We get it, dating is hard.

From meeting the right special someone, to getting to know them, to avoiding imminent death.

The bizarre romantic lives of these four tiny creatures   sometimes end in strange and tragic ways.

Especially for the praying mantis.

When it comes to hooking up, a male mantis has good reason to fear commitment This mantis is at the top of her game.

All summer, she’s been bulking up on grasshoppers and flies.

They’re called bordered mantises.

Ambush hunters, cloaked by camouflage.

Some green and some brown.

And check out those forelimbs.

They’re lined with sharp spikes ... ... almost like a couple extra sets of jaws to grab her prey.

They’ve served her well.

But summer is coming to an end  here in California's Owens Valley.

The one thing left for them to do ... ... is start the next generation.

She sends out a chemical signal ... ... an alluring cocktail of pheromones, into the air.

This guy picks up the message.

He’s way, way smaller than she is ... simply outclassed  when it comes to strength and deadliness.

He makes his move, to pass on his genes … Uh … That’s one way to go.

And he’s not the only male  to meet his end this way.

So why would praying mantises do this – eat their own kind at a rather intimate moment?

Seems like they wouldn’t last long as a species.

Well, it takes a ton of energy for females to produce their eggs   – about a hundred of them – developing inside her.

She’ll lay them in a foamy cluster like this called an ootheca.

So that male is fueling the survival of his species, nutritionally speaking.

When they hatch in the spring, there will be plenty more mantises to replace this one.

And these bordered mantises weren’t going to live much longer anyway.

They can’t survive the cold autumn nights.

So males might as well take a shot.

Aww... this time it worked out.

He delivers a packet of sperm to fertilize her eggs.

But each time, it’s a serious gamble.

Well, that didn't go so well.

But wait, look.

He's been decapitated ... but his body is still moving.

Like it’s on autopilot – kind of a zombie mating machine.

It’s being controlled by nerves in the mantis’ abdomen and can still get the job done.

In fact, males who successfully mate  and get eaten in the process may father more eggs than those who get away.

So, while it may not really seem that way,  this guy may be the ultimate winner in the primal quest to pass on his genes.

Barnacles might look like  jagged little rocks at low tide.

But they’re surprisingly well-equipped  when it comes to finding a date.

Finding a date is hard enough in San Francisco.

But it’s especially tricky when you’re stuck to a rock in the middle of the bay.

Still, acorn barnacles don’t get discouraged.

These crusty little animals actually have a pretty wild sex life.

At low tide each one is sealed up inside its own miniature fortress, shielded by a ring of armored plates.

The two central plates press together to form a water-tight seal  so they don’t dry out in the open air.

They’re ready and waiting for the tide to rise so they can get down to business.

But first they need to freshen up a bit.

The barnacle unfurls eight pairs of delicate feathery legs called cirri,   which they use to absorb oxygen from the water.

The legs filter out plankton and debris churned up by the waves ...  ... bringing the catch inside to the mouth.

They may not look like it from the  outside, but beneath their shell  it's easier to see that barnacles are  crustaceans related to crabs and shrimp.

After a nice meal, it’s ready for some action.

The little barnacle lets loose the longest penis of any animal ... ... relative to its body  size of course ... stretching up to eight times the length of the barnacle itself.

And this penis has skills.

It can taste and smell.

And the tip can feel around, probing to see which neighbors have ripe eggs inside.

When it finds what it’s looking for the barnacle delivers sperm to fertilize the eggs.

Barnacles aren’t exactly prudes.

Pretty much everyone is fair play.

Because they’re all hermaphrodites,  simultaneously male and female.

Sometimes it’s one-on-one ... ... sometimes more.

Barnacles are nurturing parents, too.

They hold on to their fertilized eggs  and protect them until they hatch.

These cuties are their baby larvae called nauplii.

This is the young barnacles’ chance for adventure.

They roam the sea searching for food and growing.

If they survive long enough the barnacle larvae mature into cyprids.

At this stage the barnacle doesn’t eat.

The cyprid’s only mission is to find the ideal spot to glom onto before it starves.

Having survived the trials of youth, the barnacle settles in.

Now it’s time to get to know the neighbors.

How far would you go for love?

California newts make an epic journey  back to the pond where they were born.

Check it out.

Life is struggle.

Sex.

Death.

It’s true across nature.

It’s especially true for a newt.

Most of the time, California newts  live quiet, hidden lives in the forest.

But every winter – and newts can live for 20 years – they experience an uncontrollable urge.

It’s called water drive.

They leave the safety of their burrows to go mate.

They begin a treacherous odyssey ... ... a migration back to the pond in which they were born.

It begins with a hormone called prolactin.

the same one that helps women produce breast milk.

In newts, prolactin sparks  a need to become aquatic.

Water could be miles away, like three miles.

That’s the equivalent of 36 miles for you and me.

Scientists don’t know for sure, but some think  newts use their sense of smell to help guide them.

And they only have one real defense against snakes hiding in the brush: their skin.

It’s covered in a poison strong enough  to kill a person, if you ate one.

Newts’ yellow eyes and belly  tell predators to stay away.

But poison isn’t always enough to protect them.

Many never make it.

As they move toward water, newts’ skin  starts to lose its bumps and becomes smooth.

Their long tails flatten into fins.

Their amphibian bodies transform from terrestrial  to aquatic to prepare for a mating frenzy.

The male newt bulks up.

It grows thick pads on its feet, perfect for clamping onto a female.

The word is “amplexus” – Latin for  “embrace,” which is one word for it.

Newts can stay like this for hours, or days.

[drums] The result: egg clusters that females lay in the pond.

So many eggs that newts sometimes eat a few for extra protein.

The ones that survive will grow into larvae and stay in the water for several months, transforming into adults.

In the fall, they’ll leave the pond.

And then, if they’re lucky, they’ll come back here, again, and again, and again.

Or at least, they’ll try.

Earthworm love.

It’s cuddly … and complicated.

From the start, the earthworm is built for romance, with four or five pairs of hearts.

Finding a match, though, that’s a challenge  for these mostly solitary animals.

They go out looking when they’re a few months to a year old and they’ve grown this fleshy, saddle-shaped patch, called a clitellum.

They’re now mature enough to get down to business.

Tube-shaped invertebrate seeks mate  to share loamy soil and good times.

The earthworm follows tastes and smells through dirt or leaf litter to find its valentine.

It crawls around by anchoring its body  with these bristles called setae … … then pushing forward with its muscles.

Along the way, it fuels up on bacteria  and tiny fungi in the soil and leaves,   sucking them in with its mouth.

Such a luscious … lip?

Every earthworm has some non-negotiables: Must breathe through iridescent skin.

Must want kids.

But male or female is not one of them.

All earthworms are both.

They’re hermaphrodites, which automatically  doubles their chances of finding a mate.

When they do, they waste no time.

Side by side, they surround each other with  rings of slime they exude from their skin,   bodies pointing in opposite directions.

And they embrace with these  flaps on their clitella.

They can canoodle like this  for an hour, swapping sperm.

It travels outside their bodies, here,  where they press up against each other,   and flows between these segments  into storage sacs inside.

But their tender act has a dark side.

As they do the deed, the earthworms stab each other with their pointy setae.

Those wounds mean the injured lovers won’t be hooking up with others anytime soon.

Jealous much?

After they’ve parted ways, each earthworm produces a sheath with its clitellum and shimmies it down its tubular body.

The protein-rich ring moves over tiny holes where  it gathers eggs and some of the collected sperm.

Then, it slips right off the  worm and becomes a cocoon.

Baby worms flourish inside,   growing beating hearts that one day  they’ll give to their special someone.