In the late 1970's my dad had a prized collection of coon hounds. He took a couple of the dogs out one night for some coon hunting. The dogs were on trail when suddenly the stopped baying. A few minutes later they were by his side, whining and wouldn't leave him. He was getting peeved when he heard a chilling scream pierce the cold november air. He quickly scooted out of the area but the screams got closer and more frequent. The screams were right behind him when he made it back to our house. He opened the kennel and released all the dogs. He heard more screams then a nasty fight. He ran into ther house called my uncle and grabbed a shotgun and was gone. The screams had stopped and he eventually caught up with the dogs, they were all bloody and two were missing. He and my uncle searched diligntly the next three days but never found a trace of the missing dogs. They did come across a bunch of blood next to a pond about two miles from our house. He went coon hunting again a few days later and never heard the criiter, or whatever it was again. He carried a blackhawk .357 from the night until the day he died.