Last night my husband & I were out on our back porch, stargazing. It was late (around midnight), and dark. After viewing through the binoculars and telescope for a while, we decided to relax for a few minutes before turning in. We’re sitting there quietly, when we hear this rustling noise coming from the other side of the yard, maybe 60-70 ft away. The first time we heard it, neither of us said anything, but after the 2nd or 3rd time, my husband asked, “Do you hear that?” I said, “Yes.” But it was hard to make out what it could be. We keep a box fan in the room right above the porch, and the whirring noise of the motor was drowning out the sound. Another rustle. Then another. My husband announced he was going in to get the flashlight. “But what if it’s a Yeti?” I joked. He went inside. The rustling noises continued. Sitting there in the dark, alone, I was getting a bit nervous. I started thinking about Big Foot. You know, I don’t think they’ve ever truly discounted his existence completely.. What if…? I counted the seconds. John seemed to be taking his sweet time. That big flashlight was just in the adjacent room, what could be taking him so long? I heard the fan switch off above me. What the hell-? HE’S UPSTAIRS?! Another few minutes ticked by. I was starting to sweat, wondering whether I’d be carted off by the time he got back. The rustling noises had increased slightly in intensity and volume, perhaps b/c the fan was off – or maybe b/c Big Foot was getting hungrier. And Closer. FINALLY. John stepped back out onto the porch. I breathed an audible sigh of relief and said, “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?” He explained he had to go to the bathroom. I told him I could have been eaten by the Yeti, which at that point was nearly visible across the yard (in my mind, anyway). He laughed and sat down beside me. Very quietly we counted 1,2,3, then ON with the flashlight. Light blazed across the yard, illuminating the guinea pigs’ pen, and one extremely determined red fox perched right on top! The fox stopped pawing the lid and looked up, as if to say. “Excuse me?” We stared at each other for several seconds, before John stood up to make chase. The fox took off, hesitantly, and we went to check on our poor pets. They were all fine. Fortunately the handmade pen is super sturdy and has a thick, wire lid for exactly this purpose (to thwart would-be predators). I petted the piggies, and then worried out loud about the fox coming back. My husband reassured me, “Oh, I’m sure he will, babe. He’s probably here every night.”
Big Foot? That You?
