External gills, functional eyes, tailfin--the larval grotto salamander has all three.
Currently there are 191 named species of salamanders in the USA. This large amphibian grouping is contained in 8 families of which the largest by far is the Plethodontidae with 147 species plus well over a dozen subspecies. With the use of genetics it is probable that an additional 25+ species will soon be added to this family.

The plethodontids vary in size from 2” long dwarfs to what are considered in this family comparative giants of 9”. Among these are species that are entirely aquatic throughout their lives (paedomorphic taxa), others which are just as entirely terrestrial, and many that are in between these two extremes. Most seek seclusion beneath logs and rocks in damp woodlands, some prefer a similar microhabitat along stream edges, and others live beneath rocks and leaf litter submerged in streams, creeks, or rivulets. Terrestrial taxa have well developed, fully functional eyes, some aquatic forms have reduced vision, and some aquatics are blind. And then there’s the grotto salamander, Eurycea (formerly Typhlotriton) spelaea, a most remarkable little beast that may be encountered in the cave systems of Southeastern Kansas , Northeastern Oklahoma, Southern Missouri and Northern Arkansas.

Troglodytic when adult and in its later stages as a larva, after hatching the larvae often follow connecting underground streams from the darkness of caves to the daylight outside. At that point they are pigmented, being a weakly patterned olive brown to tan. They then have functional eyes, 3 pairs of external gills, and a well-developed tailfin. During the daylight hours they, like many aquatic salamanders, hide beneath rocks and stream bottom debris. On cloudy days and at night they are more inclined to depart their lairs, swimming and foraging in the open.

After a larval duration of several years the 3 or 4 inch long larvae follow their home streams back into the darkness and undergo a metamorphosis that is typical in some respects but atypical in others. Simplified, typically the gills and tailfin lessen in size and function until they are fully resorbed and the larvae become capable of existing terrestrially. Atypically the pigment of the now subterranean salamander is gradually lost and rather than becoming lidded and terrestrially functional as do the eyes of other plethodontids, the eyes of the grotto salamander degenerate and the lids fuse, producing at adulthood a pinkish, sightless, terrestrial, troglodyte.

Welcome to the wonderfully complex world of Mother Nature.

Yep! I sure do recognize red pygmys now!
The spring of 1953 was a long time ago, but it was then that Gordy Johnston took me on my first long distance herping trip. In his VW Beetle we traveled from MA to our destination of northeastern NC in just a few hours. I was entranced. Heat, humidity (not that at that time of year the heat and humidity is any stranger to New England), immense live oaks, more pine trees than I had ever seen before, and the possibility (read that probability!) of new herps (back then the words herps and herpetoculture had not yet been coined –right Philippe?).

I’m sure that we found may herps on that trip, but of these one in particular sticks in my mind—a red phase Carolina pygmy rattlesnake, Sistrurus m. miliarius. And the reason I remember it is because when I found it I had no idea what the little snake was.

Even back in those long ago days the woodlands were far from pristine. Logging, especially of pines, was big business. This seemed especially so on the Albemarle Peninsula and the vicinity of Lake Mattamuskeet. Itinerant sawmills were scattered here and there through the woodlands and wherever one of these sprang up clearings were begun, and like Topsy, they grew and grew as the trees were cut and cleaned (debarked and trimmed). Soon sunshine shone where before had been comparative darkness and the trimmings of the trees grew into piles of seclusion for many herps. At some point the sawmill packed up and moved, leaving behind the trimmings and the tin-roofed open shelter that had protected the machinery from the elements.

Gordy and I had happened upon one of these vacated mill locales and we were busily turning the tree trimmings when I turned up this little red snake. As surprised as I was, the little snake coiled and struck at my nearby hand. Hmmmmm.

“Gordy, I’ve got a baby copperhead here.”

Gordy hurried over and carefully edged the little snake into a gallon jar. We both stared. Its dark saddles on the orange-red ground entranced us—and even after staring at it and realizing that copperheads were usually banded, not saddled, when we left with it and a big kingsnake that also confused us (it was a red phase mole king, Lampropeltis calligaster rhombomaculata) it was with the thought that we had found a strange appearing copperhead.

It was not until we had returned home that a more knowledgeable friend looked at the snake and commented about the tailtip button that we realized we had actually found a pygmy rattler, a red one, a phase that we had had no idea existed. Ahhhhhhh—those good old days (no internet, very few books, and youth---learning could be a real challenge!

Males of Lacerta viridis, the European green lizard, are an intense dark green with blue jowls.
Memories sure help keep us going. Initially I was going to blog about the first red Carolina pygmy rattler I had ever seen way back about 1956 or 58. Then I said no. Let’s talk about black rat snakes in the derelict houses along Rte 1 up in VA. Or maybe rainbow snakes along Rte 17 in SC. But then I happened across a photo of a western green lizard in Topeka, KS and got to thinking about Quivira Specialties Company.

Quivira Specialties was a mail order live creature and curio supplier. One of the first, it was owned by Charles E. and Mae D. Burt. I learned about the company after reading their ad in the magazine “Outdoor Life”. I was probably in one of the junior high (now middle school) grades at the time so that make the time period in the 1950s.

Mediterranean gecko. Note the transverse barring on the tail.
I’m not keeping as close of a watch on herpetological happenings as I once did, so when Jake mentioned to me “there’s a new house gecko in eastern Louisiana” I was more than a little surprised.

But when I indulged in a little research I found that this gecko, the small-spotted house gecko, Hemidactylus parvimaculatus, had been first reported from the viicinity of the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans, about 5 years earlier in 2013. So I guess it can’t really be considered new, just newish. Just as a “by-the-way” this gecko is native to Sri Lanka, Reunion, Mauritius and Rodrigues, Comoro Islands, Maldives, Mascarene Islands, and India (Kerala). It has now been introduced in areas as diverse as Australia’s Cocos Islands and Louisiana (Orleans, Jefferson, and St. Tammany parishes).

Trachemys scripta elegans, the red-eared slider is brightly colored when a hatchling, less so as an adult, and may live for more than 50 years.
Let’s hearken back to the 1940s and 1950s. Despite those “old days,” in fact those “old years,” being the formative years for my interest in herpetology and herpetoculture, I’ll be the first to admit that they were among the toughest of times for the little turtles then referred to by the dealers (in those days dealers were as diverse as 5&10 cent stores and every town’s independent pet shop) as “baby green turtles.”

This is a "straight from the wilds of Okeetee" Okeetee corn snake.
The ad stated “This boy is stunning, pics do him no justice! He is a wild caught straight from Okeetee.”

Okeetee? What’s an Okeetee?

It’s not only a “what,” but also, rather, a “where,” and in this instance the ad pertained to the colors and patterns of the corn snakes, Pantherophis g. guttata, found there, in fabled Okeetee.

As to the where, Okeetee is a huge hunt club that is situated in Jasper County, SC.