Featured Creature: Axolotl

What animal was named after an Aztec god, maintains a youthful appearance for its entire life, and can regrow limbs, organs, and even parts of its central nervous system without scarring?

A leucistic axolotl 
(Image credit: John P Clare via Flickr, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Axolotls happen to be my favorite of all amphibians! Why? They’re just so darn unique (as you’ll find as you read this profile)! I recall seeing my first batch of axolotls when touring a scientific lab in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and I can say without a doubt that they are cuter in-person (especially the hatchlings) than they are through the screen of a computer or television.

But, a laboratory, you say? Today, far more axolotls exist in captivity or in lab environments than in the wild (we’ll get to their hyper-specific range later). Like much of the more-than-human world, the axolotls’ relationship with research environments has been checkered and controversial. Historically, many of the breakthroughs in axolotl regeneration came from invasive lab studies, a reflection of an older scientific mindset that prioritized discovery over care. Today, more researchers (and the rest of us) are asking: ‘how can we learn from nature without harming it?’

Water Dog? Water Monster?! Hardly!

The axolotl is named after the Aztec god of fire, lightning, monstrosities, sickness, and more… Xolotl (English pronunciation: show-LAH-tuhl), who in art was depicted as a dog-headed man, a deformed monster with reversed feet, or a skeleton. According to the creation myth recounted in the Florentine Codex, after the Fifth Sun was initially created, it did not move. Ehecatl (God of Wind, English pronunciation: e-HE-kah-tuhl), consequently began slaying all of the other gods to induce the newly-created Sun into movement. Xolotl, however, was unwilling to die, and among the creatures he transformed himself into in order to avoid capture was an axolotl. In the end, his effort was in vain.

With all of that mythological backstory out of the way, common translations from Nahuatl (the language of the Aztecs) for the axolotl include “water monster” and sometimes “water dog”. Of course, looking at an axolotl, it is obviously not a dog, and CERTAINLY not a monster. 

The Peter Pan of Salamanders

No, I didn’t come up with that phrase myself. Numerous sources, including The Nature Conservancy, have compared the axolotl to “The Boy Who Never Grew Up”. Axolotls are members of the salamander family, and salamanders usually undergo a process called metamorphosis to become adults. It’s very much like how a tadpole becomes a frog, replacing their gills for lungs, and moving around on land. One unique feature of the axolotl is that they never undergo metamorphosis. Rather, they keep their frilly external gills and other juvenile features, and remain in the water for their lifetime. Even though they look like the “tadpole” form of most salamanders, they do become adults in the sense that they are able to reproduce, and grow larger compared to when they hatched (typically up to 9–12 inches (23–30 cm)). This condition or characteristic is known as neoteny.

(Image Credit: John P Clare via Flickr, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0)

A Salamander Superpower

Axolotls are also known for a few other “salamander superpowers,” especially their remarkable ability to regenerate. If a limb, tail, or even part of an organ is lost to injury or predation in the wild, the axolotl simply grows it back, perfectly. Limbs can regenerate multiple times over the course of the axolotl’s life without scarring, and every tissue involved is rebuilt: bone, cartilage, muscle, skin, blood vessels, and nerves. And yes, I said organs too. Limited parts of the heart, lungs, spine, and brain can regenerate as well, and remain fully functional.

While going into detail about just how this regeneration is done would fill a library, from what we know this process starts with a flurry of biological coordination. After an injury, certain skin and muscle cells near the wound site essentially “reset” themselves, reverting to a stem-cell-like state. These cells gather into a small mound called a blastema, not too different from the buds that grow into limbs in a developing embryo. From there, guided by molecular cues from the surrounding tissues, that blastema begins reconstructing the missing part, layer by layer, in perfect proportion and order. Nerves and blood vessels regrow too, restoring full function. 

Axolotls are able to do all this without forming scar tissue — a key difference from most other vertebrates. Non-invasive researchers studying regeneration from an ecological perspective believe this may be due in part to the axolotl’s highly tuned immune response, which seems to encourage healing rather than halt it. Perhaps owing to this physiological philosophy, axolotls also appear to be extraordinarily resistant to cancer. Their cells seem to have built-in checks that limit runaway growth even during rapid regeneration. Do the same mechanisms that allow for precise, rapid regeneration also give the axolotl greater control over proliferating cancerous cells?

