My neighbor gave me half a dozen gourds, which i put on the front step as seasonal decorations. Somebody's been eating my gourds--all of them. And they've taken a few bites out of my lone pumpkin too.
Sometimes, we are making offerings that we didn't expect to be making. Notice how the sense of "my" creeps in here. "My" gourds! Gone!
Who's to say they weren't the squirrel's gourds?