The Story Beneath The Story

People call me Bigfoot and other names and say that I smell horribly. They are afraid of me because I’m not human and have fur. I live where few people do, and the scent I give off is from my rich diet. We live in the wilderness, hiding from humans, and smell like the earth and trees. We rub the raw elk onto our fur and sometimes have nests with carcasses and excrement. Humans don’t find traces of our bodies because, when near death, our fur sheds and eagles take it away. We only die in the spring when wolf and bear cubs are emerging, and our bodies feed their young, while their parents consume our bones. There aren’t many of us left. We think humans stink, and we know when they are near. Human females smell better than males, but sometimes their acrid odor makes me sneeze; it seems to happen once every moon.

My mountains are rugged and tall, turning white only when it's cold. Some years ago, one of the mountains exploded, and my mother was lost. She had been making her way around the lake while I waited in the northern woods. When the mountain erupted, trees flew through the air and crashed to the ground. Mudslides ran through the forest, covered the lake edges, and the lake disappeared under deep mud and logs. I howled for days. When my mother didn’t return, I knew she was buried beneath the mud.

After the disaster, crowds of people arrived to see the destruction, and workers in green shirts and white trucks appeared everywhere. With their arrival, I learned to become much more discreet and careful. I have many ways to hide, and I hunt for food only at night. Still, sometimes I must travel far to find enough to eat. During one of my distant hunts, I discovered a human female living in a nearby cabin. I watched her in secret from high in a tree. Climbing tall trees is easy for me; I can leap up to the lowest branch, which is four times higher than a tall human. Through her window, I saw her cooking and eating. Her food smelled pleasant, but I prefer raw elk and rabbit. I also enjoy nettles and huckleberries.

Once, while I was drinking at the river, she surprised me, and I ran away. She tried to keep up, but her short legs couldn't catch me. I leaped the river, and when she tried to boulder jump across, the river swept her away. I ran to outpace the river's current, then, as the river curved, I reached in and pulled her to shore. She shivered from the icy water, and I held her close to my chest, warming her, as I carried her back to her cabin. I set her onto her porch and went back into the woods.

Later, at sunset, I returned and found her sitting at the base of a tree, talking quietly to herself. I accidentally stepped on a branch, giving away my presence. She stood and followed me, speaking softly. Feeling lonely and missing my mother , I stopped and let her come close. “Thank you. Thank you for rescuing me and taking me home. You warmed me. Thank you.” She touched my finger, and I smiled down at her.

Her name is Felicity, and she has become my friend and teacher. Felicity showed me pictures of creatures like me—some with white fur—and taught me sign language. One day, she played a movie with creatures like me running. The brown creature was near a river that seemed familiar, while the white ones lived in steep, snowy mountains. Those white ones fascinate me, since I spend half the year in snow, but I am brown, not white.

“Big Friendly, look! They call the brown one Big Foot or Sasquatch, and other names. The white one is called Yeti.” Felicity signed Big Foot and Yeti to me and had me practice that, along with the name she gave me, Big Friendly.

Time passed, and I grew uneasy when I saw two men near her cabin. With them was a foul-smelling furry animal. When the beast charged me for the first time, I kicked it, sending it flying. It yelped when it landed but quickly got up, unhurt. Right after, one of the men held out food toward me and kept the furry creature on a short rope, so it couldn't charge again.

I was eating a wild turkey, and tore off a leg which I tossed it to the animal. It caught the leg in its jaws. I grinned and waved, pleased to share my meal. Then, following my tribe’s custom, I bent over to display my male genitalia as a greeting.

The men were talking to each other when Felicity came from the woods. They told her their names. She replied with hers and said, “Yes, he understands English. He was giving you his tribe’s greeting and showing you that, indeed, he is a male. Big Friendly, this is Mike and Myron,” she said, grabbing my hand, and signing. “The furry one is a dog named Badger. It's okay, they are nice, like you, so relax. I’m here and nothing bad will happen." I was unsure because the one man had a long fire stick on his shoulder. Men had used that before when I was around, but I escaped them.

I watched Felicity, who was speaking quietly to the one without the fire stick. Then all three laughed, and the dog howled happily like a wolf. I moved toward them. The dog panted, smelling me, then licked the fur on my hand. I liked the feeling. The men were much taller than Felicity, but they still had to tilt their heads back to meet my eyes. Badger stood still, whining and wagging his tail, sending me the vibe that he wanted to play. I mentally told him I would as soon as the rope was off. I noticed the men wrinkle their noses before coughing loudly and covering their mouths. Felicity held my hand, and I signed, “Please take the rope off Badger. I promise not to kick him.”

Felicity’s eyes were huge as she interpreted. “He said he wants you to take the rope off Badger so they can play. He won’t kick him.”

The mouth of the man with the fire stick fell open when Felicity spoke. Slowly, he unhooked Badger.

Badger crouched down in play mode, and the people watched Big Friendly squat, make a snowball, and throw it into the air. Badger leaped up, catching it, and off they ran into the woods.

Myron whistled for Badger, who stopped and turned, Big Friendly beside him, signing to Felicity. “He says they are playing. He will not hurt Badger. It’s okay, he never lies, and he can be very gentle.” Myron gave the signal for Badger to go, and Felicity showed them the way to her cabin.

Copyright © 3/11/2026 by Andrea O. Corwin

I am grateful you read my work! 😃 If you liked it, please like it ♡, drop a comment, and subscribe for free. - - Andi

I believe! I did some micro stories about Big Friendly in the past and updated them to tell you more about Big Friendly. I hope it dispels some of the Big Foot myths for you!