When Myths Become Reality — This is My Terrifying True Story
Our horses were attacked. We never expected this to be the culprit.
Trigger Warning: Guns, predator-inflicted injuries to animals, hunting
Ma’am, we don’t have those in Southern Illinois but email me your evidence and I’ll come out later.
After spending hours doing research on nuisance laws, and calling The Department of Natural Resources, Forestry Service, and Wild Animal Rescues, I was deeply disappointed.
It attacked our horses and we were ending this one way or another.
I know what I saw.
Forever a Horse Girl
In October 2018, I bought my second horse. My first was my former stepmother’s but he’ll always be mine in my heart.
Freya is a beautiful Buckskin Quarter Horse. She wasn’t anything like what I was looking for but everything I needed. It didn’t take long to realize she was my Heart Horse.
Will and Candace were friends of ours, at the time. They helped me find Freya and we boarded with them at Will’s parents’ house. With three mares and a foal, Freya became part of their herd almost seamlessly.
It wasn’t uncommon to hear the occasional coyote pack lurking nearby. We even found a few coyotes Dolly had taken care of. She was head of the herd and took her job very seriously.
I loved going to the barn each night to feed, groom, and spend time with Freya. The barn was my happy place.
For 11 months, anyway.
September 2019
As usual, we went to the barn where we boarded my horse, that night. I could tell immediately that something wasn’t right.
“Why are they all in the barn?” I asked Aaron, my husband, who only shrugged as he pet Freya.
Uhh, babe, you might want to see this.
I was putting my things down and getting Freya’s grain and supplements ready for her. I could hear the concern in his voice and knew whatever it was, wasn’t good.
I rushed to the stall and saw scratches down her hind end and bite marks on her stomach. Between the lump in my throat and the sense of dread brewing, I couldn’t breathe.
I turned around, frozen with fear. A wave of dizziness and nausea took over.
On the other side of the barn stood the other four horses. There was blood on all of Dolly’s legs.
We immediately called the property owners and the owners of the other horses.
We inspected each of the horses and found scratches and bites on all five. Willow and Luna each only had one claw mark, Ginny had blood and scratches on her back legs, but Topper got the worst of the attack.
As a small 1-year-old foal, Topper was clearly the target.
With no visible wounds, the blood on Dolly’s front legs wasn’t hers. Though she had injuries to her hind end and back legs, we knew she was defending the herd.
The horses are too tall.
The claw marks are too thin.
The bite marks were the wrong shape.
This was no coyote attack.
The Stakeout
After dropping our kids off at their grandma’s, we headed back.
By the time we got to the barn, Will and Candace had put the horses up. Towards the front of the barn was a pen. Though somewhat small, they had a means of escape if things went sideways.
With a predator on the loose, a horse locked in a run-in barn is the equivalent of fish in a barrel.
Once the darkness settled in, we went our separate ways in two groups. Candace and I headed to the field while Aaron and Will started along the perimeter, guns in hand.
With the property surrounded by cornfields, we needed to stay vigilant. Though seeing my husband walking between an electric fence and a cornfield, I felt like he was bait. An easy prey for whatever was out there.
With her gun holstered to her hip, we had protection as Candace drove us on the four-wheeler. On the back rack, I had flashlights, night-vision binoculars, and a walkie-talkie.
Aaron and Will were directly opposite of us and I noticed they hadn’t moved for a while. Candace stopped the four-wheeler and we watched them for a few minutes. Aaron’s body language was stiff and he tossed up his arms in confusion.
I thought, “I know this man better than he knows himself. Something’s wrong.”
Just then, Will came through the walkie-talkie. “Something’s in there. I don’t know what it is but it’s high-pitched and there’s more than one.”
We heard an angry rumble and the horses went ballistic. The rustle of cornstalks was loud and terrifying. Something barrelled through them right next to us.
I grabbed the walkie-talkie and yelled,
“GET OUT OF THERE!”
Will raised his gun, looked through the scope, and whispered, “Oh my god. They’re cubs!”
He and Aaron dropped to the ground and scrambled under the electric fencing. Any sort of barrier between it and them was better than nothing.
I lifted my binoculars and couldn’t believe my eyes.
A mountain lion and 3 cubs.
DNR Visit
The following afternoon, an agent from the Department of Natural Resources met with us.
We told him our story and showed him the pictures again. He checked out the horses’ wounds, including new ones. He still shrugged it off and stuck to his story.
We don’t have mountain lions in Southern Illinois but nuisance laws apply. If what you’re telling me is true and you’re able to take out the mother, call me. I’ll come get the body and the cubs.
You all be safe, now.
Once he left, we packed up the four-wheelers and headed to the shooting range.
