You would think that seven hundred pounds of furry primate would be easy to spot in someone’s back yard. You’d think that if you were the sort of person who tamed his backyard. I’m not that sort of person. Were it not for the lease agreement I’d probably never cut the lawn or trim the bushes or cut weeds. All the ground surrounding this place would vanish under the lush vegetation that the Pacific Northwest rainfall encourages. My front porch would be accessible only to those equipped with a machete. My back door would be barely visible beyond the long grass. Mothers would attach leases to their children before they let them outdoors to play in the greenery. One could hide lions, tigers and bears in that jungle. A sasquatch would feel right at home.
At least I would guess a sasquatch would feel at home. This morning Skook seems to have no problem with the yard just as it is.
The back yard isn’t fenced in. It’s bounded by a chain link fence in the north (Cranky Old Lady Neighbor’s kingdom over there), the back alley in the east (Seattle is honeycombed with alleys), garage in the south and the house at the west. The grass is low despite winter rain and warm temperate. And curled up next to one of the bushes on the north side is Skook.
I wouldn’t have thought to look for him. He doesn’t always come home. When I got up at nine-a.m.ish I noticed that he wasn’t on his futon. It didn’t appear to have been rolled out. I made myself some coffee (i.e. poured yesterday’s cold leftovers in a glass, tossed in some sugar and stirred) and puttered around the house. Mainly I tried to clear up my breathing passages. I’ve been fighting a cold for the last few days. I’m at the tail end of it but my body is still zealously producing snot. Takes about a half an hour to get it coughed and sneezed and blown out enough for me to feel healthy. Noticing that the kitchen garbage was full and feeling like I ought to contribute something to the upkeep of the house and since the sun was out anyway I stuck my boots on and took the bag outside.
It was on my way back from the trash barrel that it occurred to me that the back yard had acquired an extra compost pile, or something, by that bush. No. Sasquatch. He’s curled up so that head, hands and feet can’t be seen unless you’re standing right over him. The grass is still tall enough that, from the alley or next door, you really wouldn’t be able to tell how damned big he is. If you even noticed him at all you’d think he was some big brown shaggy dog sleeping in the sun. And since most folks don’t want to get the attention of a big dog, especially if there were no fence between them and it (as would be the case with for alley walkers), they’d refrain from disturbing the critter.
If it starts to rain he’ll probably come inside. I’m hoping the sun will stay dominant until it’s time for it to set. This afternoon I’m helping Jaydogg and DoubleM move some furniture out of M’s ex’s apartment. I’ve done enough moving in the rain to be happy to never do it again.
Of course, if this sunny weather keeps up, tomorrow I’m going to feel compelled to test out our new lawn mower on the winter growth. Fortunately the ground by that bush is grooved and lumpy as the result of a year’s old attempt at gardening. Lawn mowers don’t work too well there. That part of the jungle should endure.