A sinuous arm creeps along beneath the water, its muscles rippling as it reaches forth. Another arm darts in the opposite direction as pale, fleshy discs writhe along on its underside, trying to detangle a web of nearby scents. Controlled by groups of neurons communicating with its central brain, each sucker-covered underarm smells, tastes, and moves independently. Yet another tendril of color-changing muscle lurches forward with surprising force, lured by the aroma of shrimp and crab…and an unfamiliar smell.
Something out of place.
Something a human might describe as “earthy” or “autumnal.”
To a giant Pacific octopus (GPO), a pumpkin is as alien as a UFO. However, this unidentified floating object doesn’t deter Bunsen. As she gracefully descends upon the squash, the thin webbed skin between her arms stretches and billows, her 17-pound body expanding to engulf the gourd like a weighted blanket. In an instant, her skin changes from red to mottled white. Arms straining but holding tight, she tries to drag the pumpkin to her den. Lacking a skeleton, octopuses can squeeze into tight spaces without issue. The pumpkin is a different matter.
While the narrow den opening is easy passage for Bunsen’s boneless bulk, the pumpkin can’t follow her into the narrow, rocky nook. Realizing this, she braces against the rocks and gets to work right there. Her eyes peer over the top of the pumpkin as her eight arms feel their way along a neat series of grooves and holes on the front; it’s an intricate carving of an octopus, complete with shrimp eyes.
She eats those first.
A hole at the top of the pumpkin would have given her immediate access to the seafood tucked inside, but Bunsen prefers a challenge. She picks at the design, prying away bits of thick gourd until the entire front lifts up like an access hatch. Using one pair of arms to hold it open, she quickly shuffles in but takes her time with her shellfish prize. As she eats, Bunsen stretches out an arm to deter a fast-encroaching sea star drawn to the scent of crab.
Once her meal is over, she readjusts her hold on the pumpkin, and a soft black weight slips out. Without its anchor, the pumpkin ascends back to the surface, freed from Bunsen’s iron grip. Despite her best efforts, she can’t latch on to re-submerge the gourd and, instead, retreats to her den, watching with oblong pupils as the pumpkin bobs at the surface.
“Okay, I’ll fix it for you,” an amused voice says from the dry side of the acrylic wall. Aquarist Abby Brunner walks away, returning moments later with a long pole. Brunner dips it down into the water and grabs the soft weight in a smooth, practiced motion. She drops it into the pumpkin and then places the weighted gourd back into the water near Bunsen’s den — where it will stay until the following day, giving her plenty of time to investigate it further.
A GPO may not typically cross paths with a pumpkin, but special sessions like these activate Bunsen’s curiosity and encourage natural behaviors. As Bunsen’s primary caretaker, Brunner ensures the octopus has daily opportunities to exercise her body and nine (yes, nine!) brains. Bunsen’s enrichment involves puzzle boxes, unique items, and plenty of variety.
While Bunsen tore apart her carefully carved pumpkin, Brunner considers it a compliment.
“That predatory ballooning, the way she engulfed the pumpkin, was so cool” she says, gesturing to Bunsen. “It’s incredible that we get to see those classic octopus behaviors up close. You could really see her wheels spinning.”
