Where are them nuts?

Our economy is in such poor shape that even the squirrels are experiencing a recession. For some mysterious reason, pockets of eastern states including northern Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania have experienced zero acorn production this season. While I can't explain the absence of acorns, the shortage is probably the reason behind why, over the course of three days, a medium sized pumpkin (that Ella had painted blue) placed outside our front door was completely disemboweled, leaving just a few remnants of seeds and limp stringy shreds strewn in a heap on our front steps.

It was an alarming sight. The claw marks on the pumpkin showed the sign of crazed desperation.

Who - or what - would eat a yucky blue pumpkin?

Suspect #1:
Ella aka Peter the Pumpkin Eater?

Ok, probably not.

Suspect #2:
Our cat had been a very bad kitty earlier this year, and my sister, fed up with having to deal with his pooping in inappropriate places, exiled him from the house to mostly fend for himself. For the past six months, he has been sleeping in a little enclosed cat bed on the outside porch where we also put his food and water. Over time leaving food outside has attracted other pests to compete with him for his "meaty bits gourmet grill" and I sometimes worry that he doesn't have enough to eat.

One day as I was inspecting our ravaged pumpkin, the cat came over to me and gave me an expectant look ("Is it meaty bits time?"). I eyed him suspiciously, bent down, stuck my finger out, and poked his nose.

"Have you been eating our pumpkin?" I asked accusingly.

"Meow?" ("What did I do now?")

Was he so hungry that he had spent the entire night gnawing away at this thing? It was possible, but I somehow didn't think so. He is too much of a food snob to go for an acrylic covered pumpkin.

My next thought was that it was the doing of a raccoon or possum, but it never occurred to me to suspect the innocent looking gray squirrels whose nimble acrobatics I sometimes watch from the window of the second floor bathroom.

I wish I had taken a picture of the pumpkin before its remnants were eventually thrown away, but below is what I imagine the culprit squirrel to have looked like after its hefty meal:

At least one squirrel won't starve this winter. I'm glad that I could be a good Samaritan to a neighborhood critter or two (or dozen) during this difficult time.