Squirrels are Pumpkin-Spice B*tches, too.

And now: Why the heck are squirrels eating everyone’s pumpkins this year?

That isn’t my Kevin (see below). But it could be. For those as yet unfamiliar, Kevin (full name, F*&KING KEVIN) is the name I use for the Eastern Gray Squirrels that live in my yard, and apparently view my garden as an all-you-can-eat buffet. In fast, as I write this, two Kevins (the name is gender neutral) just raced across the yard in a shower of leaves. (For more about Kevin, please check out my book on animals we hate. Kevin gets his own chapter).

My Kevins usually go hard for my tomatoes, leading me this year to finally break and construct a full galvanized steel cage around my raised bed (got a full tomato harvest, pumpkins, gourds, and a pile of tomatillos. Suck it, Kevin). Usually, my autumn pumpkins, the ones every suburban family puts out in a vague show of Harvest Vibes, have been immune.

I love fall. Love it. I’m that basic white lady. Put the nutmeg in my veins, the PSL in my hand, and the flannel on my back. I especially love seeing pumpkins out. Every fall for the past few years we’ve met up with a pair of our friends and spent a day at a fall festival, reconnecting and building happy memories with their fantastic kids.* We come home toting apples or pumpkins, and every year I see them and smile and remember the lovely time we had.

But not this year. This year I came home the first day after putting out my pumpkins to find some very familiar tooth marks, tooth marks that have previously graced my tomatoes and zucchini.

Kevin.

I prepped my defenses. A combination of ground red pepper and Vaseline is a good deterrent, but both messy and potentially disfiguring. Instead, I grabbed my hairspray. I liberally doused my pumpkins, and for a glorious three weeks my pumpkins went un-gnawed.

Sunday night, however, it rained.

The next morning, a large hole appeared in our main pumpkin, and the side pumpkins developed gouges.

I also realized that I wasn’t alone. I began to see gnawed squash all over the neighborhood, and friends across the country were complaining. Why, they asked, were squirrels after their pumpkins this year? It had never happened before!

And it’s true! Pumpkins, to be clear, are attractive food to pretty much any mammal. Sweet, tasty flesh, good seeds. As you can learn from any good Zoo animal cam, beavers, elephants, bats, and more will play around with pumpkins and eat them with zest. Even polar bears (usually carnivores) won’t turn down a pumpkin.

In fall, squirrels, like many mammals, start bulking up for the winter months (they don’t hibernate, but they do breed in winter, and need the extra energy to keep warm, feed hungry young, and more). Pumpkins are fine eating. Often, the hard rind of a pumpkin on a porch is enough to deter most squirrels for a bit, and with a big mast year, they might have good distractions. But pumpkins will always be on the menu.

Squirrels been on your pumpkins? Share.

We’ve been putting out delicious food on our front porches and leaving it there for weeks. One wonders why we are even surprised.** And this year, squirrels apparently decided they loved fall as much as any white lady with a PSL.

What happened?

This happened:

As you can see, we are in a drought. It’s been an exceptionally dry fall across most of the continental United States. And that means most neighborhoods are dry. Bird baths are dry, random buckets left out are dry, gutters are dry.

And what do pumpkins have? Moisture. Quite a bit of it. That’s what the squirrels are after right now. It rained once, sure, but it’s not nearly enough. These guys are dehydrated, and willing to face human wrath and partially-washed-off hairspray in the hope of some moisture.

So if you’re trying to keep squirrels off your pumpkins, you can try hairspray. You can try red pepper and Vaseline. A spray of hot sauce in water can be effective, as well as strong peppermint oil.

But you could ALSO try filling the bird bath, and giving your squirrels a drink.

Finally, Monday evening, we got home to full on pumpkin destruction. Seeds littered the stairs and stems were scattered. One small pumpkin had been transported halfway around the house. We declared defeat, and I grabbed the remains of my other two pumpkins, and prepared to toss them in the compost.

I hesitated. And then, I tossed them in the yard, and yelled “come and get it!”

In a way, I figured, they’d earned it.

References:

• Popular Science: How to squirrel-proof your pumpkins

Corrections, November 3

Just a note that I made some errors in my hat post which my sources kindly pointed out! Bermet Nishanova’s name was misspelled in the acknowledgements, my apologies. Boris Liebrenz also told me his affiliation is the Saxon Academy in Leipzig, not the University of Leipzig, and he was NOT in Turkey when we emailed, that’s my mistake. The hat he was studying was Fatimid, not Seljuk (the hat was BELIEVED to be Seljuk, he proved it was not). You can read more about it here. My apologies. I don’t have an editor here, and while this means the turnarounds are speedy…errors do creepy in because I’m a human being.

Where have you been?

• Is it reading about how no one tells you about how your body just decides to up and break after 40? I’m in this op-ed (not literally) and I don’t like it.

• Maybe it’s reading this excellent piece about feral pigs in Hawaii? I’m mostly jealous I didn’t get to write it myself!

• Maybe it’s reading about how Oriental hornets can drink piles of alcohol….and be TOTALLY FINE. They drink honeybees under the table. Hornets: The frat boys of the bug world. All violence, no chill.

• Or maybe it’s reading about how African Giant Pouched Rats, previously known for sniffing landmines, are now being used to search out illegal smuggled goods—like the remains of poached, endangered animals.

Where have I been?

The thing about being a writer is that I’m writing pretty much constantly…but many of the pieces take a long time, and so suddenly they all come out at once. Like this week when I somehow had five big things come to fruition.

• My Prevention story is live! Please do check it out, and send it to people in your life who might need it. It’s not just about why we need weight-neutral healthcare, but how to advocate for yourself when you need it.

• My latest op-ed for Scientific American is out, about cowlicks! Yes! Did you know that most people’s hair swirls clockwise? Did you know scientists stared at babies’ heads to study it? They did.

• I also worked with my great colleague Doug Main on a piece for the Society for Environmental Journalists on how to make uncharismatic species…a little more appealing for the masses. Not everyone is as lucky to be as cute as a squirrel, after all.

• I appeared on the Modern Musicology podcast to talk about the science of music! It was a fun time with a fun crew!

• And of course we had Halloween, and I wrote a piece for Science News Explores about werewolves, and why they might actually want to rethink when they transform…if they’re not the top of the pack.

• I also wrote an op-ed for Slate about the new Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE. Because of course), and why science actually NEEDS to be efficient. And to sometimes sound ridiculous.

• Finally, freelancers have a lot of different jobs. One of mine? I’m a podcast producer, and I popped on one of the shows I work on to talk to the National President of the National Organization for Women about…well about what just happened. She’s got things to say I think we all need to hear.

Anti-Discourse Actions

Well. We all know what happened. The Discourse is working overtime. I am sad. I am afraid. I am so, so angry. But I don’t have Discourse. I only have actions.

• I’ve gotten more involved in some volunteer work I’ve been doing, work that will become more necessary in the years to come.

• I’ve been lending an ear, offering friends help. That’s work too.

• And my family is heading down to Western NC this year, as we always do, for Thanksgiving. The house made it pretty unscathed through Helene (though the water is an adventure), and the area makes a lot of its living through visitors. They WANT us there. So we’re going, and my family and I are setting up to spend a few days volunteering to sort donations, make up food boxes, and so on.

*To be fair, all of my friends have certified Fantastic Kids. They couldn’t produce Unfantastic kids if they tried. Of course, all kids are Fantastic, fundamentally. But my friends’ kids are especially so. I have unabashed bias in this matter.

**We are always surprised. We leave out bird seed and wonder why squirrels like it, we leave out pet food and get mad when we see bears. I begin to question whether we’re the smartest species after all.