).

So, with another mystery solved, it's time for me to leave you with a parting thought. But first, I want to thank everyone who's sent me bug pics with ID requests. If I haven't gotten to your request yet, know that it's in the works and I will get to it soon. If you have an ID request or just an awesome bug pic that you want to share, please send me an email at WhoDatBug@gmail.com.

Don't slow! Drive it, clean it, lights out, bleed it. Spend the lasto. I got it. In your pocko. I got it.
 - Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta (Just Dance, 2008)

Yellow Sac Spider

So I said at the end of my last post that I would be updating more frequently, and look at me - doing what I said I would. Nice!

If you're one of my very most extra loyal readers who eagerly awaited my bug updates even before I launched the global phenom that is BugsIRL, you may recognize this post. But keep reading - there's new content and, as always, plenty of new action/excitement!


Look at that abdomen on her! She only wears a size -50
Applebottom Jeans, but she wears them well!

Way back in early July, my wife and I were doing some Spring cleaning (in our house, "Spring" cleaning is more of a year-round activity and often involves spreadsheets). While cleaning, we had the back door open for much of the day. At one point, my wife saw a spider waltz (it was more like a tarentella, for all you many, many fans of Rennaissance Itallian folk dance) into the house like it owned the place - as if there's a sign on our house that says: Please come in and tell us about the Good News (do I intend to suggest that this spider is a Jehovah's Witness?). Anyway, my wife immediately asked me to "take care of" this spider. Being the hospitable type, I obliged and offered her a cookie and inquired as to whether she would be joining us for dinner (the spider, not my wife). Typical of the rudeness I've come to expect from Yellow Sac Spiders, her response was noncommittal.

As Yellow Sac Spiders in the US go, we have two species: Cheiracanthium mildei & Cheiracanthium inclusum - both of which are European imports (spiders are excellent hitchhikers).

While I didn't keep her around for prolonged study, the pictures I took, and her behavior, lead me to believe that this is more likely to be C. mildei, which is well known to enter homes. Whereas C. inclusum tends to stay in fields and gardens. Also, C. mildei is typically more ashen colored and often has a dark face, contrasted with C. inclusum, which is typically a lighter yellow and is less likely to have a dark face.

It's not unusual to find traces of these guys in high corners of houses. They'll do this anytime, but especially at the end of an instar (growth phase), they'll find a quiet, out of the way place, make a silky silky sac, and molt in there. When they're done, they leave their webby hammock with all their old exoskeleton in the hard-to-reach spot they chose like a bunch of freeloading jerks (Oh yeah, I'm done in there. Just clean it up whenever you get around to it. Bye-bye!).

Another awesome about Cheiracanthium Yellow Sac Spiders: their bites may have some medical significance...or not. Reports on this vary pretty widely. I've read everything from an itchy red spot to a few days of aches and nausea. Further, I came across one source that claims this to be the world's 10th most venomous spider. However, the most common report seems to be a painful but small swelling at the bite site that takes a while to go away. My personal read of the more severe reports is that a few (most likely) dry bites resulted in some mild infection, which elevated things from yucky to rather unpleasant. In addition, the one singular only report of tissue necrosis struck me as ready for debunking, aside from the reported bite having probably not come from a Yellow Sac Spider in the first place. As if the literature on Cheiracanthium toxicity wasn't all over the map enough, there's also debate about their bites, themselves. While some authors claim that Yellow Sac Spiders won't bite humans at all, even when provoked, others claim that they do bite without provocation and attribute slumber-bites to them.

Spiders have been causing people to freak out and overreact for a long time (see: tarantism & the tarantella). But Yellow Sac Spiders are also somewhat notorious for reasons other than potential (but unlikely) toxicity and have even made the news a few times. In 2011, another closely related species (C. inclusum) was in the news for making its home in 2009 & 2010 Mazda 6 fuel lines, causing loss of fuel pressure. After a few dozen complaints, Mazda recalled these two model years of the 6 to correct the issue. One source I read said that it was eventually discovered that they were entering through an opening near the gas cap and another said that they were entering through the exhaust, but I don't believe it was ever discovered conclusively why this particular species was so attracted to the fuel lines of this particular car, from these particular model years (in particular). Wikipedia simply says that they like the smell of volatiles in gasoline. I was skeptical, so I read the article that the claim cites. The citation is a Reuters article and the particular claim is a quote from someone described as an automotive journalist...That doesn't make the claim incorrect, but I don't think I need to explain the pause before this sentence. If any reader knows of a reliable source that this journalist may have been referencing, please post it in the comments.

