This is how I saw porcupines harvest apples: one autumn evening after dark, under a splendid bright moon, a friend of mine and I went into an orchard in which there were many apple trees, and hid behind a bush against the wind. All of a sudden the porcupines came out–five of them, two big ones and three small ones, and in Indian file moved towards the apples. They strolled about a bit first in the grass and then started working. Using their pretty little faces and legs, they rolled the apples the wind had shaken down into a small clearing and packed them close.
Porcupines sound like the complete package, although you wouldn’t necessarily want them to get so domesticated that they slept on your head on cold nights.
And Russian itinerants in Barcelona.
Sorry you lost your cat. I’ve heard this story about hedgehogs, I mean impaling apples. I think it’s a rural legend though.
Many of Gramsci’s other reminisciences are highly suspect – probably a sub-conscious means/end thing. Hairy Monster is still alive but has chosen to do business elsewhere, although not because of the apples.