WORMS OF MASS DUPLICATION

If I were to say “hammerhead”, what animal comes to mind? I’m sure
most of you would say the hammerhead shark. While hammerhead sharks cruise the
oceans with their iconic T-shaped heads, hammerhead flatworms ooze across
driveways and freak out gardeners pulling weeds.

They are native to Southeast Asia and were first documented in the
USA in the early 1900’s arriving on infested plants and soil. They can be found
across the USA but they prefer warm, humid conditions and have been reported in
Dallas, Austin, Houston and along the coast.

Hammerhead worms are an invasive species and pray on our beneficial
earthworms and other invertebrates. Because earthworms are necessary for the health of our forests,
crops, gardens and compost piles, hammerheads can negatively impact local
ecosystems.

They are light brown or honey colored with 1 to 5 dorsal stripes
and can grow up to a whopping 15 inches! They secrete a toxin to make themselves noxious to predators,
and to aid in digestion. The toxin can potentially cause nausea and vomiting in
pets if ingested and causes skin irritations in humans.

Like something right out of a horror
movie, if you were to cut a hammerhead in two, two new worms will form. Cut it in 4 pieces and you will get 4 new worms. That’s why
it’s important to know how to properly dispose of them. First of all, if you
find one, wear gloves. You can spray them with a combination of citrus oil and
vinegar or just vinegar alone. After you spray them, place them in a Ziploc
bag. You can also put the worm in a Ziploc bag and then add salt or vinegar.
Then dispose of the sealed bag. Report
your finding to the Texas Invasive Species Institute (https://tsusinvasives.org/). This organization is focused on research,
coordinating early detection and a rapid response to invasive species that
currently impact, or have the potential to impact, our ecosystems.

And so, beware the hammerhead
worm. Just remember: if you see one, don’t panic and resist the urge to whack
it (seriously, it’ll just clone itself like it’s auditioning for a sci-fi
reboot), and let it remind you that even in the garden, nature has a bizarre
sense of humor.