When I was growing up, my family would visit my great aunt and uncle at their cabin in northern Minnesota. My sister and I loved sleeping in the bunker-bed room, but their big black cat, Sasquatch, ruled the bottom bunk. She would sleep under the covers and hiss at us if we got too close. At bedtime, we were always a little afraid--was that lump under the covers my pajamas? Or was it Sasquatch?