If All the Dinos Died on One Terrible Weekend – Where are All the Bodies?

Creative Commons License photo credit: goldenrectangle

According to the Impact Theory, a rock from space smashed into the earth, threw up a huge dust cloud, chilled the atmosphere and sent down acid rain.  All the dinosaurs died immediately all over the globe or in a week or so.

So….where are the bodies of the victims?

Probability of Becoming a Fossil: 0%     or    100%

If you die on a high plateau or a grassy meadow or on the average forest floor, far from the influence of river floods, your bones will get chewed, cracked, smashed and digested by scavengers. The remnants will get dried up and will flake away to nothing under the sun. Or, if the ground is wet, worms and grubs and fungi will destroy your osseous remnants.

That happens to most dead bodies, most spots, most of the time. Or…

What if you’re lucky enough to die in a depositional basin, where yearly floods bring in layers of sand, silt and mud, and where lake bottoms accumulate blankets of sediment all the time. A place where huge sand bars develop in streams and rivers….

….then the possibility that some of your bones will get buried and fossilized rises to close to 100%.

Dino Extinction Supposedly Hit While Montana Was Getting Sediment
At the time of the Great Dino Die-Off, no sediment was being laid down in most places in the world. But in Montana’s Cretaceous coal fields, there were many swampy lakes and sluggish rivers, locales where mud and sand was being carried in. This depositional activity seems to have continued right through the end of the Cretaceous and beginning of the next Period, the Tertiary (“Age of Mammals”).

In fact, field geologists have a hard time telling where the Cretaceous mud ends and rhe Tertiary mud begins.

Creative Commons License photo credit: etee

If the Impact Theory is right, millions of Triceratops carcasses littered the landscape. Tens of millions of duck-bill dino bones also covered the ground. And….there were no big scavengers to crack the bones. The average dino body would last far longer than usual. Some of the impact victims should have had a high probability of being buried in the mud at the Impact Layer, the sand and silt and mud deposited right after the rock from the sky struck.

Total number of dino bones found right at the Impact Layer – 00.00.

That’s  one reason why I am an Impact Skeptic. You have to do some special pleading to explain the lack of dino bones at the impact layer. You could argue that soil acid dissolved the bones. Or that for a hundred years there was no new mud, no new sand, no new silt.

Could be.

Still, I like to begin with a geological peshat (first impression): When I scan the actual facts on the ground, there is no evidence whatever of a sudden massive death of dinosaurian multitudes at the Impact Layer.

I dinosauri a Cremona
Creative Commons License photo credit: Simone Ramella

Evidence for a Long, Slow Disaster
There are clues that indicate the dino ecosystem was deteriorating long before the impact. The diversity among big, multi-ton dinos went way down about 5 to 10 million years before the end. In the Latest Cretaceous (Lancian Age) in most places in Montana, there are only two common big dinos – either Triceratops or the duckbill Edmontosaurus. It was a dino-monoculture.  At 76 million years ago diversity was much higher.

Serial Killer in Deep Time
The biggest reason I’m a skeptic is the victim profile. When the dinos finally went extinct, salamanders, frogs, pond turtles, river gators all survived and thrived. So did most small terrestrial species. That pattern holds for six other mass extinctions – beginning at 285 million ears ago, long before the first dino. And the pattern is obvious in the last extinction at the end of the Ice Age, 11,000 years ago.

Impact Theory Fails to Predict the Correct Victim Profile
Sudden chill and acid rain will wipe out salamander-oids and frog-oids and turtle-oids. And hit big, active animals far less severely.

The wrong animals died.

Read about my dinosaur extinction theory in an early blog post.

Dimetrodon, Diplocaulus, and the Permian Treasure Trove

For the past month or so, it has felt very much like Christmas in the cave down in the basement (my nickname for our small but homely Paleontology lab). Recently, we opened a freshly recovered plaster jacket containing the arms of a great beast, the Permian finback Dimetrodon, and hope to exhume his ancient limbs soon. However, there have been several positive delays that have hindered our progress. This jacket has become the gift that keeps on giving, and has yielded much more than was expected.

After retrieving the jacket (click here for an example of this process) and carefully re-depositing it in our lab for meticulous preparation, we began digging from the top of the jacket – however, the Dimetrodon’s arms that we discovered on the surface are at the bottom of our jacket due to the fact that we always flip the jacket over in the field in order to extract it. Thus, we have a certain amount of sediment we must carefully burrow through, much like a blind mole, before we get to our objective – the arms. As a result of this process, anything in between is an unexpected, though happily accepted, added bonus.

The oddly-shaped Diplocaulus.

Our first bonus from the plaster casket was an immediate discovery and occurred during the “jacket flipping” process. This was a very fortuitous event, as we would later discover. After the 300 lb jacket had been flipped, one of our veteran diggers noticed the hint of a small, square bone just barely revealing itself from the moist red clay lining the surface of our upside-down jacket. The identity of the fingerprint pattern on the bone was undeniable: the boomerang-headed amphibian Diplocaulus. 290 million years in the dark red beds of what is now North Texas only to be tossed from its deep sleep in a matter of seconds. Our hearts raced at the thought of a complete Diplocaulus skeleton, as we had but bits and pieces of the odd creature to date. And what an odd creature it was. Imagine a three foot salamander with a boomerang for a head.

