It was 10PM and it was time to call in Kirby the Beagle for the night.  Only one problem, Kirby was at the corner of our backyard fence barking.  Barking aggressively.  Barking at something in the woods.  Something that appeared to be moving and maybe even snarling in the woods.

Proud of Kirby’s desire to protect our homestead, but worried about what was lurching in the forest, I began to usher him toward the backdoor.

Glancing over my shoulder, I expected to see the worst.

Prankster Teens…  no wait, worse…
Great Horned Owl…  no wait, worse…
Jackalope…  no wait, worse….
Coyote…  no wait, worse….
Mountain Lion…  no wait, worse…
Bear…  no wait, worse…
Sasquatch…  no wait, worse…
Jabberwocky…  no wait, worse…
Chupacabra…  no wait, worse…
The Blair Witch!

Good Lord!  Run!

Ah, we may not know what was rustling in the woods, but we do know what evil dwells in one man’s troubled imagination.