We were all a little rusty, especially me. I had only ever shot a Red Ryder BB Gun I had gotten for my 7th birthday. I hadn’t touched it in 15 years.
I shot a 40 cal. twice and realized guns just weren’t my thing.
Everyone else took turns shooting and switching guns while I wandered to take pictures.
After shooting practice, we ordered pizzas and hung out. We laughed and joked, told stories, and ate every bit of pizza. It was as if nothing had happened.
As night fell, we realized it was time to round up the horses again.
Night 2
This time, we decided to take Will’s truck into the pasture. Aaron and Will sat inside the truck, Candace and I were in the bed, and on top of the cab, a former military sniper.
Tom had been a sniper in Iraq and then an instructor for many years. We thought having an excellent marksman on our side would end this nightmare.
After a few minutes, Tom spotted them. The mother was on top of the old shed in the back corner of the pasture while her cubs played below.
After a few colorful words, Tom climbed down. He said that with the angle of the creek and hill, he couldn’t get a clear shot.
For 2 hours, we sat quietly, taking turns watching Mama Cat and her cubs.
When it came time for Tom to head out, we did too. We packed everything up and headed out of the field. Once Tom was gone, we started walking to our posts around the barn.
Corn stalks began to rustle and the outside dog became enraged.
Buck barked and growled with viciousness I didn’t think the good boy had in him. If his pen didn’t have a cover on it, he would’ve escaped.
Seeing is Believing
Across the road from the main house, we could vaguely see movement in the field. Something was out there.
It came to a complete halt.
So did our ability to breathe.
The 4 of us stood side by side, frozen. It was as if we were in a trance for a short moment.
Careful not to set off the motion sensor lights, we snuck alongside the house. I still had the night vision binoculars in hand and peered through.
Though I was handing the binoculars to Aaron, my eyes remained fixed on the same spot.
I couldn’t look away.
Aaron was just as stunned but continued passing them along. Still staring at the same spot, I whispered,
Please tell me I’m not crazy. Did you guys see it too?
I looked around as they all nodded.
A black mountain lion.
The Black Panther
The Black Panther, Ghost Cat, Demon Panther, The Phantom Cat. We had all heard the myth since childhood.
It was real.
It was real and it was looking right at us.
Aaron grabbed the binoculars from me and moved me aside. He stood next to Will and together, they made sure it was a clear shot.
Aaron passed the binoculars for Candace and I to verify. The gun’s laser was set on the panther’s chest.
The perfect shot.
Aaron took the binoculars back and made sure neither Will nor the panther had moved.
“Take it.”
I heard Will take 2 deep breaths before covering my ears. I glanced over and he squeezed the trigger on his third exhale.
Will lowered his weapon and looked at Aaron. They were baffled, speechless. The men just stared at each other.
I turned Aaron around and yelled, “What?! What happened?!”
Will whispered, “I missed.”
He turned around, put his hands on top of his head, and muttered those two words as he walked away.
“There’s no f**king way! There’s no way you missed that!”
I screamed. Sheer confusion and disbelief enveloped me. I needed to see for myself.
Glowing eyes staring back into mine, there it sat.
The Black Panther hadn’t budged.
He missed.
Later
After a few days, we heard that a man in the Amish community killed a black panther. After finding his horses attacked and chickens killed, they went for a hunt.
Together, we all let out a sigh of relief.
It was over.
Until it wasn’t.
A few months went by and we had forgotten our failed mission. The corn was harvested, we had a clear view of our surroundings, and we felt at ease. It was like a nightmare erased by the morning sun.
Then, there was a nearby sighting.
Less than 5 miles away, a black mountain lion burst out of the woods and ran beside a man’s truck.
I may have forgotten one but I never will again.
Alongside Sasquatch, the Enfield Horror, and the Tuttle Bottoms Monster, the Black Panther lives on in Southern Illinois.
This is my true story taking place between September 22 and 23, 2019.
I have seen mountain lions in my area two other times. Once was in Pope County, IL during a summer storm as a kid. The other was in my town while driving home about 2 years ago.
A friend called me in a panic that evening. She saw it while doing yard work. Thankfully, she quickly got her family to safety. There was a Facebook post regarding this sighting. I remember sharing the post but it has been lost to memes and ramblings.
Officials will claim there aren’t any in Illinois until they’re blue in the face. Ask the locals instead.
Read more about the Black Panther sightings here:
- Cougars in Illinois?
- Monsters and Mysteries in America S3/E8 summary
- Black Panthers in Illinois
- Eyewitnesses Swear There Are Black Panthers in Illinois. Are There Really?
Names of others and their horses have been changed for privacy.
Some quotes were edited for length and language. Most are accurate or to the very best of my memory.
The wound pictured on Freya is the only one I could find. Four years later, she still has a scar on her hind end from the claws.
