They are natural gardeners and habitat creators, but these creatures don’t get much respect. It’s time for that to change.

The questions never fail to render me momentarily speechless: “Are groundhogs good for anything? I can’t stand them.” “Squirrels eat my birdseed. Why should I protect them?” “We have a lot of ants and wasps. How can I get rid of them?”

You’d think I’d be prepared for such curveballs at the end of my humane gardening presentations. But after delivering an hour’s worth of impassioned scientific and ethical arguments for caring about all the wild animals living among us, I sometimes get so absorbed in my own excitement  that I lose sight of the skeptics. It just takes one question out of left field to jolt me back to reality, though.

While I’m grateful for the chance to sharpen my case, I regret the times I haven’t fully articulated why a given creature matters. I’ve never been a linear thinker, so in my mind, a seemingly straightforward inquiry can have infinite answers. And they’re all connected, sparking so many simultaneous thoughts that sometimes I feel like my brain is about to catch fire.

But my thought process isn’t that different from the patterns in nature, where organisms thrive on an endless web of connections that we are only just beginning to understand. We certainly know enough, though, to inspire us to nurture these relationships—and to conclude that welcoming some species while projecting antipathy onto others defeats the purpose of a wildlife garden. Take the ants away, and you may have fewer flowers. Remove the moles, and your invasive earthworm population may skyrocket. But learn to live with all the creatures who want to settle into your home habitat, and an astonishing balance of life will start to unfold. With a little knowledge, a fresh perspective, and an open heart, you can come to appreciate the roles each one plays, starting with these underappreciated animals.

1. Groundhogs are nature’s homebuilders.

Groundhogs know how to live, sleeping through the winter and catching a few rays by sunbathing when the weather warms up. That doesn’t mean they avoid hard work, though. Just as pileated woodpeckers turn tree snags into wildlife condos for other avian families, groundhogs are industrious homebuilders and habitat creators. Their earthen burrows shelter reptiles, amphibians, foxes, skunks, opossums, snakes, and raccoons. Their formidable excavation projects aerate soil that nurtures more plants for wildlife. And their taste for clover, dandelions, and other prolific forbs makes them helpful weeders, especially for gardeners who shun herbicides.

Groundhogs have a special interest in fleabane, an early-blooming native that feeds bees and is often as ill-regarded as the groundhogs themselves. But the rare gardener who allows this small daisy-like flower to thrive will find it serves as a welcome diversion from more prized crops. Witness this little guy studiously avoiding  vegetables in favor of the fleabane salad my friend Steven Yenzer leaves in his pathways:

It’s a much kinder strategy than trapping and relocating, which is likely to doom a groundhog and her family to suffering and early death.

2. Ants make more plants.

The next time you see a violet, wild ginger, or wood poppy sprout where you didn’t plant it, you may have an ant to thank.

Ants spread many of our spring ephemerals by carrying seeds to their colonies, where larvae nibble on protein- and lipid-rich fleshy attachments called elaiosomes. After the feasting, worker ants carry what remains—usually an intact seed—to a communal garbage pile. Soon enough, the ant’s trash becomes a flower’s treasure, as the tiny compost heap filled with decomposing foods, feces and carcasses passes along a wealth of nutrients to the next generation of seedlings.

3. Wasps create nests for the birds and the bees.

Those tubular sculptures that appear under decks get little respect from humans, who often spray or swat them away. But the nests are the handiwork of organ pipe mud dauber wasps, who stuff their creations with paralyzed spiders for their larvae to feed upon. Gentle, solitary creatures, mud dauber wasps rarely sting, and they helpfully carry pollen from flower to flower while feeding on nectar.

After the wasps’ young charges have grown up and flown away, native bees may take up residence in the abandoned nest. Also gentle and not apt to sting, many of North America’s bee species lay eggs in holes of stems, twigs, dead trees, fallen logs, wasp nests and other natural cavities.

Larger creatures who benefit from wasps’ architectural prowess include birds, who recycle the remains of nests of baldfaced hornets in their own construction projects in the spring. Leave vacated wasp homes where you can, and you might be surprised by who moves in and raids all the fixtures.

4. Moles till and protect the soil.

Moles and I have a lot in common: We both like ripping up turfgrass. In the process of tunneling through the subsurface, moles also grocery-shop for earthworms, paralyzing and stockpiling them in their kitchen areas for eventual consumption. At a time when the voracious appetites of invasive earthworms can reduce seed germination and spongey soil layers where many of our native plants thrive, moles are even more welcome residents in a home garden.

Contrary to popular belief, moles don’t eat plants. And though they may inadvertently push a few out of the ground, their tilling and aeration services result in excellent substrates for new seedlings. Taking a cue from British gardeners who’ve used molehill soil in potting mix, I add transplants directly into the hills. In spots where I’ve let the hills be, mosses congregate and attract Carolina wrens, who gather the beautiful green carpeting for their nests.

5. Squirrels help trees and bees.

Maligning squirrels is a national pastime, especially among backyard birders. But expanding your observations beyond the myopic view of the bird feeder reveals just how much squirrels contribute to wildlife gardens. They’ve planted countless trees in our habitat, with hickories and walnuts and oaks sometimes popping up where we least expect them. Squirrels are also likely responsible for the presence of our red-shouldered hawks and barred owls this year, along with voles, mice and chipmunks.

Rodenticides are not only cruel to these animals they target but cause negative chain reactions, poisoning raptors who prey on small mammals and reducing nesting habitat for bees. Emerging in spring to start new colonies, queen bumblebees often rely on the handiwork of mice, squirrels and other rodents, searching among abandoned rodent burrows for a place to call home.

Encouraging such wild real estate nurtures more life than a speciesist approach that fails to see the forest for the trees and the squirrels for the bees. Not long after I fumbled through a response to an audience member dismayed by the presence of ants in her garden, a northern flicker visited mine. A ground-foraging woodpecker with a particular fondness for ants, he found an abundant source in our yard, spearing the molehills under the leaves for a tasty dinner. The flicker illustrated the web of life much better than I had—and gave me all the answers I needed. The next time someone asks me about ants, I’ll know who to refer them to.

*Flicker video: Will Heinz. All photos by Nancy Lawson unless otherwise noted.