05/27/2026
πΏ Wildlife Wednesday: Extirpated Species Edition πΏ
This week we're shining a light on a species most New Yorkers have never heard of because it's been gone from our state for nearly 40 years. Meet the Allegheny Woodrat (Neotoma magister).
The Allegheny woodrat is the second largest member of the native North American rats and mice subfamily, roughly the size of a grey squirrel. And despite its name, it's not closely related to the European rats most people picture, it's actually more closely related to the White-footed deer mouse. Throughout its range, the Allegheny woodrat is associated with extensive rocky areas. In New York, records were restricted to accumulations of large talus boulders throughout the Hudson Highlands and Shawangunk Mountains of southeastern New York.
A decline in the woodrat's numbers and range was first noticed in the 1940s and by 1980, biologists knew of only five remaining sites in New York, and the last of those was extirpated in 1987. Researchers have identified a cascade of stressors following European settlement including large-scale deforestation, the loss of the American Chestnut, habitat fragmentation , spongy moth defoliation, and increased competition for mast from rebounding deer and turkey populations. But the final blow? Raccoons. In 11 of 12 recovered carcasses from a 1990 reintroduction attempt, the cause of death was raccoon roundworm (Baylisascaris procyonis). A parasite whose eggs contaminate soil through raccoon f***s and are deadly to woodrats.
There is a single potentially extant occurrence in New York, representing a recent rediscovery in Rockland County, but it likely represents immigrants occasionally moving north from New Jersey's only known population, which itself is estimated at fewer than 50 individuals. The woodrat's return to New York would seem to require a substantial and long-term decline in raccoon numbers - a tall order given how well raccoons thrive alongside human development.
The Allegheny woodrat is a reminder that extirpation isn't always a single dramatic event. Sometimes it's a slow unraveling, one thread at a time, until a species that called a place home for 20,000 years quietly disappears.
Sources: NYS DEC (dec.ny.gov) | NY Natural Heritage Program (guides.nynhp.org)