Here's another interesting: the family (Miturgidae (older sources have them grouped in Clubionidae)) that these little darlings belong to is sometimes called the Prowling Spiders. That sounds slightly bad ass...or at least bad butt. They are so bad butt that they don't even use webs to catch their food (total Chuck Norris move) - they prowl it out! Now I skipped my hip-hop aerobics class last week to take my lady tot he new DQ Grill & Chill across the street for some soft serve, but I'm pretty sure that the "prowl it out" is a procedure associated with the pop-and-lock methods of whittling my midsection and toning my core.

Kind of like Tickle-Me Elmo...except with
fangs and gonopores (...Look it up! - Ha! Nice
Zoidberg reference.).

My conclusion on the bite stuff is that I wouldn't be too worried about it - although I probably won't be uncurling every webby leaf in my garden. Since I don't want to be liable for anyone getting pinched, I'd advise that if you're going to pick up a Yellow Sac Spider for tummy rubs, like I did in this picture, you should use the last paper towel to do it. Also, your wife should have just replaced the paper towels for you without making such a fuss.

So after some awkward small talk with the uninvited Yellow Sac Spider pictured, I politely asked her to hit that old dusty trail (notice my delicate use of the appropriate requesting-towel... light quilting maximizes request acquiescence).

I mentioned earlier that I didn't keep her around for any prolonged observation. But, in preparation for this post, I did manage to trap what I thought to be a male of this species, out in my garden. But after taking a closer look at the pictures I took of this other spider, I now believe it to be an immature female Cheiracanthium inclusum (the other Yellow Sac Spider species mentioned). So those pictures won't be a part of this post. I'm not sure yet if I'll do a post on that spider some time this winter, or if I'll just put them in an online photo library (once I finally get around to doing that). But I will be sharing them with the world, soon enough.

Everyone would start jockin', tha news would take my picta' - damn, I wish I could be a ninja!
 - The Insane Clown Posse

Hickory Horned Devil

Whoopity-woop-woop ba-doop!
In honor of my first bug ID request (since starting the blog), I'm posting a special, mid-cycle update!

Hey you, with the hand! Let go of my manuscript!

The other day, I got this picture from my sister-in-law. Imagine, finding a perfectly good piece of paper like that on the ground! Also, there's an interesting bug on the paper. That's not her hand in the picture. Her friend's dad was at work and he and some co-workers came across it - the paper, as well as the bug, that is.

This little devil is a caterpillar called the Hickory Horned Devil (heretofore referred to as HHD). Sometimes caterpillars are so unique or recognizable that they get their own name, independent of the moth or butterfly that they pupate into. The HDD is one of these, for obvious reasons. HHD caterpillars are the larval state of the moth known as the Regal Moth (also sometimes called the Royal Walnut Moth). Both of these are among the  largest caterpillars and the largest moths in North America.

After hatching from an egg laid just a few days prior, the tiny, nondescript blackish or sometimes yellowish caterpillar quickly turns a splotchy black and white. They mostly feed at night on leaves of several types of trees (including hickory, oak, and sumac). In a short amount of time, they become the giant caterpillar with the crazy horns and spikes that you see in the picture. The pictured HHD is probably in its 6th and final instar (or growth stage) before it pupates into the Regal Moth. After ravenously feeding in its 4th and 5th growth stages, it changes color from a garish, bright green to the turquoise-green seen in the pic above. It then makes its way to the ground, digs itself a nice little hole, and forms a pupa (looks kind of like a black or 80% cacao dark chocolate-brown babushka, all wrapped up and swaddled). It then goes through the lengthy process of transforming itself from an HHD to a Regal Moth.

Science Photo Library (sciencephoto.com)
provided this pic of a female Regal Moth waiting
for some dudes to show up with margaritas.

