Bigfoot of Bennington Lake, Submitted by Andrew

My girlfriend and I decided to go out to Bennington Lake on an August evening with my canoe and my lab, Jake. The plan was that we would put into the lake at dusk and sit out on the water to watch the Leonids meteor shower until the wee hours. We arrived at the lake a bit before dusk, to make sure we were well situated before dark. We'd brought some snacks and a six pack of beer, and the plan was to leave Jake on the shore so that he cou, nold swim until he was content and then crash in the back of the truck 'til we were ready to come in. This was a plan that had worked well in the past, but in the past we hadn't had the pleasure of a scary, hairy, smelly visitor. My girlfriend and I put the canoe in the lake and paddled around for about a half hour and Jake, as per usual, swam out with his ball for us to throw, taking shore breaks as desired. Dark was encroaching when we heard a commotion from the trees at the far end of the lake. A sharp crack split the dusk air and everything else went ominously silent. It was as if time had stopped. Jake was on the shore, standing frozen, hackles raised and teeth bared. I couldn't hear him growling, but he pretty obviously was. We were close to the trees and the sound seemed to have come from not far away. My girlfriend looked at me, pretty clearly alarmed by this sudden strange turn. Here we were, alone out on the lake with darkness gathering rapidly. The truck was at the far end of the lake. Jake began to make a plaintive wailing sound that I'd never before heard him make. He sounded terrified. My girlfriend was looking closer to panic by the second as another crack split the gloom from closer. It was as loud as the report of a large caliber weapon, and gave the impression of a tree being broken. I was trying to look calm, but I'll admit I was scared. Then we smelled it. I once had a rotten onion in my refrigerator after returning from a trip. This smelled worse. It smelled worse than the time my cousin's gerbil died under his bed and he didn't find it for a month. It was rank. Our eyes were riveted on the shore in the direction of the noise when out of the shadows it emerged. The light was fading, but it wasn't dark. What we saw wan not a man. It wasn't a bear. I've seen bears. This was a hominid covered in dark, shaggy hair. It looked straight at us and for several moments nobody moved. The dark figure bent down to the water and scooped some up to its mouth and then turned and disappeared into the treeline. When I looked to where Jake had been I saw him disappear up the road leading away from the road. He'd never before taken off like that during the many times I'd taken him out to Bennington Lake. I feared I'd never find him. (Luckily he was home when we arrived back.) Suddenly watching a meteor shower 'til two in the morning didn't seem like the most appealing prospect. Not with that creature out there stalking around the shores. We paddled in as quickly as was possible, pulling the canoe from the water as the lake sank into blackness and the meteor flashed overhead. I've been back many times since with no similar happenings, but that one will stick with me for good.