Beastly Neighbor

I was back where it all started, my childhood home in Michigan. The house was passed onto me after the death of my mother. I was preparing it for sale because I had no reason to keep it. I lived in Tampa and wanted nothing to do with the old house and country living. I was looking at a six-figure payday, according to my childhood friend, and now realtor, Randy.

One night on the deck grilling steaks, under stars shining like a million flashlights, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two large circular sources of light, out in the back forty. They looked like eyes and were about four feet off the ground and didn’t move. I figured it was a deer watching me grilling and could smell the food. I put the cover over the grill, then my attention back to the circular eyes. Then the eyes raised up about four feet, to about eight feet off the ground. Deer don’t stand up like that, especially in open space. The eyes paced back and forth, like a boxer before the start of the first round. I went inside to turn on the deck lights to illuminate the backyard. The eyes got dimmer then disappeared into the darkness.

The next night I was dragging the trash bin out to the road to be picked up. Walking back, I looked out towards the field where I saw those eyes. Nothing but quiet darkness. Just as I put a foot on the step to the deck, I could hear branches getting snapped over by this tree line about hundred yards away from the house. Then a deep guttural noise came from the same area. I grabbed my flashlight and pointed in that direction. Another pair of large glowing eyes looking right at me, but the rest was hidden by the trees. The growling sounded like pure evil. I quickly went inside, locked the door, and pulled out my handgun just in case.

The next morning, I was over by the tree line where I heard the noises. Randy joined me to talk about the house.

“How ya doing?” Randy asked.

“Ready to get the hell outta here.”

“Why I’m here. I got some bad news. My roof guy told me you’re gonna need some work done.”

“What?”

“Lots of damage up there. Took him a whole hour to do the inspection.”

“How soon can he fix it?”

“About a month. He’s pretty booked up.”

“I got to be here an extra month?”

“Don’t have to, but I’d recommend it. Keep an eye on things. Make sure it’s getting done right.”

“Isn’t that something you can do?”

“You’re not my only client. It’s my busiest time of the year. What’s the hurry anyways, don’t ya miss the country?”

“Why I left. Plus, something’s out there.”

“Out where?”

“In this yard. The back forty. Some kind of…I don’t know…an animal.”

“Yea, so? Probably deer. You know that from growing up here.”

“This aint a deer. I know deer.”

“It’s nature. All kinds of things running around out there.”

“This thing…it stood up. (Using hand gestures) Went from here, to here. Had to be about eight feet, and I’m not exaggerating.”

“Eight feet? Are you sure? That don’t sound right.”

“Got eyes like a hawk. I was a fighter pilot.”

“Bears stand up.”

“No bears that size around here. This thing growled at me. Right here! Look at these busted up branches.”

“Maybe it was a big coyote or a wolf.”

“Wolves don’t live down here in the lower peninsula. Strictly UP. Coyotes avoid humans. This thing growled like it wanted me for dinner.”

“Maybe it’s the Dogman. If it is, perfect place for a hunter.”

“Funny.”

“Keep me updated on the roof. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yea, see ya.”

One week later, I was coming home from a night out at the bars. It was pitch dark out. No stars or moon. I had serious apprehension about getting out of my truck. My headlights were pointed towards the field. A deer ran across my point of view at a high rate of speed. Then a large black figure came out of the darkness and pounced on the deer. I gripped my steering wheel with terror watching this thing kill its prey. The black figure stood up, then deliberately moved towards me. Its head was the shape of a wolf, or dog; had pointy ears above the large bright eyes. A torso straight out of mythology. This animal was jacked, covered in jet black fur, and had pure white canine teeth about three inches. I hit the horn and revved up the engine to scare it away. The same growling from the other night vibrated inside of my cab. That’s how menacing this thing was. Every time I hit my horn, he retaliated with a longer growl and aggressive posture.

