My Story

I was twelve. We lived on Ledge Road, outside St. Stephen, on the edge of town. It was early fall.

My mother, Betty, and I were inside, looking out the window. She noticed it first.

“A cougar,” she exclaimed.

It was about a hundred feet away, going across the field. It was dark, with a long tail. It walked slowly, and I could see its shoulder blades go up and down.

It did not know we were there. It did not look at us.

I put it at about fifteen minutes. That is just a guess. It seemed maybe longer.

Then it went into the woods.

I went outside for a better look. Mom did not think that was a good idea. I could not find it.

I could not believe it. I did not know a cougar could be in New Brunswick.

I told a few people, but most think you are crazy.

At twelve, I realized that what grown-ups tell you is not always true, and that just because the general population believes something does not mean it’s true.

It was the last week of June 2025.

My son Alex and I stayed at the top of Mount Carleton until 2 a.m. to view the stars. It was a cloudless, moonless night. We had camping hammocks set up to sleep in, just below the treeline, after astronomical midnight, the darkest part of the night.

We left by the main road out of Mount Carleton Provincial Park. It was 7 a.m. and a sunny day. I was driving. Alex was asleep in the truck.

About fifteen minutes after leaving the park, on the main road outside it, an animal stuck its head out of the grass at the side of the road. I slowed down and stopped. I watched it walk quickly across the road. When it got to the other side, it sprinted into the forest.

It was three metres from the truck. I watched it for ten to fifteen seconds.

It was dark brown and sleek, with a long tail. It was longer than a large dog, but not as high.

I woke Alex as it crossed, but it was too late. He missed it. I said to him: “See what happens when you sleep, or you’re on your phone? You miss the wonders of nature.”

I was fully stopped. I got out to see if I could see it in the woods. I did, once more. It was running away.

My camera was put away, and I did not grab my phone, because I did not want to miss it. It was more important to see it for real than to get a picture. If you are not ready when you see something like this, you will miss it if you scramble for a camera or a phone. So I enjoyed the moment.

I did not report it. I just told Uncle Kenneth, my wife and Mom. Everyone else thinks you’re nuts.