Although an agile climber, the leopard rat snake is entirely at home on the ground.
Because of superficial similarities to our corn snake, not the least being that of color and pattern, this pretty rat snake was often referred to by American hobbyists as the European Corn Snake. Like our corn snake, the leopard rat snake, Zamenis situla, was also once contained in the then cosmopolitan genus Elaphe making the nomenclatural analogy even more understandable.

Today most North American rat snakes are contained in the genus Pantherophis while the leopard rat snake, now in the genus Zamenis, is the most brightly colored of the three species in that Old World genus.

The leopard rat snake occurs in both a saddled and a striped morph. The ground color varies through shades of gray to a warm tan and the red dorsal markings may be strongly or vaguely outlined in black. A black band extends across the top of the head from eye to eye and the anteriormost red marking is in the form of a spearpoint, pointed end foremost.

Occasionally reaching a length of 3 ½ feet, these slender snakes are usually adult at 3 feet or slightly less and the females are often the larger sex.

Our captives have proven shy, seasonably active, and spend most of their time securely hidden in their hideboxes. They prefer small prey items, and several of ours were reluctant to accept white mice of any size but would readily eat deer and white-footed mice. A 90 day period of hibernation is recommended.

During their active period a cage temperature of 70-75F is satisfactory but a basking hot spot of 85-90F should be provided.

Clutch size is usually 4 to 6 large, elongate, eggs. Incubation (60 to 70 days) should be at about 82F. Hatchlings may refuse food until they have been hibernated.

Although capable of climbing, the peeper does not usually ascend very high.
Although peeper season down here in the “deep southeast” (nFL, sGA and sAL) is now almost over (it’s mid-April), it was brought to my attention the other day that it has just started up in the northland that I still think of as “home.”

Unlike in New England, where winter is a fearsome period of unruly (and usually COLD) weather and warmth providing fireplaces, down here, rather than by climatic extremes, “winter” is best defined by calendar dates. Depending on rains and temperatures peepers, Pseudacris crucifer, in the southeast may be heard calling in the late autumn to and through the winter months (November to March). So in actuality they (and most other chorus frogs, of which the peeper is one, are winter peepers.

Peepers are capable of limited metachrosis. They are usually darker when cold than when warm. And a darker, often imperfect, X (the crucifix from which the species name crucifer, is derived) is usually visible on their back. This little frog, a hylid (treefrog), has tiny toetip discs that allow it to climb, even if haltingly, and is adult at a SVL of 1.5” or less.

For the most part, our chorus frogs are done vocalizing until next autumn. Now with the advent of warmer weather it’s treefrog time, with the green treefrog often leading the other choristers. It’s nice to have frog voices year round.

It is during the breeding season that the head of the male broad-head is fiery and enlarged.
The broad-headed skink, Plestiodon laticeps, is easily kept but not always easily bred.

It was way back in the early 1950s that I first saw this species. It was then known as the “greater five-lind skink.”

I was on the 2nd floor of a deserted and decrepit house on Okeetee Hunt Club. Gordy and I had just left Carl, Bob, and Zig, and were hoping to find a few more herps before nightfall. I was infatuated with the region’s resident rat snakes, the black (actually more greenish than black) and corn snakes. Knowing that the former were accomplished climbers, I had climbed the rickety stairs and was checking the rotted and loosened window sills. No rat snakes yet but as I moved to where a hefty limb lay against the house I saw what was until then the prettiest lizard I had ever seen in wild. Having it’s body a burnished brown and it’s head a fire orange, I had just met a male broad-headed skink.

I soon had acquired a pair of these beauties—the male from SC and the female from FL. They were kept in a 36gal savanna terrarium with climbing/basking limbs and profuse ground cover/hiding areas that included enough soil to burrow. The diet consisted of insects and occasional small pinkies. They had a large ceramic dog watering bowl. The terrarium was sprinkled occasionally. A natural photoperiod and a hotspot of 105+F was provided on a uppermost limb. The lizards thrived, breeding several times during the years I kept them.
Today I live in Florida and wild examples of this taxon are almost daily warm weather visitors on our back deck. I never tire of seeing them.

Despite the similarity of appearance to that of a slimy salamander, the white-spot is more closely allied to the Wehrle's salamander
“Looks bad, Jake.”

There was 4” of snow and the higher we climbed the faster the snow was falling. We were on a mountaintop on the WV-VA stateline hoping to find a white-spotted (Cow Knob) salamander, Plethodon punctatus. Although having the white-spots on a black ground color of a slimy salamander, this 6-inch long montane caudatan is more closely allied to Wehrle’s salamander.

As I had done a decade-plus earlier, Jake was now trying to accrue a life list of all USA herps, and P. punctatus was one of the few Appalachian caudatans remaining on his “wannasee” list. But despite our efforts on that day and the next to two locales, we failed to find this wanted and localized taxon.

On day one, after a slow, rocky, muddy, several mile climb on a Jeep trail, my trusty CRV made it to within .8 mile of the destination. At that point we encountered a Jeep-only puddle that prevented us going further. But it mattered not. Because of the snow cover and existing snow storm, we had learned by that time it that it was almost impossible to find the habitat we had hoped to see, and the cover we did find was still frozen to the ground.

Except for not being stopped by a puddle, conditions on day two conspired equally against us. The snow was even deeper, the ground cover was still frozen. And if salamanders were there they succeeded in hiding from us. It was time to give up.
C’mon spring!