This went on for about thirty seconds, then the beast had enough and lunged at the truck. I hit the gas, then BAMMM, it rolled over the top, landed in my bed, then flailed out onto the ground. I looked into the rearview mirror and saw this thing stand up. The impact from my truck did nothing to it but pissed it off even more. It pursued again, and I hit the gas, but not fast enough. It leaped into the bed of my truck and could see large fire red eyeballs in the review mirror. Seconds later, it took one of its paws the size of my steering wheel and smashed my cab window. I picked up speed in the middle of this attack, swerving side to side, trying to throw it out. This thing wouldn’t let go, so I picked up more speed, bouncing up and down on uneven ground, till I noticed a large mound of dirt to my right, hitting it going forty-five, tossing the beast over my hood and on the ground.

I slammed on the brakes, grabbed my handgun, got out, and pointed at the standing beast. This thing was indestructible. Fired off round one, right in the chest. It roared in pain and anger. Second round. More pain and anguish. Third round. Down it went. No movement from it. I jumped back into the truck and got the hell out of there.

After sleeping the night inside my truck, I came home and went to the spot out in the field where I fired three -- assumed kills shots -- at the beast. I was wrong. No carcass. Nothing. Just a large impression in the grass. I inspected for blood, hoping to find evidence that my efforts last night were not futile. It was as if this thing never existed.

Later that day, I was trying to repair some of the damage it did to my truck, when a DNR vehicle pulled into my driveway. Randy knew this guy and thought I should talk to him. He walked towards me in his green uniform and gun to the side.

“How ya doing. You Stephen?”

“I am. You Randy’s friend?”

“That’s correct. He said you wanted to talk to me about some animal running around out back.”

“No animal could do this damage.”

I pointed to the bed of the truck.

“Those some big dents. Hit a deer?”

“I don’t know what it was for sure, but it was no deer. See my cab window – busted out.”

The DNR officer walked to the front to check out the damage there.

“Big animal.”

“No shit.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“Find this thing.”

“Find what? You don’t even know what IT is.”

“You’re gonna think I’m nuts, but it looked like a dogman.”

He laughed. Not surprisingly.

“Do I look like an idiot?”

“It wasn’t a deer. Not a bear. It was big, and it fucked up my truck. Look at it! My cab window is gone. I got dents in my cab. Dents up front. The thing can’t be killed.”

“Maybe you didn’t hit it hard enough.”

“I shot it. Three times.”

“You shot it?”

“Saw it go down, then got the hell outta here. I didn’t even sleep here last night. Come back today – no body. How do you explain that?”

“We’re DNR, not X-Files.”

“Look at my dents.”

“Any blood?

“No. I looked.”

“Get any pictures? Any videos?”

“(sarcastically) Sorry, he wasn’t very camera-friendly.”

“I can’t do much for you. No carcass. No blood. No pictures. Don’t have much to go on. Reach out if it comes back. Have a good day, sir.”

The officer got back into his vehicle and took off. I felt like an idiot after telling my story. Couldn’t blame him. Even with evidence, the story did sound kooky in my head.

A whole month went by without any “interaction” with the Dogman, till one night at my kitchen table. The table faced two large sliding glass doors with an unobstructed view of the deck outside.

I was on my laptop consuming every thing Dogman. Next to me, my dad’s old hunting rifles, and boxes of ammo. I also kept my hand gun within arm’s length. Then I heard it, CREAK, CREAK, CREAK. The deck steps giving way to massive weight along with a faint growl. The Dogman came into view, standing on the other side of two-inch glass sliding doors. His body filled the frame of both glass doors and then some. He had to crouch down to see inside, that’s how tall he was. It…attempted to open the door, like a human.

It kept its teeth mostly hidden, just staring me down with those large glowing red eyes. I slowly grabbed my hand gun; it watched my movement and kept its eyes on the gun. The same one that shot it. His eyes darted back and forth between me and the weapon. The beast inspected the glass sliding doors. I cocked my gun. He heard that and got its attention.

“What do you want?!” I yelled out.

It growled but sounded more like communication, not intimidation.

The most extraordinary thing followed. It got down on all four legs, growled, then jumped over the hand railing, and into the darkness.

