I don’t remember exactly when I first noticed the pumpkins on my back porch; it was probably a few days prior to Halloween. I still am not sure how they got there; I would guess that my neighbor bought them in a sudden festive fit only to realize he had no place else to put them. They were pleasant enough pumpkins and they weren’t in my way, so I soon forgot about them.
On the Friday before Halloween I walked out my back door a stepped into a large puddle of pumpkin goop. It looked as though my neighbor attempted to carve one of the pumpkins but forgot to cut its top off and remove the pulp. I laughed, shook my head and headed off to work.
The following morning, the pumpkins were butchered even more and pumpkin guts were strewn across the entire stoop. I realized that my neighbor probably wasn’t responsible for this mess; some kid probably came over and smashed one of the pumpkins.
I came back home around mid-afternoon and I caught the pumpkin murdering culprits mid crime. On my stoop, munching on pumpkin, sat two of the largest squirrels I had ever seen. When I approached the stoop one of them bounded off, terrified. The other remained perched, munching on pumpkin, entirely unintimidated.
When I was within arms length of the critter it began squeaking at me, sound bizarrely like flipper. So I did what any sane person would do, I crouched close to the ground, grabbed a handful of pumpkin guts and began cooing to it. I’ll be damned if the bugger didn’t walk up to me, sniff my hand and greedily eat my pumpkin as I stroked its head with my thumb.
Obviously, ever since that day I have been pondering using my bond with that giant squirrel to amass a squirrel army and conquer the universe…
