Werewolves are one of the most iconic monsters in history, both fictional and historical. From the legend of King Licaon to the alpha werewolf of the werewolves, the idea of a walking, upright half-werewolf, half-human has invaded the imagination of many fantasy lovers. However, it’s hard to call werewolves mystics, and that’s where our new friend The dog man comes in.
Also known as the “Michigan Dog Man,” the “Bray Road Beast,” or simply the “Upright Dog,” these de facto modern werewolves have been found since the early 1900s until today. However, most sightings have been in the US states of Michigan and Wisconsin. This is a list of modern werewolf sightings in the area around Lake Michigan, in order from morning to night.
Bray Road is a modest stretch of road running east from the modest Wisconsin town of Elkhorn. It is also the particular stretch of road in which the Beast of Bray Road gets his name, though a sighting in 1989 would be the first in this beastly cryptid’s illustrious career.
It is a brisk fall night, around 1:30 am. All is dark and quiet on the backcountry Bray Road, connecting Highway 11 and County Road NN. Lori Endrizzi is driving home from her job as a manager of an Elkhorn lodge, and that’s when she sees it. At the side of the road, a dark-brownish-grey figure is kneeling with its back turned to her, short pointed ears being the only real thing to stand out.
As Endrizzi drove closer, it turned, showing off its strangely canine face. “Its elbows were up, and its claws were facing out, so I knew it had claws,” claims Endrizzi. “I remember the long claws.” Those claws seemed to be holding roadkill, and its eyes reflected the glow of her headlights. It appeared to be five-foot-seven and 150 pounds, from what she could tell at a fleeting glance.
However, unlike most wild animals, this canine creature didn’t run off but instead gazed directly into her eyes. Endrizzi drove off. She felt as if it were so like a human that there could be no trace of a wild animal being felt in those eyes. “To this day, I believe it was satanic,” she says, “It was just my feeling. I don’t really believe in werewolves, per se, but I believe something could be conjured up. My grandmother was very religious, and she believed it too.”
At some point later, Lori Endrizzi went to report her story to the Walworth County Animal Control, and hers would be one of the first to enter into animal control officer Jon Fredrikson’s manila envelope labeled “Werewolf,” and where the first of many sightings of the Beast of Bray Road would first be collected.