The HHD pupa overwinters in the ground and emerges in midsummer as the Regal Moth - one of the largest North American moths. Like another bug I recently wrote about (see post on the Dobsonfly), the adulthood of the Regal Moth is brief and has only one purpose: make more Regal Moths. After emerging from the pupae and drying off, adult Regal Moths typically live for about a week. Like newly minted adults on spring break, the males typically have more fun during their week of freedom than the females do. The males will usually try to mate with as many females as they can during that week, whereas females are stuck with their one clutch of eggs after a single hookup.

There are other interesting things about HHDs and Regal Moths. First, they are closely related to the Giant Silkworm Moths and are traditionally grouped into the same Family (Saturniidae). But more modern sources group Regal Moths into a separate family: the Royal Moths (Citheroniidae). This is largely due to several subtle wing differences, but can be superficially attributed to the lack of large, eye-like wing spots. Luna moths are among the most well known and most recognizable Giant Silkworm Moths in the Eastern US and these big eye spots are one of their defining features. You may remember the Luna Moth from sleeping pill commercials as the somewhat creepy, big, green fairy-like (absinthe connection?) moths that flap around people's bedrooms and even tuck them in (no way that a moth could lift and pull up someone's sheets). Although, the Lunesta commercials mostly misrepresent Luna moths. I'm not sure how, other than pharmacalogically assisted, someone would be able to sleep knowing that a sentient, giant, glowing moth was sitting on the pillow next to them...all night...watching them sleep, until daylight come (tally me banana!).

Other interesting facteroonies about the Regal Moth (Citheronia regalis) have to do with their pre-adulthood, before all the responsibility of mating as much as possible in a week (wasn't that the premise for Porky's 3?!) weighs them down. While swaddled like a newborn in their pupal state, they will typically overwinter underground for quite a few months - September to July is typical. But, a significant minority of the population will actually stay underground for a whole extra year! This is presumably to keep the gene pool mixed up. But I suspect it has a lot to do with all the weight they put on while gorging themselves as caterpillars.

Although HHDs have a pretty showy and dangerous-looking display of spikes and horns, none of them contain any poison and HHDs are actually considered one of the more easily handled large caterpillars. It's all just for show! They're born with their antlers deflated, and it's normal for them to spend 20 or 30 minutes inflating them (with hemolymph, or bug-blood, I believe) while eating the shells of their eggs. But when they're very young, they rely on another form of visual trickery for defense. I mentioned earlier that they quickly turn from blackish or yellowish to black and white splotched. Well, when they curl up into a J-shape during the day, they look surprisingly like bird poop. Since exactly 0 birds like to eat bird poop (contrasted with the many birds that like to eat caterpillars), this is a pretty good defense - a lot like the fake cans of Barbasol or Scotch Guard you can buy at the Container Store to hide your valuables in. But the specifics of this defense beg the question: did natural selection lead to this caterpillar's doo-doo-camo, or was it the HHD's own self-loathing that made its outsides look like it felt on the inside?

Before I finish, I'd like to get all guidance counselor for a minute and have a very special sidebar with the HHD - a little heart-to-heart, if you will (right now I'm turning my chair around and sitting on it backwards so that I seem more at ease and relatable).

Hickory Horned Devil - can I call you Hicky? What's with you these days? You're no devil and everyone knows that those horns are just for show...just to keep people away. I want to know what's going on with that guy in there. Why won't you let anyone in? Sure, you looked like crap when you were younger - but that was only because you made yourself look that way. Now you look all dangerous, but is that just so that no one bothers you about your weight? We're worried about you, Hicky. We all saw how you ate all those hickory and oak leaves all by yourself. I'll tell you what I don't want - I don't want to come back here in a year and find out that you're still hiding underground. Look - I'm not trying to give you a hard time or come down on just you...but I'm also worried about your future. We all are. I mean, what will you do once you grow up and can't stay in your pupal case any longer? I'm worried that you'll come out of the ground and spend your whole adulthood making risky decisions; jumping into bed with everyone you meet and, in the end, have nothing to show for it but a bunch of kids from a bunch of different baby-mamas, who end up living the same downward spiral that you've been on all summer. Thanks for listening, Hicky.

And thank you for reading! In addition to my regular posts, I plan on responding to a number of other identification requests in the coming two weeks. These posts may be shorter and more to the point than you're used to, but I'm sure you'll enjoy them!

That girl bad looking like a bag of money; I go and get it and I let her count it for me.
 - William Leonard Roberts II (AKA, Rick Ro$$)