Or maybe a Goddamned Cougar.
We're still not sure what the hell it was.
I was at my buddy's place on East Bay in Northeast Olympia, shooting off fireworks and generally having a gay-ole-tyme. Around 1:30 I'm talking to my buddy Steve and we touch on some heavy stuff, stuff about his now-former relationship with a girl he'd been with for a year and a half. I roll up a pair of cigarettes and we go outside for some conversation on the deck, which juts out from the hill on which my friend's house is founded, a good 25 feet up from the shoreline.
Eventually my two other buddies join us and we're all just chilling out when we hear sounds like somebody walking on the beach, and we look down. Its cloudy, no stars, no moon. We can't see what it is. Steve goes "there, by the log!" I'm straining my eyes, about 80 feet away. I pull out my car keys and turn on my little green pointer light, and it barely illuminates things but I can see the relative shape of some four-leggged animal walking toward the shore on the beach.
"What the fuck is that!" I ask. Barry says its a dog, I'm like "fuck this lets check it out. This is a fucking adventure, guys."
We walk inside to get a flashlight. Beside the door is some old-ass Ninja sword my Barry picked up years ago, its not even decently sharp, but fuck it, its the closest thing to a weapon I can find. Steve grabs a bottle of rum as a weapon (and for drinking purposes) and Barry goes off after a flashlight. We head down toward the beach. As we near the edge of this terrace we can hear the animal making sounds. Strange sounds, sounds we'd never heard before. "Is it a raccoon?" No, no, the thing on the beach was much too big to be a raccoon.
Its making this sound right here:
Bob Cat growl sample
I climb down the terrace and wait for my friends to join me - Anthony has the only Goddamn lamp we could find and Barry is nowhere to be seen. Steve has now traded in the bottle for a rake he found on the grass. I'm standing within a circle of light from the lamp on the terrace above, and none of my fuckawful friends will jump down to stand with me. I have the sword out, and I'm slowly inching my way forward when I hear something that sounds like this
scary ass sound coming from the foliage not twenty feet away from me and dead ahead.
Cougar growl sample
Followed by a very long, drawn out hiss. Definitely a feline hiss.
I grip the sword tight and hold it high, ready to lash out in a diagonal cut. My legs are wide and well planted. Steve's like "Fuck
this, get the fuck out of there."
I'm still adamant. This is a fucking adventure.
Adrenaline is making me bold. I am experiencing a total rush, the rush I get from hunting. The grass is slick under my feet, and then comes another low hiss. Its definitely closer this time, and none of my friends are coming. At this point I realize I might be over my head. I'm done here. I have no idea what the fuck is out there, only that it was the size of a very large dog (or bigger, as it was between 80 and 100 feet away) I begin to walk backwards, ordering Steve to jump down and help me if it charges me. I slowly make my way back to the small stone stairway at the edge of the terrace.
After that Barry showed up with a proper flashlight and we searched the surrounding woods but found no creature, and it seemed to have moved away after our confrontation. We searched the brush, the beach, made a wide circle but we caught sight of neither hide nor hair of the creature.
After that we went online and listened to a lot of big cat calls and found these above two that seemed to match what we heard. Many jokes were then cracked about how hilarious it would have been to tell people that "Hey my buddy Matt (thats me) was mauled by a Bob Cat on the Fourth of July."
It was good times.