April Wamhoff

A strange thing happened in my garden a couple of nights ago. Now you should understand my garden is 32 five-gallon buckets of various kinds of vegetables and a few smaller containers of green beans. There are 4x4 timbers and a rather makeshift fence around the whole thing to protect it from pilferers of the four-legged kind. Not too extravagant, but on the island it works. But here’s the thing, one of the five-gallon buckets of cucumbers was moved overnight. All the way over the 4x4 and still standing in an upright position inside the fence. After careful investigation and deductive reasoning, I am absolutely certain it might have been Sasquatch.
Now five-gallon buckets filled with dirt are not light. That leaves out many of my four-legged neighbors as suspects. The rabbits or the squirrels would have had motive and opportunity, but even if they got together and formed a union with a qualified supervisor, I doubt they could handle the bucket. Nope, not the rabbits or the squirrels. And even though I’ve had other run-in’s with beaver, and they are admittedly larger and very smart, I also eliminated them as suspects. Still not big enough.
Emily and Ernie, the resident garter snakes don’t have arms, let alone thumbs. They like to hang out in the garden but I don’t think they would even want the cukes. No motive. That would go for Trevor the toad. Also, no motive.
The deer, of course, would have motive and are the reason for the fence in the first place. They are bigger but I still have reservations about them. It’s the opposable thumb thing. I know they are crafty with their mouths and such but it seems unlikely they could accomplish that with no damage to the fence. I ruled out the deer.
That turned my eye of suspicion to a bear. They are big enough and are very skilled with their paws. I think at times they would like my garden, but now? There are so many delicious berries ripening in the woods, why bother? Also, no damage to the fence. I don’t think bear operate that way.
That’s when my attention turned to Sasquatch. He’s rumored to be big, with big arms and opposable thumbs. He’s so big he could probably reach over the fence and move the bucket. Though there doesn’t seem to me much reliable research on the diet of Sasquatch, I think he would like my garden produce.
Maybe he would even share it with the other, less skilled neighbors. And in truth, I would share with him and them, but they get wasteful and messy. Then I thought of other consequences of feeding Sasquatch. Like, what if it’s a She-squatch and has babies? Or toddlers? Or teenagers? Or any kind of extended family? What if they would expect me to support them all the time. Oh, dear! What if Sasquatch decides to go public and reveal his location? He’s already famous, you know. I suppose I could charge him some kind of rent or royalties or something, but my island would probably be overrun with celebrities. That doesn’t sound good either.
So, after considering all of the possible consequences, I have decided not to alert the authorities or press charges of any kind, even if the perp is caught. I’m just gonna share on their terms. It seems like the plan that will get me in the least amount of trouble. After all, I’m certain it might be Sasquatch.