Who likes potatoes?

We toss sprouted and moldy Irish potatoes into cool corners of the compost bin, where in good time they produce potato flowers and eventually potatoes, which come true and tasty as replicas of the tubers originally bought at the South Congress farmers' market. We don't usually bother to retrieve the new potatoes, but last night somebody did. Atop a run of the hardware-cloth fence there was a very large potato, or about half of it. To what creature was this attractive, when all attention seems turned these days to tomatoes, cucumbers, and lantana berries?