My experiences with the dogmen of Michigan has been very interesting. The first encounter I had with these curious and strange beings was very calm and serene. It felt as though I knew I was in no danger and everything was okay. My second encounter was harshly different, and it left me with a feeling of dread and worry. Both encounters took place within two weeks of each other, at night, same rough area, and while snow was on the ground. I’ll begin with the first encounter.
Though I’ve had to move closer to Detroit for a better job and education, I still frequently go out into the country to visit Gramma. She and my late Papa took me in when I was a teenager and raised me up right. Since she stays up late, I frequently go over later in the night and smoke with her a while before going to bed and spending the night. My first encounter took place in the second week of December of 2017 on one of these such nights.
I had left the small town of Emmett and was passing by the old country market on the corner of the crossroads of the paved road and the dirt road that my grandma lives on. It was a rare occasion when I hadn’t turned my radio on at all, and I was mainly just contemplating where my life was going.
My dad passed away in early June of this year, and I had found myself in an overpriced apartment with our remaining family dog and my new cat. It was a big change, and I was finding myself thinking over all the things that could have been and would never be now. The slow driving speeds I was limited to gave me plenty of time to ponder over life, and it also let me feel a distinct change in the scenery.
Up ahead, the tree tops seemed to move far less. Sure the forest would block a lot of wind from moving bushes and dead cat tails, but the treetops usually moved freely. The only reason I even noticed that they quit moving was because my eyes were drawn to the bright moon acting as a sentinel to all night travelers. On the other side of the road, the tree tops were swaying and bending to the wind’s whims, but not on the right side next to Gramma’s house. It struck me as odd, but it didn’t scare me.
Deciding to check out what might be going on in the woods, I slowed to a stop in front of the woods that divided Gramma’s property from her neighbor’s property. At first my eyes noticed nothing as they adjusted, but, once adjusted, they focused in on something. It was dark browns and blacks with touches of white on its underbelly and face, as well as its tail.
On all fours, it looked like a massive husky or malamute of some sort. I was genuinely concerned that someone had lost their pet, so I began to grab a slim jim I had bought and some cheese crackers. The thought that the fluffy dog would be mean never crossed my mind since my gut told me it was safe. I’ve found lost dogs in these woods before and had managed to get them to come with me at night, so this was nothing new.
Cracking open my car door slowly, I stepped out into the frigid air and began to approach the edge of the woods. Without the dark tinted windows limiting my sight, I could tell the large dog was staring at me. It had the most human-like blue eyes that were deep and emotional. All the regret and sadness I felt from overthinking life on my car ride began to wash away from my mind. My mind was releasing the negativity because this beautiful creature’s stare seemed to tell me that everything was okay.
I’m not sure how long I stood out there gazing into the blue eyes, but I was almost shocked out of my daze when it stood up on its hind legs and began to sprint away. It was such long strides that I knew I couldn’t have kept with it if I tried, and it seemed to just disappear. Due to the clear moon, I should’ve been able to keep track of it better. But it seemed to just wisp away with the wind that now began to rock the tree tops once more.
I stood outside my car, leaning on the passenger side for several more minutes. Curiosity was coursing through my veins, and my need for answers held me to my spot. I wanted to see if I could see the gentle and wonderful creature once more. Once my nose began to go numb, I forced myself back into my car and drove the twenty feet to my grandma’s driveway.
Once in the house, I asked Gramma if she had seen anything. She hadn’t. Her dogs were on edge though, and they were looking out the windows in her bedroom towards the woods where I had my encounter. They weren’t angry, they didn’t have any fur standing; they just looked out the window attentively as though they weren’t sure how to feel about whatever they saw.
After seating myself at the table near Gramma to smoke, I told her of my sighting of the weird giant dog that walked on two legs. She had never seen anything like it, but she did believe me. I was told that I was crazy for ever leaving my car for a giant dog. No matter if my gut told me it was safe or not, my grandma didn’t trust any stray dogs. We dropped the matter after I was scolded and continued to smoke cigarettes while we chitchatted.
The second encounter was like the reverse of a coin. It left me unnerved at my core. Once again, it happened within a mile of my grandma’s house. This time it was coming from the back way home from Yale. It was just before the turn on my grandma’s road. Snow was coming down fast, and the wind was picking up the tiny flakes and gusting them so you couldn’t see ten feet in front of your car.
Which is why severe alarm bells went off in my head when there was suddenly no snow gusting up and fogging my vision near the turn. I slowed down, and, just as I did, one of the upright giant husky looking things took two strides across the street and paused near a street sign. It was at least three feet above the top of the sign, and it had molten malice in its yellow-amber eyes.
Our gaze locked, and I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my chest. I had to get out of there. Whatever this one was, it was not safe. It was dark black with grey touches on its face and mane, and it was definitely not happy to see me watching it traversing the snow covered landscape. The predatory look it gave as it turned so its body faced my tiny 01 Dodge Neon was enough to get me moving out of the area as quick as the snow allowed.
When I arrived at Gramma’s five minutes later, she greeted me with a “Merry Christmas Eve!” Once seeing my face, she began to question what happened and I told her. I still felt like if I turned around there may be that thing from the woods. The anxiety didn’t leave me for a couple hours as we sat and smoked cigarettes.
On Christmas day when I woke up, I did a quick google search to see if I could find any information about what I might have seen. No escaped circus wolves, which I figured was an impossibility but at least it’d be earthly. I researched the local wildlife quite a bit until I couldn’t stand to look at any sort of text anymore.
Instead, I decided to draw and listen to this channel like I usually do. I happened to choose the video that spoke of the Dogman blindly. I tend to just click the first horror story my YouTube offers me from here, so I didn’t bother to really read what it was. After hearing the intro I got goosebumps and decided to research a bit more.
Apparently there have been recent sightings of Dogmen in Saint Clair County, Michigan. I happened to be in that very same county. I’m not sure how to feel about everything I’m beginning to learn, but I know I’ll be taking a more spiritual approach to my research.
The ethereal quality of my experience seems to be too bold for me to ignore. Having Cherokee blood and strong ties to the spirit world in my day to day life, I believe these are some sort of spiritual beings. I think I saw them due to the strong emotions that I am currently going through. While I hope to never see the predatory amber eyed one again, I am open to another experience with the dogmen.