Arm-Jacket Amphib 3
Notice the unique texture on the fossil –
a sure sign you’ve found
a Diplocaulus fossil.

Ignoring the desire to uncover the bone further, we shrouded the exposed surface with layers of aluminum foil and entombed the new specimen once more in plaster for the long haul to Houston. We now had two specimens that would need scrupulous attention upon reaching the lab.

The jacket was finally opened about a month later. Our newest paleo volunteer, Meredith, was assigned to work with me on the jacket. I opened the aluminum foil and plaster lid, re-exposing the red clay that I knew housed the Dimetrodon limb some three hundred millimeters or so below the surface. The small piece of Diplocaulus skull peered up at us. It was beautiful. The fingerprint pattern of the skull was astonishingly clear and well preserved.

Volunteer Meredith Fontana
holds the maxilla, the facial
skull bone that contains most
of the teeth of a large

The prep process began under Meredith’s careful fingers. Our speed of prep was severely diminished due to the presence of our newest Diplocaulus – and hopes that it would reveal more than a fragment of skull. Soon more skull fragments appeared. And more. Then ribs. Then vertebrae. All so very tiny. The largest vertebra was a mere seventeen millimeters. The entire animal in life was no larger than a cat. The ribs are quite peculiar; very flat and uncurved. Imagine this curious creature with a remarkably flat belly that clings advantageously to the bottom of a mud-filled wallow or other small body of water.

The eruption of bone continued, and is continuing. The possibility of having our very first complete Diplocaulus, or boomer-head as we call them, is a very distinct possibility. I realized this animal did not yet have a name. All our Permian pets receive names, mind you. After discussing the possibilities with our well-seasoned digger Johnny “The Mole Man” Castillo, we agreed that “Meredith” would be the name of our little amphibian. After all, our volunteer Meredith had been the sole prep-tech for this jacket.

Johnny Castillo prepares Meredith for
removal by adding a mini plaster jacket to
the skeleton to keep each bone in place.

The next bonus appeared a week ago; a beautiful, small, jaw full of teeth. Twenty of them, to be exact. Upon first glance at this handsome little jaw, I assumed I was seeing more of our dear Meredith, though something seemed rather odd. The teeth were not as needle-like as they should have been to be Diplocaulus; the jaw was not as round. I noticed that one of the teeth was loose. This was both good and bad. Re-attaching teeth to jaws is exceedingly complicated, and when you have a jaw that is only six-and-a-half centimeters long with itty-bitty teeth… We like to be perfectionists when it comes to prep and pre-dino dentistry is quite difficult.

This loose tooth was my chance to attempt to i.d. its owner. Under a microscope I stared at this magnificent crown in the palm of my hand. My heart stopped. Tiny serrations lined the outer edge. This wasn’t Diplocaulus. Who had serrations at this time? Dimetrodon did. But was this Dimetrodon?

chis jaw 1
Extremely tightly packed teeth may offer
an idea on how young Dimetrodons
regrow their teeth.

I looked at the tiny jaw. All the teeth were the same size.  Except for a missing tooth at the front of the jaw which would have been obviously larger, but not by much. My heart skipped a beat this time. It was strikingly similar to a specimen possibly new to science discovered right here in our very own labs. It was only just recently we discovered a jaw which may soon prove to be a new genus of Sphenacodont. Sphenacodonts, a family of Pelycosaurs which includes our favorite fin-back Dimetrodon,  were the first animals to evolve a specialized set of teeth which include a large canine tooth as well as smaller cutting teeth. Thus they are less like reptiles and more like mammals. Our distant cousins, these mammal-like-reptiles, would probably have been endothermic, or warm-blooded, as well.

I compared the two jaws closely. Both jaws contained the two sizes of teeth; the larger canine and the smaller canines, but the position of the teeth was a bit different.

I stared in disbelief; my heart had resumed beating as I thought about the other possibilities. Loomisi was another Dimetrodon species we were familiar with who also had serrated, tightly-packed teeth, and as Dr. Bakker suggested to me, a young Loomisi may be similar to the new specimens. Unfortunately, part of the jaw is missing. Consequentially much more analysis will have to be done before a final identification can be given.

chris jaw 2
What could this be?

The arms of the great Dimetrodon are still buried, all thanks to an amphibian named Meredith and some other strange beast who got in the way. The arms will have to wait while Christmas in the cave continues. The dust from the white plaster jackets fall to the floor like a fine powder snow, and our plaster gift keeps on giving. A Permian present wrapped in plaster and burlap, filled with bizarre creatures most of us only dream about; amazing creatures that lived 290 million years ago that tell us a story of what our planet was like before the first dinosaurs.