At this rate it could become a habit.
Nothing venomous this time. I’ve mentioned solifuges before — even built a Magic deck* around them — and today we got a visit from what appears to have become my totem arthropod,** locally known as a sun spider. Apparently, alas, this was a victim of a recent round of pest control.
It was fairly well curled up as you see it shown in the first image, and barely moving at all. I kept it contained for a while but it was willing to pose (albeit in pretty poor-looking shape) for the following image.
(Right-click to open the image in a new window; it’s actually about 75% larger than it appears here.)
Those mouthparts are fearsome-looking, to be sure, but this bug is all bite and no bark. Solifuges are very old creatures — a couple hundred million years*** — but they don’t make silk or envenomate. They’re active predators, chasing down creatures such as crickets, and they can run about as fast as a cockroach.
As should be obvious from the setae, these are pretty sensitive and environmentally-reactive creatures; and the placement and size of the eyes on the cephalothorax should tell you this animal is pretty good at seeing its prey. Beyond that, there doesn’t seem to be much actually known about solifuges. Fairly basic things such as their reproductive cycle, for instance, remain a mystery.
I decided after a while to take it outside and let it die in peace. As I was heading toward a nicely-remote and scrubby spot, though — since these arthropods do not have venom, there was no significant danger to humans or animals — I noticed it start to perk up in the little jar that contained it. By the time I was close to a patch of shrubbery it was getting decidedly more active, and when I tipped it into the plant’s thatch it seemed to be just about fully recovered.
That’s when I remembered that pest-control chemicals generally don’t have much of an effect on arachnids.
I guess this little guy happened to hit a particularly damp or fresh patch of insecticide, one that left it stunned for a while … until the sun after which it’s named resurrected it.
All I can say in retrospect is that it’s good it didn’t decide to play Lazarus when it was on my desk and I was busy lensing it. This story might have had a much less happy ending for at least one of us.
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* Which played, as expected, poorly. I’ve altered it a little and will post on the updates and changes later.
** Oh. Goody.
*** Yes, solifuges were once scaring the hell out of dinosaurs.
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by Jonathan Lubin
29 Jun 2007 at 11:13
Umm — I think those hairs are setae, not cilia.
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by Warren
29 Jun 2007 at 12:33
Oops. I think you’re right. Fixed. Thanks!
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by mirror
29 Jun 2007 at 14:31
I enjoyed learning about this cool spider and reading your story of its journey to freedom.
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by Mrs Tilton
29 Jun 2007 at 14:38
Hallo Warren! ‘All bite and no bark’, perhaps; but still I’d hate to be bitten by one of those things. A few species notwithstanding, in the unlikely event you’re bitten by a spider, in most cases you’d never notice. I suspect that wouldn’t be the case with your friend. For all that, I’m glad he’s feeling better…
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by Warren
29 Jun 2007 at 21:20
I’m glad it recovered too, but of course once it was OUTside.
I see these little guys pretty regularly. They’re capable of surprising bursts of speed and have excellent medium-distance vision. They see you coming and start running off, usually — though not always.
Sometimes they run directly toward you.
Yipes.
The long black fangs at the end of the mandibles are impressive, but I think — can’t be sure — that the mouthparts actually extend all the way back to the cleft just below the eyes. If that’s correct it means a solifuge, with its mandibles completely open, would be more or less literally the stuff of a mild nightmare.
And since they basically have to chew their prey to death I assume the bite, though not toxic, would hurt quite a lot.
I have to wonder about the possibility of infection. Wasps, for instance, can carry tetanus, and blood poisoning might be a problem too, depending on whether a solifuge carries bacteria or not.
I’ve been hit by spiders myself, though only a few times, and I’ve never been aware of it when it happened. Later I end up with a small, telltale itchy welt that generally clearly shows two small punctures, though obviously I’ve never taken a bite from anything genuinely large or genuinely dangerous, for which I’m glad.
