Back in 2005, when I was a field assistant with the Nantucket Conservation Foundation, I spent many days in the heathlands on my hands and knees recording vegetation—an integral part of our research. One early fall day, as I placed my hand on the ground, a severe pain generating from the palm of my hand pulsed up through my arm. Looking back at the spot where my hand had been I expected to see a shard of glass or a giant rose thorn. None of the above. I had just squished a puss moth caterpillar with my palm.