I am talking with a few friends on the hotel terrace when a large butterfly lands on our table right next to me. Its black wings are embellished with lively orange patterns. Its body is pointing away from me, but I immediately notice that it has only three legs—one on one side, and two on the other. “Look,” I exclaim and point at the butterfly, “three legs only!” My index finger scares it away, but it returns to the same spot in a few seconds. This time it is pointing straight toward me. “Three legs only,” I repeat under my breath. “Imagine,” I continue excitedly, “one leg less, and it won’t be able to land ever again!” As everyone leans over to inspect the poor insect, it flies away for the second time. “Hey,” I look around the table, “the poor thing is on its last legs!” Everyone laughs, but this time the butterfly does not return.