You know, I didn’t send this page to PZ. I wonder who did.
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by Mrs Tilton
30 Jun 2007 at 06:40
I assume the bite, though not toxic, would hurt quite a lot.
That’s exactly what I’ve heard: no envenomation, but painful as hell (and can draw a significant amount of blood). Thankfully, I cannot verify this claim empirically.
You know, I didn’t send this page to PZ. I wonder who did.
PZ sees all and knows all.
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by emkay
30 Jun 2007 at 17:33
Awwww Warren, that’s just a baby! Down here in the SE corner of Aridzoner we got ‘em the size of lobsters! They’d pick up that pen and beat you with it! Oh the stories I could tell about those guys! Hahahaha!
OK, maybe the size of crayfish. We have them run thru the house frequently at night depending on season and how many seem to be around each year–some years we won’t see more than a couple if any, other years we’re overrun. I’ve noticed a seemingly direct (if unscientific) correlation between the number of crickets in the house and number of sun spiders, I’ve read they are a favorite food. I’ve also read they hunt by feel, pretty much tearing around (very, very fast I might add!) until they run into something, at which point they determine with their pedipalps (is that correct?) if it’s friend, foe or food. They remind me of those wind-up toys that run around and bump into things and then change course.
A comment, I’ve always thought they were sepulgids, but I see you call them solifuges–comment please?
I’ve also heard them called ‘windspiders’. The local Mexicans call them ‘niño de tierra’ (or similar), translated as ‘children of the earth’ (or dirt, ground). I’ve been told they absolutely terrorize the poor Mexicans in their dirt floor houses. Hell, they terrorize my wife! The cats learn quickly not to mess with them, I’m thinking they give a formidable (if non-venomous) nip.
mike
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by Warren
02 Jul 2007 at 12:20
emkay — solifuge seems to be a variant name. Sepulgid appears to be a variant of solpugid, which is another name for the same critter.
I’d be surprised if they hunt by feel as you describe, though the setae are probably quite sensitive to vibration and might tell the arthropod where its prey is. It would not be an effective survival strategy, however, to just run around at random, bumping into things.
I remember the big suckers in SO AZ. We got some pretty decent-sized ones in Tucson as well.
Here’s a nice page just loaded with images of ’em.
And here’s an entire top-level domain dedicated to them. Seems they’ve got an underground fan following!
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by emkay
02 Jul 2007 at 19:00
Warren,
Thanx for the additional information–“eats.…mice and lizards.” Oh my! That’s news to me.
I think my little gray cells may have betrayed me with the ‘sepulgid / solpugid’ name, perhaps the twenty-five years since I first met one and then read about our little friends introduced that error, altho I was pretty sure in my own mind that’s what I read they were called (unless it’s a local spelling variant). The other info I related is equally old, so maybe I’m just operating on false memories, a benefit of increasing age [grin].
Some very interesting items and pictures in your links. I’ll have to pay closer attention to the next one I need to ‘relocate’ and see which variety it appears to be. I have noticed a longer skinnier type and the big fat ones, which are usually larger, but just assumed they represented different sexes or ages rather than varieties.
Speaking of them tearing around the house in search of dinner, we had the largest of the season run thru last night while watching TV. Years ago that would have elicited a wife-on-the-coffee-table-screaching episode straight from a comedy routine, now we just lift our (usually bare) feet and put them on the table and let the thing be. If the visitor insists on running around bothering dogs and cats or climbing walls to where it might pounce on us I’ll catch and release, other than that, our house is more or less wide open and ground level and if they find their way in, they can find their way out.
It’s quite common to have all sorts of critters come and go–snakes, bunnies, packrats, mice, birds, bugs–we live close to nature [grin].
