fuzz up all the synapsids – Page 2

Bulbasaurus

Who’s that synapsid?

This creature was a member of the dicynodonts, a group of herbivorous mammal-relatives with beaks and protruding tusks. Its fossils are known from the Late Permian of South Africa, about 259-254 million years ago, and it would have been roughly the size of a cat, around 60cm long (2′).

It wasn’t officially named after the pokémon character Bulbasaur, but instead in reference to the bulbous bosses on its snout. But combined with how the species name “phylloxyron” means “leaf razor”, it doesn’t seem to entirely be a coincidence.

Anteosaurus

Anteosaurus magnificus, a dinocephalian from the Middle Permian of South Africa (~266-260 mya). Known from several skulls and fragments of the rest of the skeleton, it was one of the largest carnivorous non-mammalian synapsids with an estimated body length of at least 5m (16′4″).

It had patches of thickened bone above its eyes forming a pair of short “horns”, as well as heavily reinforced areas around its skull roof and the sides of its lower jaw. These were probably used for head-butting behaviors, and similar adaptations are seen in other groups of dinocephalians.

The front part of its mouth was also prominently upturned, and it had enlarged “sabretooth” fangs – although these features are covered by lips in my reconstruction.

Geikia

Geikia elginensis, a dicynodont synapsid from the Late Permian of Scotland (~254-252 mya). Known only from a single skull discovered in the 1890s, it would have measured around 50cm long and was closely related to South African forms like Bulbasaurus.

It had an unusually shortened snout and forward-facing eyes – sort of like a pug with a beak – and a pair of protruding nasal bosses on its snout. It was probably a selective browser, biting off small pieces of vegetation at a time, and its large eyes and stereoscopic vision suggest it may have been nocturnal.

Unsolved Paleo Mysteries Month #08 – Everything Dies Except Lystrosaurus

The extinction event that wiped out the non-avian dinosaurs is probably the most “famous” mass extinction, but it wasn’t the worst one in Earth’s history. That morbid honor goes to the Permian-Triassic extinction 252 million years ago – also aptly known as the Great Dying.

A truly massive amount of biodiversity was lost in this event, with 96% of marine species and 70% of terrestrial species disappearing. Some marine ecosystems seemed to rebound fairly quickly, but overall it may have taken at least 5-10 million years for anything close to full recovery. Terrestrial vertebrates may even have taken up to 30 million years to regain previous levels of diversity.

And… we’re not sure why it happened.

One of the main potential culprits is the massive eruption of the Siberian Traps – one of the largest known volcanic events on Earth – but other explanations include an asteroid impact, methane-producing microbes, ocean anoxia, the formation of Pangaea, a nearby supernova destroying the ozone layer, and even dark matter.

Or it might have been a result of multiple causes at once, events that wouldn’t have been so severe individually but became disastrous in combination. This is known as the “Murder on the Orient Express Model”: maybe they all did it.

But there’s also a secondary element to today’s mystery. In the aftermath of the Great Dying, a small dicynodont synapsid briefly took over the world. For the first few million years of the Triassic, around 95% of the Earth’s population of terrestrial vertebrates were all Lystrosaurus – no other genus or species of animal has ever dominated to such a degree.

Why did these squat little dog-sized animals survive and thrive when everything else was struggling? They might have been opportunistic generalists able to deal with changing conditions better than other groups, the extinction of most large predators may have allowed their population to explode, or it might simply have been a matter of luck.

We just don’t know.