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Climate & Environment

It's my second year raising monarchs. Here's what happened when a devastating parasite took hold

An adult monarch butterfly hangs upside down from its chrysalis against a pot
An adult monarch butterfly hangs from its chrysalis after emerging.
(
Lucy Copp
/
LAist
)

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From the day I bought my first milkweed plant to the day my last monarch flew the coop a month later, I was wholly consumed by the magic and mysterious science of a monarch butterfly's lifecycle.

It was around this time last summer. I had just learned that monarch butterflies are endangered, their population decreasing due to a lack of milkweed — their host plant. But I also learned I could grow milkweed and play a small part in restoring this resource for them. So I bought some milkweed, not expecting the literal wings and more that would unfold before me.

But this year brought new challenges.

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The parasite I didn't see coming

A few weeks ago, with an open heart and milkweed reaching for the sun, I sat and waited for the monarchs to come.

And they did.

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A monarch caterpillar hangs on a narrow leaf of a milkweed plant
The author's milkweed plant, complete with a monarch butterfly caterpillar.
(
Lucy Copp
/
LAist
)

Butterflies flew in and laid their eggs. Caterpillars hatched and ate the milkweed.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan.

My phone filled up with pictures — like an overbearing stage-mom, so proud of my little larvae becoming more and more rotund with each passing day.

The caterpillars went to chrysalis, transforming into a milky green bulb with twinkling gold trim. I watched. I waited.

The first adult monarch emerged.

But it didn't unfold. I gasped.

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Something was terribly wrong.

Something was terribly wrong.

And so the research began

Ophryocystis elektroscirrha. That jumble of letters is the name of a parasite that infects monarchs. It is more commonly referred to as OE.

It causes deformities in the adult monarch — shrunken wings, crumpled wings, folded wings — which is what I witnessed with my monarchs. It's a heartbreaking thing to see.

Two green chrysalises hang from the lip of a clay pot.
Two monarch chrysalises. Upon close inspection, they might show signs of OE, especially during the late stages of development.
(
Lucy Copp
/
LAist
)

After my first monarch emerged with signs of OE, I started doing research. Lots and lots of research.

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Here's what I discovered:

1. OE is a single-celled organism that hangs out as spores in the environment, including on plants.

2. To survive, it must find a host — the monarch.

3. When monarch caterpillars eat an infected plant, the dormant spores begin to reproduce, essentially activating the parasite. Most of the damage takes place during the chrysalis stage, as the parasite proliferates.

4. When the monarch finally emerges, it is infected with OE, which can present in different ways.

5. The monarch is also covered in dormant spores at this point, which helps the parasite spread.

Looking for signs

The most obvious signs of OE are the deformities of the adult monarch when it emerges from its chrysalis. The picture above is an example. But signs can also be present before this.

Oftentimes, the chrysalis itself will have dark spots that appear asymmetrically. In extreme cases, the chrysalis can look like it's rotting.

Unless you test a monarch caterpillar for OE, you probably wouldn't be able to tell whether it's infected. However, sometimes you can see OE spores on the milkweed plant.

When I bought milkweed this year, I noticed black dots on the underside of the leaves. I didn't know what it was, but it looked ominous, so I removed those leaves. Knowing what I know now, that was probably OE.

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The author holds an adult monarch in the palm of her hand.
An adult monarch infected with OE.
(
Lucy Copp
/
LAist
)

Now what?

This is the part I've struggled with the most. So far this year, I've had 11 caterpillars go to chrysalis. Only three of them were able to fly away. The rest have had such severe deformities that they couldn't fly at all. Two never even emerged. It's been brutal to watch.

From my research and advice I've received, there is no absolute (nor entirely agreed upon) way to resolve this. You can find endless forums online. Some people say it's best to euthanize the adult monarchs that are clearly infected by freezing them. That prevents the spread of the parasite, which is argued to be the most humane method.

Was it right to kill a butterfly and in doing so, possibly prevent the spread of a parasite?

I tried this. When one of my adult monarchs emerged from its chrysalis with hardly any wings, I placed it in a plastic bag and put it in the freezer.

Even now, about a week later, I feel conflicted. Was it right to kill a butterfly and in doing so possibly prevent the spread of a parasite? And is that really why I euthanized it? Or was it because it was so unbearable to watch this beautiful creature emerge so deformed that I wanted to end its misery? Or did I just want to end my misery? Ah!

Look, maybe I'm over thinking it all. Or maybe I'm asking myself important questions about what it means to care for a wild animal — how to intervene, when to intervene and whether I should intervene at all.

Other steps to consider

While euthanizing is one thing to consider, there are other steps that might prevent spread:

1. Cut down the milkweed plant so adult monarchs can't continue to lay eggs.

2. Bleach the milkweed plant and soil to kill any remaining parasites. There are lots of resources online for how to do this.

3. If you are raising monarchs in an enclosure, make sure that enclosure is also cleaned with a bleach solution.
A woman smiles with a monarch butterfly on her nose.
Sometimes when you're caring for monarchs, one lands on your nose.
(
Lucy Copp
/
LAist
)

In some ways, this season of rearing monarchs in my own little pocket of the world has been discouraging. Tears have been shed; guilt has been felt.

But the monarchs, in all their states and stages, have a way of pulling me in so close that, for a moment, everything else in this crazy world fades away.

For that, it's all worth it. And we'll try again next year.

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