To paraphrase Pete Seeger, where have all the Monarchs gone?
The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) reports that population of western migratory Monarch butterflies dropped from around 10 million in the 1980s to 1,914 in 2021, a loss of about 99.9 percent of the total population.
Although the source data are a bit complex, many entomologists warn that the beloved Monarchs may soon be among los Muertos themselves. Subspecies identification is difficult for amateurs, and perhaps even for professionals. As a result, the status of the Monarch has wobbled in terms of relative urgency, on and off the IUCN’s “Red List” of Threatened Species over the last several years.
Even people who don’t like insects usually like the Monarch butterfly. And for those of us who love all caterpillars (especially hornworms, tomatoes be damned!) and all butterflies, the Monarch is a celebrity, America’s Sweetheart. And like many celebrities, this Halloween-hued beauty is elusive, and seems to be growing increasingly moreso.
It’s timely to reconsider the Monarch butterfly this time of year. Begin with a sweet stop at La Monarca Bakery & Café, 1001 Mission Street in South Pasadena for Mexican wedding cookies, chocolate and coffee to get into the Muertos spirit. Multi-generations numbering into the hundreds of millions of migratory Eastern Monarchs have historically traveled up to 3,000 miles to overwinter in Michoacan, and their traditional arrival around November 1 has for millennia linked them with spiritual observance this time of year.
And, while the frost may not exactly be on the pumpkin here in the mighty San Gabe, the seasons have indeed shifted. Dusk now unfolds around 6:30 PM, and it’s time to plant native milkweed, the sole food source for the species, to attract Monarchs next spring.
The Xerxes Society for Invertebrate Conservation says beware—because planting the wrong variety of milkweed can be bad for butterflies. The real troublemaker: tropical milkweed, Asclepias curassavica, frequently sold in local nurseries. When you see those yellow-red-orange flowers, keep going.
Tropical milkweed is not native to Southern California, and does not die back for the winter. As a result, the protozoan parasite Ophryocystis elektroscirrah (OE) proliferates in the plants and is bulk-loaded into visiting pollinators. This parasite can harm and kill Monarchs. Also, because tropical milkweed does not die back, the butterflies keep feasting when they should be fasting, and flying south. Tropical milkweed disrupts what’s called diapause and may delay migration if it doesn’t kill the Monarchs outright. This is a case of an abundance of available food being a hazard, sort of like the tainted jicama at the midnight all-you-can-eat-buffet.
Of the 44 or so species of milkweed in the western U.S., all perennials which go dormant in winter. A general rule of thumb for our area: pink, magenta and white milkweed flowers are good, yellow and orange are bad. Asclepias california and Asclepias fascicularis – the latter known as Narrow-leaved milkweed—are safe for our pollinators.
And check the provenance carefully: Asclepias speciosa is a California native with blush-pink flowers, but it belongs in the central and northern reaches of our state, so avoid it when planting for Pasadena and environs.
Remember that Monarchs seem especially attracted to grouped stands of their preferred milkweeds, versus a lone ranger.
Before black cats, there was Cù Sith
And here’s something else to worry about this harrowing Hallows season. Our tough-guy coyotes would cringe in the presence of Cù Sith, a mythical creature of Scotland and Ireland, a specter of death which takes ominous, huge, black (or sometimes green) canine form.
In Britain during pagan times, large dogs were linked with the faerie-realm and other supernatural beings. Sightings were often reported in the vicinity of the lofty Scottish peak of Schiehallion, or Sidh Chaileann, called “the Fairy Hill.” Folktales describe the canine kidnapping humans to serve the fae, or fairies, since in the centuries prior to Disney, fairies were not all sparkles and twinkles and giggles and sugar and spice, to say the least.
With the acceptance of Christianity, the persona of the big black dog grew even darker. The fearsome hound became linked with death and the demonic, and was said to linger in cemeteries, sometimes bursting from a grave to snatch an unsuspecting human.
By the 14th century CE, black cats, not dogs, were consigned to the proverbial doghouse as carriers of disease and minions of the underworld, and dogs have been sort of off the hook from that point forward. Coincidentally or probably not, October 31 / November 1 date pops up in Celtic memory as Samhain, or the new year, when communities gave thanks for the harvest and farmers tilled the soil a final time before the snow and planned which lands would lay fallow in the next cycle.
Today, anthropologists report that Rathcroghan, located on the western plain of Ireland and currently shortlisted as a potential UNESCO World Heritage Site, contains centuries of relics which form the basis of modern Halloween traditions. The Morrigan, Celtic goddess of bloodshed, presides, often in the form of a raven or crow. These traditions included animal sacrifice, and some historians conjecture that jack o’ lanterns took the place of the trophy-heads of decapitated enemies.
As the site of one of Ireland’s three largest pre-Christian cemeteries, in medieval times Rathcroghan was considered the entry-point into the underworld via Oweynagat, the Cave of the Cats.
Thanatologist, author and photographer Paul Koudounaris, who will speak at The Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens on Saturday, October 26 as part of The Huntington’s Strange Science: Out of Time event, has written about the persecution of cats as embodiments of the archetypal Feminine, powerful mother-goddesses, sorceresses and priestesses who fell out of favor when the patriarchal desert faiths took hold.
Dogs, being more truly domesticated than cats, and far more eager to please, became “man’s best friend,” securing this role by cheerfully working alongside humans as hunters and herders and, occasionally, even draft-animals, while any resident felines sulked and schemed beside the fire.
John Milton gets the credit, but perhaps it was a feline who wrote the phrase, “Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven.”
So as we hurry home through the quickening autumnal darkness with our bags of scented pinecones and Tootsie Roll pops, remember that in the past, hearing three howls from the Hound of the Fae, Cù Sith, was believed to stop a human heart from beating.
Pittie-Party
On a much more upbeat note, a dog that’s much-maligned– Pit Bulls and their kind — are the recipients of good vibes generated by two fundraising events taking place on Sunday, November 3 at 12:00 PM and 6:00 PM when The Bourbon Room located on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame will host the 14th annual Stand Up for Pits with Rebecca Corry, presented by Stand Up for Pits Foundation.
This foundation is a 501(c)3 nonprofit dedicated to educating humans, advocating for and saving the lives of Pitties snd Pit-“type” dogs. Much of the needed education pertains to the dog fighting epidemic, which founder Corry describes as “a direct reflection of a broken society, and everyone’s problem.” She adds, “Humans are far more dangerous than animals could ever be.”
The double-header will consist of two separate pro-Pit features. First up, a 12:00 PM screening of “Saving Jones,” a documentary about dog-discrimination written and directed by Rebecca Corry (see trailer). The screening will be followed by a comedy show beginning at 6:00 PM. Doors open at 3:00 PM for the second event, and attendees may enjoy merch, refreshments and a silent auction to benefit the underdogs’ foundation.
This week’s pets in need of homes:
Click on photos to see larger images and captions.
