Sequencer

As a fungus pushes dozens of amphibians into extinction, researchers search for whatever hope they can grab.

Erin Lundy hasn’t always loved frogs. The Hawaiʻi-born biologist and animal care expert had more of a soft spot for marine mammals and in 2018 began working with otters and seals at the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach, California. “They’re very cute, charismatic, and smart,” Lundy told me. Frogs may be cute, she added, but they’re not known for their smarts. 

A couple years into her work in Long Beach, the aquarium needed help with amphibian conservation. A coworker asked if Lundy liked frogs. She replied: “Yeah, enough.”

Against all odds, she came around on amphibians. At first glance, a palm-sized tattoo of an otter inside Lundy’s forearm backs up her professed love of mammals. But there’s a surprise in the tattooed otter’s grasp: a tiny, colorful mountain yellow-legged frog. “It turns out I really like frogs,” she said. 

Lundy became captivated by how in tune frogs are with their habitat. Amphibians have porous, permeable skin that sensitizes them to all the chemicals and conditions of their environment. “They like stability — they don’t like super hot, super cold,” Lundy said. “They’re incredible indicator species of what the health of our environment actually looks like.” 

Read the full story in Sequencer Magazine