A few days later, I was staining the deck, when Randy and a husband and wife pulled up. I set the brush down and went to greet them.

“Stephen, this is Rose and Larry. They’re here to look at the house,” said Randy.

“Nice to meet you guys,” I said.

“When was the house built?” Larry asked.

“1964.”

“Wow. Looks good for being built in the sixties,” Rose said.

“My mom took really good care of it. Just had the roof done.”

The couple scanned the yard and looked out towards the back forty.

“Forty acres of land back there. Plenty of room to let your kids run around,” Randy chimed in.

“Wouldn’t go too far back,” I warned.

“Why is that?” Larry asked.

“You never know what’s back there,” I answered.

“Nothing dangerous I hope,” Rose said.

“Naw. Just some deer. Coyotes. Maybe a few bears. The usual stuff,” I said.

“We’re both from Michigan. We get it,” Larry said.

“Oh yea, where you from?” I asked.

“Detroit,” Larry said.

“Well…this aint Detroit,” I said. “Get a little bigger, little scarier up here.”

“How scarier?” Rose asked.

Right after that question, a growl from the back forty, traveled all the way to our ears, and it sounded impressive; almost make you shit your pants.

“What the hell is that?” Larry asked.

“Yea, what the hell was that?” Randy also asked.

“That was the Dogman,” answering with a grin.

“Dogman. That isn’t real…right?” Rose asked.

“Probably a bear,” I said.

“Bears don’t growl that loud,” Rose said.

Randy looked at me with a confused look.

“Let’s take a look inside. I think you’ll love what Stephen did to it,” Randy said. I laughed at my little performance, then went back to staining the deck.

Half hour later the three walked out. I was having a beer on the deck admiring my handwork.

“Nice meet you guys,” I said.

“You two. Loved what you did to the cabinets,” Rose said.

“I’ll walk you guys to your car,” Randy said, then looked back at me. “Be right back.”

I watched the couple and Randy say goodbyes, then he joined me.

“What the fuck was that?” Randy asked.

“What?”

“That noise back there.”

“I told ya. You didn’t believe me.”

“That was…what you saw?”

“What attacked me.”

“It attacked you?”

“Busted out my cab window. Showed up at my front door a month later. (pointing to where the thing was on the deck) Stood right there. It even tried to open my door. Thank God I had them locked.”

“Now you’re just fucking with me.”

“Nope. All true.”

You’re fucking with me.”

“Go take a look at my front end. Look inside the cab. Dents. Window’s gone. See for yourself.”

Randy walked over to my truck. Walked back over to me.

“You got some big dents.”

“It’s real. A real dogman lives back there.”

“How are you not dead?”

“Beats the shit out of me.”

“I can’t sell this house, knowing some…thing…or dogman…is real and running around out there. Not with a clear conscience.”

“I don’t think I want to sell anyways.”

“Why? You want to live here?”

“Big city life ran its course.”

“So, you’re just gonna wait for it to show up on your front door again?”

“Maybe we’ll become friends.”

“You serious?”

“If it wanted me dead, it would have busted through that glass, and you wouldn’t be here talking to me. It paid a visit for a different reason, not to kill me. It knows I’ll fight back. I gave it three bullets and a few rounds with my truck. Plus, mom left me this house to get back in touch with my Michigan roots; remember where I came from. I wanna honor her request. Not make a profit off it.”

“You think she ever saw the Dogman?”

“I think so. One night we were talking on the phone; she was out here on the deck. She saw some eyes out in the back forty. Just like I did that night. Every now and then she’d see the eyes, then they disappear, then for good. My opinion, it didn’t recognize me that night. Thought I was a threat. My mom wasn’t. Could see the frailty in her. I don’t know. Just a theory.”

“I’ll pull the sign then. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will. But I think I’m here for a while.”

“You and the Dogman…neighbors. See ya around.”

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see it again, and I don’t think it wants to see me either. But my Glock 9 will always be near just in case myth becomes reality.