Imagine, if you will, an animal like a polar bear. Now reduce it to a height of three or four feet, and colour its pelt a dirty shade of pinky-beige. And let it move silently about the landscape at dusk or after dark, sometimes upright and sometimes on all fours, visible from a great distance in the monochrome moonlight of the infrared, pale against the pale fields, dark against the woods.
They tend to move slowly and travel alone, occupying the spaces outside our fences and settlements, and if you go abroad at night, one may creep up on you from behind. They are not necessarily harmful, but they certainly make you feel nervous, and stories have been told ... Present or not (and they may be, or may not; you won't know until it is too late), they make you look over your shoulder constantly, and quicken your pace until you find safe haven behind a wooden door or within a sturdy garden gate.
These creatures have populated my dreams tonight. It's not the first time, although it might of course be part of the dream - that I have had the dream before. Who knows?