A Keystone AND Indicator Species

Axolotls are classified as a keystone species–one that plays a crucial role in maintaining the health and diversity of their native ecosystem(s), as their actions significantly impact the environment and other species. What exactly do axolotls do that impacts their local ecosystem and environment? Axolotls are carnivores, by ingesting with a vacuuming-like maneuver (and thus, controlling populations) various small animals, including insects and their larvae, worms, crustaceans, mollusks, and even small fish. By doing so, they keep these populations in check and help to maintain the balance of their aquatic environment.

Axolotls are also an indicator species–one that is particularly responsive to changes in their environment, which can then be used to assess the health of an ecosystem, the quality of a particular habitat, and/or the impact of human activities. In the case of the axolotl, their sensitivity to changes in water quality, temperature, and pollution levels make them a living, breathing, warning system. A decline in populations of axolotls will often signal broader environmental degradation or changes.

Xochimilco on the outskirts of Mexico City is one of the few places axolotls can be found in the wild.
Pablo Leautaud, CC BY-NC 2.0

Even Superheroes Need Help

Wild axolotls are found in only two (dwindling) places: Lakes Xochimilco and Chalco in the southern reaches of Mexico City. Though they may be eaten by storks, herons, and large fish from time-to-time, their biggest threats are urbanization and pollution of the lakes in which they live.

Life in the manmade canals of Xochimilco, a once-thriving agroecological system, has put the axolotl on a daily collision course with humans and a more extractive built environment. These waterways were once part of chinampa farming, an ancient, sustainable method that supported both people and native species. But centuries of colonial disruption, urban expansion, and pollution have degraded the ecosystem. Today, most of Xochimilco’s water is too toxic to support native life, and axolotls are left struggling to survive in what was once their ecological stronghold.

Their persistent decline has also been attributed to predation from introduced invasive fish and large birds, as well as overfishing for both food and medicinal purposes. They are currently listed as Critically Endangered by the IUCN Red List. While estimates of the number of mature wild individuals are hard to come by and not always reliable, most sources report between 50-1,000, versus at least a million in captivity.

To save wild populations of axolotls, a species recovery plan needs to involve habitat management and restoration before any other measure, such as further axolotl reintroductions. Any reintroduction efforts should take care to avoid introducing potential diseases or genetic problems from captive colonies to wild ones.


Sienna Weinstein is a wildlife photographer, zoologist, and lifelong advocate for the conservation of wildlife across the globe. She earned her B.S. in Zoology from the University of Vermont, followed by a M.S. degree in Environmental Studies with a concentration in Conservation Biology from Antioch University New England. While earning her Bachelor’s degree, Sienna participated in a study abroad program in South Africa and Eswatini (formerly Swaziland), taking part in fieldwork involving species abundance and diversity in the southern African ecosystem. She is also an official member of the Upsilon Tau chapter of the Beta Beta Beta National Biological Honor Society. 

Deciding at the end of her academic career that she wanted to grow her natural creativity and hobby of photography into something more, Sienna dedicated herself to the field of wildlife conservation communication as a means to promote the conservation of wildlife. Her photography has been credited by organizations including The Nature Conservancy, Zoo New England, and the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. She was also an invited reviewer of an elephant ethology lesson plan for Picture Perfect STEM Lessons (May 2017) by NSTA Press. Along with writing for Bio4Climate, she is also a volunteer writer for the New England Primate Conservancy. In her free time, she enjoys playing video games, watching wildlife documentaries, photographing nature and wildlife, and posting her work on her LinkedIn profile. She hopes to create a more professional portfolio in the near future.


Dig Deeper


Featured Creature: Giraffes

What animal, despite having the same number of vertebrae, has a neck longer than the average human, has spot patterns as unique between individuals as our fingerprints, and despite their gentle appearance, can kill lions with a karate-style kick!?

