Welcome, fellow ghost hunters, to an evening of eerie exploration through the shadowed corners of Flint. Tonight, we delve into the chilling lore of Michigan’s most enigmatic creature—the Michigan Dogman. Beware, for the tale we weave tonight might just make you rethink those midnight strolls.

Our story begins in the misty woods of Michigan, where the first sighting of the Dogman was reported in 1887. Two lumberjacks, deep in the heart of Wexford County, claimed to have encountered a beast like no other—a creature with the body of a man and the head of a dog. This was no ordinary sighting, and the lumberjacks’ harrowing tale set the stage for decades of unsettling encounters.

Fast forward to 1930, near the Muskegon River. Fisherman Robert Fortney had just finished his day when a pack of wild dogs erupted from the woods. Fortney fired his gun, scattering the pack, but one massive black dog remained—a towering beast that stood on its hind legs and locked eyes with him with piercing blue orbs. Despite Fortney’s best efforts, the creature bolted into the forest, leaving behind a chilling memory and a fearsome legend.

The Dogman is typically described as a six- to seven-foot-tall bipedal creature, with the torso of a man and the head of a wolf. Its howl is said to be a scream that chills the bone, and those who have encountered it often recall its glowing amber or blue eyes and razor-sharp fangs. Most sightings occur near dark, wooded areas or along lonely stretches of road, where the Dogman is often seen devouring roadkill or stalking the shadows.

But the Dogman’s tale doesn’t end there. French settlers brought with them tales of the Loup Garou, or werewolves, from their homeland. While these tales spoke of men transforming into beasts and back again, the Dogman is different. As cryptozoologist Linda S. Godfrey notes, the Dogman is a fully canine entity, walking upright and carrying prey with its forelimbs. It is said to be distinct from mere men in fur suits, with its digitigrade stance and fierce appearance.
In the 20th century, the Dogman’s legend grew when radio disc jockey Steve Cook aired a song called “The Legend” as an April Fool’s Day joke in 1987. To Cook’s surprise, the song sparked a surge of Dogman sightings, turning a prank into a phenomenon. The Dogman, it seems, had taken on a life of its own.

Local folklore suggests that the Dogman appears in cycles, every ten or seven years, and is linked to ancient Native American shapeshifter legends. According to Nick Redfern, such creatures might be remnants of warlike tribes who transformed into fearsome beasts to intimidate their foes. This idea was reinforced by a letter from David Walks As Bear, a member of the Shawnee Nation, who suggested that the Dogman could be spirit warriors trapped between worlds.

In Flint, the Dogman’s legend persists. In 1935, hunter Earl Eastman killed an extraordinarily large wolf near Rhody Creek Trail, only for the creature to vanish under mysterious circumstances. Then in 1973, a local resident reported seeing a beast in Flint—a creature with the body of a man and the head of a German Shepherd, standing on two legs and terrifyingly real.

As you wander these darkened streets tonight, remember the tales of the Michigan Dogman. Whether a shape-shifter, spirit, or something entirely beyond our understanding, the Dogman continues to roam the shadows of Michigan, forever a part of its haunting landscape. Keep your wits about you, and perhaps, just perhaps, you might glimpse a figure lurking at the edge of the woods, watching you with eyes that gleam in the darkness.