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.
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So this will be the first time I come out about this story to anyone besides 2 friends, My cousin, Let’s call him Eric, outright refuses to speak of it at all. I don’t blame him. This incident happened about 2 years ago, during our stay at my Uncle’s house. And no, My cousin wasn’t his Son, he had a daughter who moved out long ago. His house was near Copper Harbor, about a 4 mile drive.
It was a pretty isolated house, two stories with about a 10 yard walk to the Treeline of the near Woods. Like any other concerned parental figure he prompted me, and my cousin not to go out at night, and if we were out to be in the house before dark. We could understand his worry, but we weren’t some fragile children. Or so we thought. To give some background, at the time I was nearly 20, Eric turned 21 the month before I remember.
Now I was only to stay there for winter break, so I had about two weeks to spend with my Family I hardly see, considering I live in the freaking blazing hot deserts of Nevada. The first week there was honestly boring, we sat around doing nothing but watching TV, playing games or getting drunk. My cousin proposes we go hunting for the first time in forever, asking if I still had it in me to kill, which I agreed arrogantly to. I have a bit of an Ego when it comes to things like hunting, I’d say i’m a pretty good tracker as well, however we’d only be hunting something smaller at my Uncle’s behest, like Pheasants, or a Hare. Reluctantly I still agreed to go with Eric, though I never truly cared for the taste of Rabbit haunches.
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