About a week ago, I put our little rotting pumpkin out on the wooden table in our apartment walkway. I think I intended to take it eventually to the garbage, but it is hard to throw away something that was once so attractive and alive. It was a typical sunny Colorado day, and I had the front door wide open — so there was no problem hearing when my neighbor screamed my name, three times. I rushed to the door, and she said that there was a SQUIRREL ATTACKING MY PUMPKIN! And that he had looked at her with desires to kill.
I peeked out and saw a sweet little squirrel with pumpkin mush all over his whiskered cheeks, and his paws all full of orange goo. Indeed, there were seeds strewn around the concrete floor and bits of pumpkin thrown about in what I imagined was wild abandon. What a happy squirrel! But I looked at her again, and she had such an air of panic that I thought I had done something terribly wrong, against the code of the Village.
“Guess I have a mess to clean up!” I said. And she clicked and moved on.
I apologized the entire time I swept. If it were my own house, I would have left him to finish his feast. He looked at me from not so far away in a tree and I understood the look my neighbor thought he had given her.
Joseph promised we would find a pumpkin somewhere, specifically for the squirrel who couldn’t finish his feast.
Yesterday I came home in the afternoon to find… A squirrel had stolen the tiny navel-orange-sized pumpkin that was sitting on another neighbor’s sill, undisturbed for weeks.
Sometimes it’s just your moment. No one was around to stop him, and I took just a few photos so as not to derail him from his mission. This one he would finish!
Today it turned very cold, and snowed. Nice to know that our squirrel has some good calories to warm him in this sudden winter chill.