A tower of Reticulated giraffes (G. reticulata)
Image credit: Bird Explorers via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC)

Some might say this is quite the… tall order for my very first Featured Creature profile! (Hold the applause!)

One of my earliest memories regarding these unique icons of the African savanna was when I was around five years old. My parents and I were visiting the Southwick Zoo in Mendon, Massachusetts, when we came upon the giraffe enclosure. One of these quiet, lanky creatures lowered its head across the fence bordering the enclosure, and licked my dad on the face with its looooong, black tongue! Once the laughter had died down, a flood of questions rushed into my head:

Why DOES the giraffe have such a long neck?

How do they sleep at night?

And what’s the deal with those black tongues?

A Tall-Walking, Awkwardly-Galloping African Animal

Their scattered range in sub-Saharan Africa extends from Chad in the north to South Africa in the south, and from Niger in the west to Somalia in the east. Within this range, giraffes typically live in savannahs and open woodlands, where their food sources include leaves, fruits, and flowers of woody plants. Giraffes primarily consume material of the acacia species, which they browse at heights most other ground-based herbivores can’t reach. Fully-grown giraffes stand at 14-19 feet (4.3-5.7 m) tall, with males taller than females. The average weight is 2,628 pounds (1,192 kg) for an adult male, while an adult female weighs on average 1,825 pounds (828 kg).

A giraffe’s front legs tend to be longer than the hind legs, and males have proportionally longer front legs than females. This trait gives them better support when swinging their necks during fights over females.

Giraffes have only two gaits: walking and galloping. When galloping, the hind legs move around the front legs before the latter move forward. The movements of the head and neck provide balance and control momentum while galloping. Despite their size, and their arguably cumbersome gallop, giraffes can reach a sprint speed of up to 37 miles per hour (60 km/h), and can sustain 31 miles per hour (50 km/h) for up to 1.2 miles (2 km).

Herd of giraffes running in Tanzania, Africa

When it’s not eating or galavanting across the savanna, a giraffe rests by lying with its body on top of its folded legs. When you’re 18 feet tall, some things are easier said than done. To lie down is something of a tedious balancing act. The giraffe first kneels on its front legs, then lowers the rest of its body. To get back up, it first gets on its front knees and positions its backside on top of its hind legs. Then, it pulls the backside upwards, and the front legs stand straight up again. At each stage, the individual swings its head for balance. To drink water from a low source such as a waterhole, a giraffe will either spread its front legs or bend its knees. Studies involving captive giraffes found they sleep intermittently up to 4.6 hours per day, and needing as little as 30 minutes a day in the wild. The studies also recorded that giraffes usually sleep lying down; however, “standing sleeps” have been recorded, particularly in older individuals.

Cameleopard

The term “cameleopard” is an archaic English portmanteau for the giraffe, which derives from “camel” and “leopard”, referring to its camel-like shape and leopard-like coloration. Giraffes are not closely related to either camels or leopards. Rather, they are just one of two members of the family Giraffidae, the other being the okapi. Giraffes are the tallest ruminants (cud-chewers) and are in the order Artiodactyla, or “even-toed ungulates”.

A giraffe’s coat contains cream or white-colored hair, covered in dark blotches or patches which can be brown, chestnut, orange, or nearly black. Scientists theorize the coat pattern serves as camouflage within the light and shade patterns of the savannah woodlands. And just like our fingerprints, every giraffe has a unique coat pattern!

The tongue is black and about 18 inches (45 cm) long, able to grasp foliage and delicately pick off leaves. Biologists thinks that the tongue’s coloration protects it against sunburn, given the large amount of time it spends in the fresh air, poking and prodding for something to eat. Acacia giraffes are known for having thorny branches, and the giraffe has a flexible, hairy upper lip to protect against the sharp prickles.

Both genders have prominent horn-like structures called ossicones, which can reach 5.3 inches (13.5 cm), and are used in male-to-male combat. These ossicones offer a reliable way to age and sex a giraffe: the ossicones of females and young are thin and display tufts of hair on top, whereas those of adult males tend to be bald and knobbed on top.

