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Finding Sasquatch

Ever since I moved to the Pacific Northwest I've heard tell tales of Bigfoot: "Big as a house and twice as mean," say some. "Gentle giant," claim others. And the inevitable, "I done bore Bigfoot's twins!"

Well let me tell you folks, I've seen her feller and gosh darned if you mightn't mistake him for Bigfoot at first glance.

So anyways, I was working from home one afternoon, just sittin' on the couch and countin' the minutes 'til I could punch out, dontcha know, when what should I see out my window? Sasquatch urinating on my lawn.

"Well slap my tush and call me Martha," I says to myself.

By the by, I knew it weren't the missus fiddlin' in the yard cuz she was sittin' right beside me. The missus just so happened to also be countin' the minutes 'til I could punch out, too, so's I could start makin' The Meatloaf.

Now now, hold 'er right there, folks, that's not a euphemism, I make the best meat loaf in the county. Heck, I won first prize at the county fair three years runnin' and let me tell ya, it woulda been four 'cept that darn Elmer Ostlburg done gone bribed the judge with a coupon book of free movie passes.

Speakin' of the missus, I looked over at her real quick-like to see if she seen what I saw, but she was engrossed in one of her talkin' books - somethin' 'bout some murder mystery or other, I s'pose. She loves her some Agatha Christie.

So I break out the phone, shot the video above and bolted to the door so's I could take a looksee, but when I got outside there was nuthin there 'cept a rather pungent odor of mossy earthy smell. I've darn near busted my brains tryin' to come up with a better description, but it's the only way I know to describe it.

Besides, every time I try to think back too hard on that smell, my eyes start waterin' somethin' fierce.

I still woulda left it at a prank by someone, maybe even that connvin' Elmer Ostlburg tryin' to pay me back for making him eat his lunch three years runnin', but when I went to go water the yard this mornin' the grass grown thirteen inches. Thirteen! I even went and got the missus' fancy tailor sewin' tape measure and everything just to make sure - and didn't she kick up a fuss about that - and sure enough: thirteen inches.

The missus is a might perplexed by it all and thinks I'm pullin' her leg, and that's fair enough, but I know the truth: Bigfoot peed in my yard and made the grass grow. Bigfoot is real, and I'm gonna find it.

caveat lector