Ask anyone to name the five animals classified as amphibians and you are sure to be told:  FROGS, followed by… TOADS! Or vice versa.

Another moment of thought will probably deliver… SALAMANDERS (but of course—who doesn’t love a slime-covered sallie???)

Push even further and maybe, just maybe, your subject will offer up a questionable… NEWTS? Yes. Very good! But there’s one more.

At this point you are likely to get a blank stare. Hmmmm... what IS the fifth amphibian?

The answer: CAECILIANS.

                                (Category:Caeciliidae Photographer: User:Dawson The head end is in the water. From english Wikipedia.)

I learned about caecilians some years back, but only recently got a real glimpse at them. The zoo acquired two aquatic caecilians a few weeks ago, and I had the good fortune of working as a keeper for a couple days while they were in quarantine. I have to admit, they were pretty cool in person!

These unique animals appear to be a cross between earthworms and snakes, but are directly related to neither. Instead they are their own special brand of amphibian living in tropical regions of Central and S. America, Africa and South-East Asia.

Like all “phibs”, caecilians metamorphosize from gilled to air-breathing forms, they have smooth skin that secretes toxins to deter predators, and most move comfortably between land and water.

But caecilians differ from frogs, toads, salamanders and newts in one very obvious way…

They are limbless.

Other amphibians sport four legs for walking on land. Not caecilians. They spend most of their time underground, residing in a network of tunnels where legs are not a helpful adaptation. For movement the caecilian’s body is ringed with skin folds called annuli, perfect for squirming through soft earth.

With their burrowing lifestyle, caecilians don’t need to see or hear well. Therefore, they lack ear holes entirely—which would get full of dirt anyway—and have only tiny eyes for detecting light and dark.

Their skulls are thick and pointy. They have fleshy tentacles between the nostrils and eyes to help them sense prey (Cool Fact Alert… no other amphibian has tentacles). And inside their mouth they have dozens of sharp teeth to catch and gobble dinner… things like worms, snakes, insects, pupae, and even other caecilians!

There are 124 known species, which range in length between 3.5 inches and… get this…  5 feet! In zoos they have lived up to 13 years. And in some species, the babies eat their mother’s skin for nourishment—that’s definitely weird!

Still, we know very little about caecilians. Let’s face it, most people have never seen one. Heck, a good portion of humanity doesn’t even know they exist!

Isn’t that true about so many of Earth’s creatures? We still have so much to discover!

Well, at least I can finally check the box for seeing a caecilian; although it was in the zoo…

                                                       two aquatic caecilians at feeding time 

Maybe someday, with luck, I will see one of these interesting animals in the wild.

The covered cage-style trap remained perfectly still, even as I lifted a pink terry edge and peered inside.

Soft black marbles glimmered in the revealing light. Eyes. The shiny globes were open and anxious, wrapped in a cliché black mask, punctuated by a sharp pointy nose—the intense stare of a cornered raccoon.

                                    The youngster appeared in good health.

This nocturnal omnivore had been captured overnight trying to freeload a can of cat chow. He was not injured, just locked in.

A live trap had been baited in an area where wild emigrants—feral cats, a rare raccoon—have been causing problems for the residents. The cat-food bandit simply needed to be relocated to a more appropriate riparian (river) habitat. I was charged with the transfer.

The animal shifted stiff and tense into the back corner of the small wired space and my heart lurched for the fear of confinement it must feel. I eased the cover back over its hiding spot and promised to do my job with as little stress as possible.

Raccoons are fairly adaptable and the new location was sure to offer all the amenities—year-round water flow, thick flora and a comfortable elevation. Yes, I was pretty sure this little fellow would like its new digs.

In the car, my guest sat securely in the back seat. The cage remained covered to provide the comfort of darkness. My radio was set to the OFF position, as it always is when I have a “wild” rider. Aware of noise and temperature, I conscientiously adjust both to their needs.

We drove together in silence until the road transgressed to dirt and eventually ended on a sandy bank. There, I settled my engine and efficiently moved the towel-draped cage to a dense stand of trees and greenery a few paces from the river’s edge.

Slipping the pink cloth off one end, I quietly worked the trap hinges to open the door. When freedom was presented, the grey raccoon burst without hesitation into the understory.

