While nobody knows the exact origins of chicken-fried steak, we have a pretty good idea that its roots trace back to West European immigrants bringing their recipes to Texas in the 1800s. Likely a variant of the German wiener schnitzel (the fried beef, not the restaurant chain), the dish is a distinctly Texan descendant of the original. Texans took that old recipe, doused it in gravy, and added elements influenced by other cultures, namely frying the beef like chicken, to turn it into what it is today. In much the same way, the story of the distinctly Texan cryptic Dogman, chronicled in Seth Breedlove’s The Dogman Triangle: Werewolves in the Lone Star State, is a version of the werewolf myth, just smothered in gravy.
I have to admit, before I watched this documentary, I’d never heard of this particular creature. That’s likely because it seems so localized, as the subtitle points out, to rural areas in Texas that form a rough triangle between San Antonio, Houston, and Dallas. Like chicken-fried steak the origins of Dogman stories can feasibly be traced back to Germanic immigrants in the 19th century, with a mix of flavors and spices from other cultures. As the film points out, several Native American myths also deal with canines walking on two legs. These legends may have fused with European werewolf tales and even Bigfoot lore to produce Dogman (the cryptid, not the popular children’s book character).
Of course, this isn’t to say The Dogman Triangle: Werewolves in the Lone Star State outright accepts the sightings of these creatures as pure conjecture. Rather than come down on either the side of the skeptics or the believers, Breedlove attempts to balance arguments for each. Aaron Deese, who wrote the book on which the film is based, and Shannon Legro interview a number of people who claim to have encountered these creatures. They balance those out with interviews with those who doubt their existence. Explanations for Dogman sightings range from an undiscovered species to bears infected with mange to an otherworldly or wholly supernatural being.

“…the origins of Dogman stories can feasibly be traced back to Germanic immigrants in the 19th century…”
Near the film’s start, cryptozoologist Ken Gerhard asserts that all cryptids are essentially amalgamations of different myths and traditions. He continues that there may have originally been something peculiar at the heart of any monster story, but over the years, hoaxes and misidentifications have a tendency to crop up. One can easily extrapolate how then these stories become self-sustaining. People hear the stories, see something odd, and perpetuate the story for others, and so it goes.
Yet The Dogman Triangle: Werewolves in the Lone Star State never portrays the eyewitnesses as cooks or liars. The film paints these people as wholehearted believers. What they encountered, and in many cases, dealt with trauma as a result, are all too real to them. Like so many good documentaries that have come before, the film leaves the question up to the viewer to decide what they want to believe. Whether or not Dogman exists, the film provides a glimpse of a unique tradition that feels distinct to the state it comes from.
While Breedlove has made films on more well-known monsters like Bigfoot and Mothman, his look here at a more country creature is full of charm. Like a chicken-fried steak breakfast, The Dogman Triangle: Werewolves in the Lone Star State is absolutely delicious.