Not to hijack your thread but last summer we had a large tarantula that came in half a dozen times over as many nights (I’m pretty sure it was the same one), he was quite persistent. I think he took a liking to me, as he would follow me around the yard in the early evenings like a puppy after I’d relocate him. I would stoop and talk to him and he seemed to be unafraid or even curious, he would just sort of sit back on his haunches and listen. I’m not quite at the stage where I could let him crawl into my hand or handle him if he seemed so inclined, I’ve always had arachnophobia; but those guys are so big they are more like a small animal than a spider. I had friends that kept them as pets but could never let them crawl on me–creeps me out.
My wife and I have a private comedy routine that’s based on our cats’ habit (or practical joke) of looking with wide-eyed terror at a point just behind or beyond your head while sitting on the couch, as if Death itself is ready to pounce–we imitate the cats to each other as a joke. Well, we were sitting there last year and I happened to glance over and the cat was doing that to my wife, and I saw my friendly tarantula was actually on the back of the couch, ready to step onto her shoulder or climb on her head. She happened to glance at me and the cat, and assumed my look of horror (because I could foretell her reaction) was our ‘joke’–I had to say, ‘now don’t freak out, but I’m not kidding, there is a tarantula right by your shoulder, just get up slowly’. She glanced over and screamed and leaped up, and at the same time the spider was so startled he leaped a foot in the air and fell off the back of the couch and double timed it out of the house. It was very comical, I’m sure the poor ‘speeder’ was more frightened than her.
Simple pleasures for simple minds.
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by Warren
02 Jul 2007 at 21:30
Tarantulas! This isn’t a hijack — it’s a sideline.
I’ve kept a few. They love crickets.
It is not a mutual affection.
I’m sure many first dates with crickets and tarantulas start off well, progress rapidly to heavy petting, then a love-nip, and then suddenly there’s one less cricket in the unemployment line the next morning.
American desert tarantulas are quite docile, actually, and if you’re feeling courageous you can lay your hand flat on the ground and let one crawl over it. It’ll leave in a moment. You aren’t prey and they aren’t interested in biting. Picking one up is trickier; you have to grasp it gently on the cephalothorax between the second and third pairs of legs.
They don’t like it when you do that and will try to get away, usually by paddling at the air.
In any case if you decide to lift a tarantula — not really recommended — you should make sure to keep it close to the ground or a similar surface in case you fumble (or freak!) and drop the spider. Even a fairly short fall can be bad for a tarantula; its abdomen is quite fragile and could burst given a high enough drop. They don’t jump unless they’re genuinely startled.
However they do deliberately “throw” their dorsal abdominal setae when they feel threatened. They comb their back legs over the surface quickly; this releases a cloud of very small hairlike strands that seem to resemble Fiberglas in that they penetrate skin easily and cause an itchy irritation for a while afterward. A characteristic trait of a captive tarantula that’s been overhandled is a “bald spot” on the dorsal abdomen where all the setae have been combed off and flung.
Tarantulas in the home are uncommon unless they’re seeking prey or — in the case of males — a mate. During the mating season the males can get fairly aggressive, but they’re still safe to trap/release under a good-sized bowl. A sexually mature male tarantula will grow a pair of small hook-like protuberances underneath the first “knee” joint of their front legs. These are mating hooks and used to pull the female’s legs clear so insemination can be accomplished.
As for your octodactyl friend, it’s possible it sort of took a shine to you. Smell, possibly — tarantulas have very poor vision — or, like the robot “bug” in the X-Files episode with Mulder, maybe it just liked you. These are pretty old spiders; they’ve been around possibly as long as solifuges, though I don’t recall for sure, and they’re almost complex enough in some ways to develop personalities.
“Solpugid”, BTW, seems a phonetic or spelling variant, so your Leetle Grey Cells are probably still working at Poirot caliber. Don’t start huffing ginkgo just yet.
(And yes, Mrs Tilton, I know we aren’t discussing true tarantulas here.
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by Name the Arachnid, Win a Prize at The Indigestible
09 Jul 2007 at 13:34
[…] I think it’s official now — either solifuges like me, or there’s something substantially wrong with me.* […]
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