Brace yourselves for a dip into the Big Gore-Tex Northwest Mailbag, an exercise more regular than your semiannual deep gum cleaning — and at least 19 percent more enjoyable. Straight from the top:

Q: Is it true that the mild winter we just went through will leave us with swarming hordes of miserable insects this summer?

A: Oh, baby. It's true. Earlier this spring, Annoying-Insect Scientists (they ask that you please do NOT drop the hyphen) at noted bug-and-beef institution Washington State University were already warning of a banner summer for, among other delights, yellow jackets, which knew how to go crazy and attack in swarms long before killer bees made it cool.

Bug doctors said various pesky creatures were emerging from whatever hell they normally reside in as much as a month early this year. That means they're likely to not only survive in much greater numbers than normal, but have enough breeding time to produce an entire extra generation by the end of summer.

We paraphrase known early bug-food sources, Lewis and Clark: "Costco-sized DEET tank in view. O, the joy."

Q: What's the deal with these exploding toads in Germany?

A: Top European exploding-amphibian scientists (again, careful with the hyphen) have yet to agree on a cause for toads swelling up to thrice their normal size, then bursting, sending streams of guts three feet in the air in a "Pond of Death" near Hamburg. One theory has the toads bloating in self-defense to ward off attacks from crows — turning themselves into literal popping scarecrows.

We can predict this: Any future updates on this story carried by Fox News will refer to these suicidal amphibians as "homicide frogs."

Actually, the whole thing served as a timely reminder of much larger incident of exploding gobs o' guts: That infamous 8-ton beached-whale carcass that some state of Oregon geniuses blew up with 20 cases of dynamite back in 1970. To view the truly hilarious newscast video (most enduring line: "for the blast blasted blubber beyond all believable bounds") of this landmark event in human stupidity, see The Exploding Whale Web site, www.hackstadt.com/features/whale/.

Q: Speaking of dead whales: A couple years ago, there seemed to be a lot of squawking in D.C. about changing or repealing the Endangered Species Act. What has become of the landmark law protecting some of our most cherished creatures?

A: It's still on the books. But more important changes are under way at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the agency in charge of enforcing it. With little fanfare last month, the Bush administration appointed as acting director of the agency Matthew J. Hogan, who — and this is too perfect to be made up — cut his teeth in Washington as a lobbyist for that great wildlife protection group, Safari Club International.

Safari Club touts itself as a "conservation" group, which in some ways, it is: It supports many efforts to conserve vanishing species so its members can blow them away and mount them on the trophy-room walls of their 23,000-square-foot summer houses.

The group's idea of the ultimate sportsman is one who has successfully bagged the Africa Big Five (leopard, elephant, lion, rhino and buffalo), the North American Twenty-Nine (all species of bear, bison, sheep, moose, caribou and deer), Big Cats of the world, Antlered Game of the Americas, and so on. To get the full slate of 29 Safari awards, the U.S. Humane Society points out, a Safari Club manly man would need to slay a minimum of 322 separate species.

Typical of the Safari Club hunter: former Seahawks owner Ken Behring, who donated $100 million to the Smithsonian Institution and tried to get the Smithsonian to assist in importing into the U.S. one of his trophies — a rare sheep he had shot in Kazakhstan (one of about 100 of its kind still alive) and shipped to a Canadian taxidermist. (After initially applying for an import license, the Smithsonian let the matter drop after it became controversial.)

Fish and Wildlife, now headed by Hogan, is in charge of those import permits.

What's it all mean? Time for real wildlife advocates to get creative. With the Safari Club wolves in charge of the hen house, maybe the best way to get Northwest icons like orcas listed by the feds as endangered is to start speaking Bush's language: Stow those boring scientific arguments and simply push the idea that a Namu head would look really cool stuffed and mounted on somebody's wall.

Q: Any other big appointments like that to warn us about?

A: Next week, the president is expected to name Paul J. Bunyan as interim director of the U.S. Forest Service and Bluto H. Blutarsky as Secretary of Education.

Q: Did you get any good advice from last week's column about trying to rein in Mabel the Wonderdog, who is extremely well behaved except for her bad habit of occasionally taking off and refusing a "recall" command?

A: Man, did we ever. Thanks to the many dozens of you who wrote with advice and, in many cases, pure empathy. We'll try some of the suggestions and offer up the results in another column a bit down the road. Meanwhile, if you see a smiling yellow dog trotting through your back yard, so sorry — she's just passing through.

Trail Mix appears here every Thursday. Ron C. Judd: 206-464-8280 or rjudd@seattletimes.com