An elderly adult male Masai giraffe at the Franklin Park Zoo, Boston, Massachusetts
Image credit: Sienna Weinstein

There is still some debate over just why the giraffe evolved such a long neck. The possible theories include the “necks-for-sex” hypothesis, in which evolution of long necks was driven by competition among males, who duke it out in “necking” battles over females, versus the high nutritional needs for (pregnant and lactating) females. A 2024 study by Pennsylvania State University found that both were essentially acceptable! Check out the graphic below for a good visualization. 

A graphic summarizing the evolution of the giraffe’s body based on gender needs
Image credit: Penn State University, CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0

A Flagship AND Keystone Species

Alongside other noteworthy African savanna species, such as elephants and rhinoceroses, giraffes are considered a flagship species, well-known organisms that represent ecosystems, used to raise awareness and support for conservation, and helping to protect the habitats in which they’re found. As one of the many creatures that generate public interest and support for various conservation efforts in habitats around the world, giraffes have a significant role.

Giraffes, like elephants and rhinos, are also classified as a keystone species–one that plays a crucial role in maintaining the health and diversity of their native ecosystems, as their actions significantly impact the environment and other species. What is it that giraffes do that impacts their local ecosystems and environment? By browsing vegetation high up in the trees, they open up areas around the bases of trees to promote the growth of other plants, creating microhabitats for other species. In addition, through their dung and urine, they help distribute nutrients throughout their habitat. Some acacia seedlings don’t even sprout and grow until they’ve passed through a giraffe’s digestive system! By protecting giraffes, we also contribute to protecting other plant and animal species of the African savanna and open woodlands!

The Life We Share

The woodlands and grasslands where giraffes live are shaped in part by those long necks and unique feeding habits. As they browse high in the canopy, they open up space for other plants and animals to thrive. These ecosystems aren’t something we built, they’re something we’re lucky to witness. And if we have a role to play, maybe it’s simply to make sure our presence doesn’t undo the work that nature is already doing so well.


Sienna Weinstein is a wildlife photographer, zoologist, and lifelong advocate for the conservation of wildlife across the globe. She earned her B.S. in Zoology from the University of Vermont, followed by a M.S. degree in Environmental Studies with a concentration in Conservation Biology from Antioch University New England. While earning her Bachelor’s degree, Sienna participated in a study abroad program in South Africa and Eswatini (formerly Swaziland), taking part in fieldwork involving species abundance and diversity in the southern African ecosystem. She is also an official member of the Upsilon Tau chapter of the Beta Beta Beta National Biological Honor Society. 

Deciding at the end of her academic career that she wanted to grow her natural creativity and hobby of photography into something more, Sienna dedicated herself to the field of wildlife conservation communication as a means to promote the conservation of wildlife. Her photography has been credited by organizations including The Nature Conservancy, Zoo New England, and the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. She was also an invited reviewer of an elephant ethology lesson plan for Picture Perfect STEM Lessons (May 2017) by NSTA Press. Along with writing for Bio4Climate, she is also a volunteer writer for the New England Primate Conservancy. In her free time, she enjoys playing video games, watching wildlife documentaries, photographing nature and wildlife, and posting her work on her LinkedIn profile. She hopes to create a more professional portfolio in the near future.


Dig Deeper


Featured Creature: Pacific Salmon

This week we ask,

What creatures navigate oceans, climb mountains, feed forests, and motivate us to destroy renewable energy infrastructure?

The Pacific Salmon!

USEPA Environmental Protection Agency (Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

How do salmon find their way home?

Pacific salmon are famous for their migrations from the saltwater habitats they live in as mature adults to the freshwater rivers and streams where they were born and return to spawn. Salmon have two means of finding their way back to where they first hatched, often to the very same patch of gravel.

In the open ocean, they have a GPS system based on the earth’s magnetic fields sensed through their lateral line (a highly-sensitive line of nerves running down each side of their bodies). When they get near shore, they then follow smells that they imprinted from their natal river up to where they originally hatched, to spawn again and continue this cycle.

