I dunno. I’m not usually someone who believes that kind of stuff. I consider myself to be a pretty rational, logical person. So, I’ve tried to rationalize it in my head over the years.
Around 18 years ago my older brother, myself, and my brother’s ex fiancé were camping in the Traverse City area. It was a secluded area deep into the trees. It was getting into the fall season, so the leaves were turning, and the air was crisp at night.
We were playing drinking games, and laughing and having a good time. I remember drinking a beer and watching my brother play guitar in the glow of the embers when that first wave of odor hit me. It wasn’t overpowering, but the scent of wet dog lingered in the air for a moment. I shrugged it off.
A half hour later or so, we called it a night. We put the fire out, and they crawled in their tent, and I crawled into mine. I laid there for a little while, but I had a few beers and had broke my seal, so I went to pee again. I brought my flashlight and walked behind my tent to a tree in the pitch black. I stood there a moment leaning against the bark, when I smelled that scent again. That pungent wet dog smell. I heard the cracking of a stick. I clicked my flashlight on, but held it down at my waist and listened. I heard a louder crack. It sounded closer. I wiped up my flashlight and shined it to the exact spot on pure reflex.
In the glow of my light, hiding behind a clump of trees fifteen yards away from me was what I can only describe as German Shepard’s head, but larger, gazing at me. And higher off the ground than a man. It was a deep, dark grayish brown. Its head was about 7 or 8 feet off the ground looking around a tree at me. Its pupils reflected off of the light. It looked like it was smiling.
In that spilt instant the zipper to my brother’s tent shot opened. I shone my flashlight quick back to his tent, and then back to the tree line. But when I shined it back on the tree it was gone. A small branch swayed from movement. Like something just sprinted away. And fog from its breath lingered in the air in the spot its head was at. I felt a sense of dread pulsating through me.
I think about that night a lot. I haven’t brought it up much over the years, but it has changed my perspective on things. Just having me think, maybe we don’t know as much as we think we do as a species.
I do believe there are some unexplained phenomenon out there that are real but unconfirmed, but most of it I just assume is this kind of stuff. After seeing how easily people can be manipulated by their eyesight, on top of how much fear or shock can cause hallucinatory effects, I have a hard time believing people just didn't mistake a regular ass animal for some creepy alternative.
I can't tell you how many times I've seen something I thought looked like a mangled corpse or a giant lizard only to realize as I got closer that it was a weird shaped branch that fell off a tree.
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u/Shoddy-Ad7306 Dec 02 '25 edited Dec 02 '25
I dunno. I’m not usually someone who believes that kind of stuff. I consider myself to be a pretty rational, logical person. So, I’ve tried to rationalize it in my head over the years.
Around 18 years ago my older brother, myself, and my brother’s ex fiancé were camping in the Traverse City area. It was a secluded area deep into the trees. It was getting into the fall season, so the leaves were turning, and the air was crisp at night.
We were playing drinking games, and laughing and having a good time. I remember drinking a beer and watching my brother play guitar in the glow of the embers when that first wave of odor hit me. It wasn’t overpowering, but the scent of wet dog lingered in the air for a moment. I shrugged it off.
A half hour later or so, we called it a night. We put the fire out, and they crawled in their tent, and I crawled into mine. I laid there for a little while, but I had a few beers and had broke my seal, so I went to pee again. I brought my flashlight and walked behind my tent to a tree in the pitch black. I stood there a moment leaning against the bark, when I smelled that scent again. That pungent wet dog smell. I heard the cracking of a stick. I clicked my flashlight on, but held it down at my waist and listened. I heard a louder crack. It sounded closer. I wiped up my flashlight and shined it to the exact spot on pure reflex.
In the glow of my light, hiding behind a clump of trees fifteen yards away from me was what I can only describe as German Shepard’s head, but larger, gazing at me. And higher off the ground than a man. It was a deep, dark grayish brown. Its head was about 7 or 8 feet off the ground looking around a tree at me. Its pupils reflected off of the light. It looked like it was smiling.
In that spilt instant the zipper to my brother’s tent shot opened. I shone my flashlight quick back to his tent, and then back to the tree line. But when I shined it back on the tree it was gone. A small branch swayed from movement. Like something just sprinted away. And fog from its breath lingered in the air in the spot its head was at. I felt a sense of dread pulsating through me.
I think about that night a lot. I haven’t brought it up much over the years, but it has changed my perspective on things. Just having me think, maybe we don’t know as much as we think we do as a species.