It was 5:35 AM. Pamela came running upstairs to the bedroom to tell me that she found another Sasquatch hand print on the back of our car. This, after a Sasquatch trashed a group of trees next to our cabin door.
"David! Get up! We have a Sasquatch outside!"
So I groggily got up, put on pants, and teetered down the stairs. I slipped on sneakers and followed Pam outside.
Pam's mouth was agape.
"I saw him! He ducked down behind the trees!"
I didn't see him, but I knew I was getting pretty pissed off. What an unGodly hour.
So I took this pic of the hand print on the back of our car. It is very small. Smaller than Pam's hand, so it is a juvenile.
If you look closely, you can see the faint signs of coarse dermal ridges at the base of the palm. Not as clear as this adult print I took last year.
"David! Get up! We have a Sasquatch outside!"
So I groggily got up, put on pants, and teetered down the stairs. I slipped on sneakers and followed Pam outside.
Pam's mouth was agape.
"I saw him! He ducked down behind the trees!"
I didn't see him, but I knew I was getting pretty pissed off. What an unGodly hour.
So I took this pic of the hand print on the back of our car. It is very small. Smaller than Pam's hand, so it is a juvenile.
If you look closely, you can see the faint signs of coarse dermal ridges at the base of the palm. Not as clear as this adult print I took last year.
These damn Sasquatch kids need to stay off of my lawn.
No comments:
Post a Comment