Michigan Woman's Terrifying Bigfoot Encounters at Remote Cabin
Posted Wednesday, September 23, 2026
By Squatchable.com staff
A Dogman sighting near Michigan's Manistee National Forest has resurfaced online, and the footage — along with the handwritten account that came with it — is the kind of thing that makes you sit up and pay attention.
The clip comes from the YouTube channel Trail Stories, and it tells the story of Bess Martin, a 61-year-old woman who lived alone in a remote cabin off a seasonal road near Irons in Lake County. She'd been there five years, paid cash, kept to herself, and wanted it that way. Then, in October of 2013, things started changing.
It started small. Salted venison disappearing from her smokehouse, the latch worked open by something with hands, not claws. Then her own voice came back to her from the treeline — words she'd spoken inside her cabin days before, repeated back in her exact cadence. The dogs never barked. Whatever was out there had been close enough to hear her through the walls, and patient enough to wait.
On November 2nd, 2013, Bess saw it. Standing at the north fence line — the very fence the previous owner told her to leave alone — was a figure over seven feet tall, upright on two legs, with a wolf's head, long snout, high-pointed ears, and shoulders built like a man who'd worked his whole life. Dark matted fur shed the falling snow. Its hind legs bent digitigrade, the way a dog's do, and it stood there entirely still, watching her watch it. Then it tilted its head, listening to something behind it in the trees, letting her see that it was listening. The way you let a rival see you take a phone call.
She filmed about 40 seconds before her hands shook too badly to hold the frame.
What makes this account stand out isn't just the sighting — it's the documentation. Bess kept a daily ledger dating every event. She mailed memory cards and handwritten letters once a week to her nephew downstate, telling him to keep them all and open none around his children. The last package was postmarked the day after her cabin was found empty in March of 2014. The stove was cold. The three dogs were fed and quiet. A camera on a tripod in the kitchen had died, aimed at an empty chair. On the memory card were six hours of recording, and on the last stretch, two voices in the room — both of them hers.
Bess Martin has never been found.
For anyone who's spent time looking into the Dogman phenomenon, this kind of detailed, dated account is rare. Most reports come secondhand, filtered through decades of retelling. What makes Bess's story different is the paper trail — the ledger, the letters, the footage, the mailed packages. She documented everything as it happened, and she did it knowing something was wrong long before she could name it.
The Dogman itself fits a pattern researchers have noted across the Midwest, particularly in Michigan, Wisconsin, and the forested regions of the Upper Peninsula. Witnesses consistently describe a tall, bipedal canid with digitigrade legs, a wolf-like head, and an unsettling intelligence. What sets this account apart is the behavior — the patience, the mimicry, the deliberate choice of the salted meat over the easier unsalted haunch, the wire unwound and folded neatly on the shelf like a note. This wasn't an animal raiding a cache. This was something communicating.
The north fence detail is worth lingering on, too. Tuck Severin, the man who sold Bess the cabin, told her one thing that mattered: leave the north fence alone. Whatever was using that fence line had been there long before Bess arrived, and it had a claim to the place that predated hers by decades. The voice she eventually heard in the trees wasn't just imitating her — it began speaking in the words of people who had gone missing off that ridge years before she ever showed up. And near the end, it called her by the name she'd buried in another state, the one no living person was supposed to know.
Forty seconds of shaky footage and a stack of handwritten letters. That's what remains of Bess Martin's five years on that ridge. The video on Trail Stories walks through the full account, and it's worth the time. There's a lot here that doesn't fit neatly into any one explanation, and a lot that fits uncomfortably well into the ones we don't usually talk about out loud.
Go watch it. Then go sit with it for a while.