Mike and Myron's Meetup

Step by step, the creature and Mike made their way toward each other. Mike caught a faint scent of the creature and turned to Myron.

“The smell is less than when we first crossed paths. I wonder if the snow lessens it, or is it its diet?”

Myron stared at his friend, sure now that he was certifiably crazy. Who approaches a nine-foot shaggy unknown creature holding a partially eaten wild turkey? In snowshoes!

Badger was calm, the leash hooked to his chest, easier to control him. The dog showed no signs of fear or wanting to attack. Suddenly, Badger stood and caught the turkey leg in his jaws.

“Did that thing really just throw a leg to Badger?” Myron was incredulous. Mike was grinning.

“I told ya, didn’t I? He means no harm; he’s sharing his food.”

“Mike, you are the craziest sonofabitch. Why do you say ‘he’?”

“Do you see breasts or anything looking female? Nope, he has some manly parts down there.”

Big Foot turned and bent over, then turned around and grinned.

“He understands English? What the hell! I must be dreaming!” Myron’s mouth was agape.

**

She walked out of the woods past Big Foot, in winter gear.

“Felicity, nice to meet you.” The men stared. She motioned to the creature. “He’s friendly.”

“You are studying him?”

“Yes, my college thesis. Dad told me about him when I was little. It’s my life’s work. I taught him some sign language. Took me years to connect.