It stopped and looked back—released animals so often do—eyeing me from the shadows; however, I was too slow to grab my camera and missed the photo op.  

Instead I clicked this blurry image of a furry behinny dashing into the wilderness…

                                                                                 As it should be, I thought with a smile. As it should be.

To read another raccoon story visit: I http://www.arizona-leisure.com/the-desert-wild-snoodleberries.html (Brooke's gets mushy with her vocabulary when she bottle feeds three wriggling baby raccoons who need to gain strength before they can rejoin their mother.)

 It was an honor to see Macho B in the flesh. To touch his warm amber fur, trace fingertips across black markings I’d seen only in photographs. To feel him breathing—chest lifting gently beneath my hand—and hear his steady heartbeat through the length of my stethoscope.

What an unlikely surprise, a rare gift, to be working at the zoo the day Macho B arrived, a jaguar known across oceans and held nearly sacred among conservationists in the American Southwest. A jaguar whose story I had followed for over a decade.

But our time was short. His aged kidneys were failing.

For our veterinary team, the streaming minutes were spent in motion. The doctors did an extensive physical examination. We set monitors, added fluids, drew blood, took radiographs. And vitals—always the vitals—I constantly rechecked them in succession. Heart rate. Respiration. Pulse Ox. Temperature. EKG. Our well-trained movements juxtaposed Macho B’s stillness.

He knew nothing of us and our human compassion. Through it all he remained sedated, his eyes lost in the unconscious gaze of sleepers.

It was a heartrending moment when the truth became clear: despite our urgent care and silent hope, there was no way to heal his ailments—no way to reverse the clock. He was estimated to be sixteen years old, and beyond the diagnosed renal failure he had other issues, too. Time steals health from us all.

Freedom from pain and stress was the most humane offering. I looked around the room; faces were drawn with sadness, eyes tipping with tears. My own heart, too, heaved with sorrow as I felt that beloved feline slip from this world.

In the forest, the death of a wild jaguar would be news to none but vultures and insects. Macho B was a wild jaguar. Yet his death reached round the globe like wildfire sparking across AP, phone lines and emails. He garnered international coverage.

Why, you may ask?  It’s an interesting chronicle to be sure...

Jaguars once inhabited the southwestern United States as far north as the Grand Canyon. By the 1950s only a few remained. The last female jaguar was shot and killed in Arizona in 1963. Although listed as an Endangered Species in 1972, jaguars were believed to be extirpated in our country.

That is, until 1996.

Six months apart, two separate hunters treed and photographed adult male jaguars in southeast Arizona and Panthera onca was resurrected as a United States species.

In the following years, protections were put in place, habitats held open and camera traps set to research the large cats’ territories. As more motion-triggered cameras were added, more images were captured. And the most commonly seen jaguar was Macho B, readily identified by a mark on his left flank that looked rather like…

                                                                      ...well, like Betty Boop.

Here’s a 2007 Smithsonian article about Macho B, the conservation program and the history of jaguars in the United States: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/prowl-200711.html.

Then a few weeks ago Macho B was accidently caught in a trap and biologists took the opportunity to fit him with a GPS collar before releasing him. That collar later showed him to be moving poorly, so he was recaptured and helicoptered up to the Phoenix Zoo for care.

An article in National Geographic describes the circumstances surrounding his death: http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2009/03/090303-jaguar-update.html.

Macho B was an icon, respected and adored. On a personal level, I will always cherish the miracle of our acquaintance. But his legacy was more than the connection we made with him as an individual. He reclaimed a piece of American soil—a powerful reminder that jaguars belong to this land. He rallied us to preserve vital natural space between Mexico and the U.S.—that he survived sixteen years in the wild shows land conservation efforts work.

Fate may have placed me at the zoo that day, but I don’t want to be one of the last Americans to see a native jaguar. We must continue to protect the habitat in hopes another young male overtakes the territory, perhaps expands or adds a family. Just imagine tiny jaguar cubs romping along paths that Macho B once roamed.

That is the way of things. Generations pass on, inviting new life.

Staking his birthright as a historical predator—observed without contact—Macho B was a special link to the natural world. He lived with dignity and died a legend. Yes, that magnificent bespeckled feline certainly left his mark.

                                     May man honor his life and God rest his soul.