How do salmon manage to get back upstream?

Salmon make their way back home against the current of streams and rivers, even climbing mountains in the process. As they go, they feed upland forests by transporting ocean nutrients into the headwaters of their natal streams, supporting all kinds of life in the process (and not just hungry bears)!

Istvan Banyai (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

What happens to Pacific salmon after they successfully spawn?

Spawned-out Pacific salmon all die after completing their journey. In late fall, on a salmon river, rotting corpses and dying fish appear everywhere, white with mold and stinking with decay. In doing so, they feed forests and the aquatic life that sustains the next generation of fish when they hatch in the spring. We don’t really know why they all die after spawning, unlike the Atlantic salmon, which live after the process is complete. 

Bears also increase the ecological reach of these salmon by catching them in rivers and streams and carrying them deep into the forest to feast. This brings their helpful nutrients, particularly nitrogen, into dense stretches of forest where they can fertilize the ecosystem and help trees grow. In fact, it is estimated that eighty percent of the nitrogen in the trees of the Great Bear Forest in Canada comes from salmon. Learn about the interdependent links of salmon, bears, and forest health here.

Where do we find Pacific salmon?

Pacific salmon are an anadromous species, which means they live in seawater but spawn in freshwater. They hatch from eggs in gravel and spend their early years in freshwater rivers up high in the mountains and forests along the Pacific coast. Then, once they reach about 6-8 inches in length, they move down through the estuarial waters to spend several years in the open ocean, feeding and growing large, before they journey upstream to spawn and die.

What is the cultural significance of these fish?

Pacific salmon are part of a religious cycle of life for Indigenous peoples on the American and Canadian West coasts as well as across the planet. Their annual return is celebrated as part of a natural process in which Autumn brings a bountiful harvest of fish to add to other stores of food to last through a long cold winter. Salmon are objects of worship by coastal native inhabitants, human and nonhuman alike, who depend on the annual return of these salmon in the fall to help them get through a long cold winter.

A Shoshone-Paiute tribal member during the reintroduction of the Chinook Salmon
into the East Fork Owyhee River by the Shosone-Paiute Tribe (May 28, 2015)
(Photo by Jeff Allen, Northwest Power and Conservation Council)

We want renewable energy sources! So why are we destroying them for these salmon?

From the 18th into the 20th centuries, our human thirst for factory power had us constructing many dams on our rivers, with little attention to their harmful ecological impact. Many of our anadromous fish species – adapted to the specific conditions of their river watersheds – were lost forever when dams left them unable to complete their journeys upstream.

It is only in recent decades that a powerful movement for dam removal and habitat restoration has been gaining momentum as a means of saving these precious species. The beneficial effects of removing these barriers have been spectacular, as rivers – freed from their shackles – blossom with new life. Along with the salmon have come a revival of other runs, including steelhead, herring, eels, shad and other diadromous fish (ones that transition between freshwater and saltwater environments), as well as birds and wildlife previously not seen in these areas. Our rivers are showing us all that we had lost and all the flourishing that is possible once we get out of their way.

How are human activities impacting these salmon?

Pacific salmon are in serious trouble. A thirst for hydropower has placed them at dire risk of extinction. We are removing dams, building fish ladders on existing dams (since their proper design is crucial), making sure culverts and other means of fish passage stay open and unhindered. But salmon are cold water species, so a warming planet puts them in peril.

However, there is much we can do to protect them, and restore them once they are threatened or lost. Several short but informative videos on salmon restoration efforts can be found here and here.

May we keep supporting the Pacific Salmon,

Fred


Fred is from Ipswich, MA, where he has spent most of his life. He is an ecological economist with a B.A. from Harvard and a Ph.D. from Stanford, both in economics. Fred is also an avid conservationist and fly fisherman. He enjoys the outdoors, and has written about natural processes and about economic theory. He has 40 years of teaching and research experience, first in academics and then in economic litigation. He also enjoys his seasonal practice as a saltwater fly fishing guide in Ipswich, MA. Fred joined Biodiversity for a Livable Climate in 2016.